For Whom the Minivan Rolls: An Aaron Tucker Mystery - By Jeffrey Cohen Page 0,94
a lot, but it was enough to throw off my rhythm, and my composure, and I became rooted to the spot where I was standing. This time, Joel held the gun with both hands and aimed it straight at my chest, and he squinted.
Jeff Mahoney came barreling out of the front closet on slightly shaky legs. The barstool he’d been sitting on inside the closet fell over and Joel half-turned, reacting to the sound. But it was too late. Mahoney, a good six inches taller than Joel and fifty pounds heavier, had a bear hug around Joel’s arms, causing him to drop the gun even before Joel knew what was happening.
I, of course, bravely dove behind the couch until the whole thing blew over. Joel shouted, but was quickly subdued. Mahoney held him tight while I picked up the gun with a pencil.
“So,” I said to Mahoney, “finally out of the closet, eh?”
“Just tell me one thing, Joel,” Mahoney said. “That rental car— what company was it from?”
Epilogue
The Yankees gave back the lead in the ninth inning, but managed to eke out a win in the thirteenth. Ken Singleton, the former Oriole who now announces Yankee games, called it “a typical game between these two teams.”
Barry Dutton showed up with Westbrook, and promised to let me have all the information on the arrests of Martin and Rachel Barlow/Beckwirth, who would be charged with conspiracy to commit murder, among other juicy crimes. Barry scolded me for not warning him beforehand, and Westbrook said some things so stupid I chose not to remember them.
I called Abby as soon as the cops left. She and the kids were home in maybe twenty minutes. Abby gave Mahoney a longer hug than she gave me, which was probably his reward for saving my life, and my punishment for putting her through this. Mahoney, for his part, gave his statement to the police, hugged Abigail and Leah, shook Ethan’s hand, and left, after shaking his head at me and laughing. Sitting in a closet all night—some plan.
Joel Beckwirth would probably not be tried as a juvenile, Colette Jackson told me the next morning, but as an adult. This came as no surprise to me, since Abby had predicted and explained it the night before. But there was significant evidence Joel had no earthly idea what he did was wrong. He’d been screwed up on so many levels for so many years that it was hard to know exactly what had penetrated his defenses, and what had merely bounced off. He’d either be declared incompetent to stand trial, or be declared not guilty by reason of insanity. When he’d shot Madlyn, he’d been glad he could rid himself of someone he saw as a tormentor, but he couldn’t look at her while he did it. In all likelihood, he’d be hospitalized for a good few years.
Marie Aiello called, as promised, the next morning, and I told her the whole story. She was shocked, but sounded relieved that she could put the whole thing to rest. She said we should meet someday, so I could pay her the ten dollars I owed her, but neither of us tried to make a firm date of it.
I didn’t call Charlotte Rossi. There are some things even I don’t have the nerve to do.
Milt Ladowski called, too, but he wasn’t sure why. We talked for a few minutes, and he blustered and tried to get mad at me, but his heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t face any criminal charges, and wasn’t going to be disbarred. He did, however, resign as Borough Attorney. Luckily, he had something to fall back on.
I had something to fall back on, too, so I started going to the Y again the next day in an attempt to get rid of it. But that morning, the first day after Joel’s visit, I had work to do.
Once I had all the facts, I called the night city editor at the Newark Star-Ledger, the biggest newspaper in New Jersey, and offered her the story, although we’d never met. She asked me to fax a couple of clips, I did, and she bought the Beckwirth story. For a lot less than a thousand dollars, but hey, it was an “in” at the Star-Ledger. You could do worse. I used the money to replace the stereo speaker Joel shot out. My first murder investigation, and I had managed to break even.
The next morning I deleted from my computer files the