a closer look. “A month ago, I was at the dentist and Mr. Charm was bitching to the receptionist how his new set of choppers couldn’t chew oatmeal no less a sandwich.”
Murphy packed his examination bag. “This is all very interesting. But…”
“Make sure you check his gut. I’ll bet a case of beer you won’t find any shredded lettuce,” Joe said.
“I’ll let you know,” Murphy said, rolling his eyes. “It’s been a real pleasure.”
Fredericks watched Murphy recede down the hall. “There’s no evidence of forced entry, the drawers and closets haven’t been tossed. According to Murphy, the guy was taking medication to keep his heart ticking. Maybe he was sitting on the other side of the table, didn’t feel well, got up and tried to walk it off. Who knows?”
“And who cares?” Joe added. “I don’t give a shit, but let me ask you one question, Detective Lieutenant.”
Fredericks motioned for Joe to continue.
“He goes for a leisurely stroll around the table and he doesn’t use the alert. He feared dying and being found like he was.” Joe laughed as he pat Fredericks on the shoulder. “Like I said, I don’t give a shit. It’s your case, but for old times, humor me and check the wax paper for prints.” His eyes widened as he flipped the book over. The Five Books of Moses was embossed in silver letters.
Fredericks removed his gloves. “I’ll think about it.”
Joe picked up the book, opening the cover. “The Old Testament.” He shook his head. “Genesis. In a million years, I’d never guess he’d be reading the Jewish bible.” He checked his watch. It was 1:15. “I gotta get going. I got a shrink appointment in hour.” He tapped the table twice with his club and walked down the hall into the sunshine.
Fielder was gone. Joe Stoval, clutching his rake, stood at the bottom of the driveway. “You got your wish, Preston is fucking dead,” Joe said.
“I shouldn’t have said it. Barbara would’ve kicked me in the shin.”
Joe put his arm around Stoval’s neck. “If I had a ten dollar bill for every time I wished the bastard dead…it would’ve paid for a year of college.”
Stovall burst out laughing. “Maybe the ‘fucking Jew’ Rothstein killed him. He rambled on about him enough.”
Joe lit another Marlboro. “I was hoping to meet the ghost Rothstein.” He blew a stream of smoke to the sky. “I wonder if there’s going to be a service. Preston had no relatives.”
Stoval poked at a rock with his rake. “I hope there is one. I can’t wait to hear Reverend Miller’s eulogy for the man who claimed he changed the world and history.”
“Changed the world, how?” Joe asked.
Ed shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me. Maybe it was the booze talking.”
Chapter 2
WESTFIELD, NJ AUGUST 2000
JOE CHECKED THE SIDE MIRROR, stuck his hand through the window and gave the guy in the BMW on his bumper the middle finger. “Keep blowing your horn, moron.” There wasn’t any way to pull around the old lady pushing a shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot of Wholesome Organics. Going organic for Joe was equivalent to flushing money down the toilet. Besides, the T-bone steak he planned to toss on the grill was on sale; it would be a change from frozen dinners, fast food and pizza he was surviving on since his wife left.
Driving Elaine’s ‘98 Volvo wagon was an adventure. He swore to the service manager at the dealership that turning the radio on caused the Swedish delight to misfire. Using the air-conditioner caused it to stall. Joe cursed the woman who took his five-year-old Explorer to Arizona as he turned the key for the umpteenth time. The engine coughed to life. He revved the oil-belching beast for another ten seconds for the prick in the BMW. Dr. Headcase would’ve been pleased. The behavior modification plan for his anger management issues paid its first dividend.
Fredericks’ Crown Victoria was back in the Swedge driveway. Joe stopped ten feet past the evergreens to get an angle to see the front door. A van belonging to Callahan Restoration, Inc. was parked with its sliding door on the passenger side facing the entrance. Ryan Callahan was a cousin of Christian Murphy. His business was removing the stench of death. Someone wasn’t wasting time. Joe wondered how long it would be until the Tudor was on the market.
Joe pulled the Volvo into the garage and carried the shopping bag through the door to the laundry room. Roxy pointed her nose