It was a dreary, drizzly day. Dark clouds hung over the city like the soft filter on a camera lens. The long drive to Hartford lay ahead, so Lowell wanted to stretch his legs a bit. As he walked uptown the glare of lights from the oncoming cars cast ominous shadows on the damp streets and buildings. New York’s avenues are caverns laid between mountainous structures, unending and relentless. To truly walk the streets of Manhattan one had to have a hiker-explorer mentality. And Lowell often felt like a traveler within his own city—trekking along its well-trodden paths, into distant villages with new and exciting discoveries.
He called Andy for a pickup in front of Eli’s Bakery as he turned down East Ninety-first Street and entered the store. Lowell loved the smell of fresh baking bread as it emanated from the bakery department sending shivers of childhood nostalgia through him. His mother often baked on rainy afternoons.
He walked into the café by the front door and ordered a banana croissant to go. He didn’t like their coffee, found it bitter. He’d get Starbucks later. Then he meandered through the store waiting for Andy’s text. There were exotic goodies from all over the world that piqued his interest. The owner of the store, Eli, had had a falling out with his family, the owners of Zabar’s, many years before and opened this place. The prices always shocked Lowell, and he wondered how they could charge eight bucks for the exact same licorice you can get in the supermarket for $2.99. Lowell also found the prices at Zabar’s to be outlandishly inflated. Probably a lot of over-expansive Jupiter energy in that family tree.
His phone beeped. He walked outside and the limo pulled up alongside him.
The driver’s window whirred down.
“Where to boss?”
“Andy, good morning. We’re going to West Hartford. Here’s the address.”
From the car, Lowell made his morning trades to help pass the time.
“Roger, I’m getting back into cotton. Venus is about to enter Libra, and that’s usually a bullish signal.”
“Okay, how many?”
Lowell looked at his notes and account information. “Buy me twenty, market-on-open, and put a stop in at 63.20. Then put a buy for twenty more at 65.00 with the same stop out, good-till-cancelled.”
“I’ve been looking at cotton too. I think I’ll follow your lead. I’ll call you with your fills.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Lowell sat back and in his mind replayed the conversation with Mort from last night.
“You were right,” said Mort. “She’s working as a private nurse under a different name.”
“So where is she?”
“West Hartford, like you thought. She’s working at a residence taking care of an elderly man. And she’s living in an apartment complex just outside the city limits. Here’s the address.”
“How did you find her?”
“Once you gave me the general vicinity I hacked into the local hospitals in the area, there’s only a few, and looked for patients that needed home care. Based on her age and what little we know about her I was able to narrow it down. A few discreet phone calls, and some luck, and bingo. The name she’s using turns out to be deceased. I figured, that’s our gal.”
The rain was making Lowell depressed, so he turned a few knobs. The windows darkened for a moment and then lit up with a sunny, beautiful scene from the California coast. The windows were fitted with plasma screens that were transparent when turned off, but when they were activated they projected a very real filmed scene and even took on the same physical characteristics. Now they were warm to the touch, reflecting the California climate. Lowell could swear he felt the sun’s rays streaming through the window. This was an invention his client and friend Walter Delaney had created. Until the bugs were worked out and the patents secured, Lowell was one of the few people operating the mechanism. It had proven quite a useful trick on several cases.
He rode in silence staring out the window at the faux-ocean view, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. New York City was the only home he knew, but sometimes change was freeing. Maybe it was time to consider an adjustment.
About ninety minutes later Andy buzzed him. “We’re almost there.”
Lowell turned off the window screens and looked back out at the overcast suburban landscape.
They got off the highway and Andy followed the GPS instructions until they were in front of an unexceptional square, brick apartment building probably built in the sixties.
Lowell got out of the car and took a deep breath. The suburbs smelled clean and fresh. He didn’t usually notice how thick and invasive the city air was until he got away from it.
He took the elevator to the thirteenth floor, got out, read the room numbers, and turned left. At room number 1345 he knocked. There was no response. He knocked again.
The door opened. “Yes, may I help you?”A short, very thin, middle-aged woman with graying brown hair peeked from behind the door.
“Are you Gloria Williamson?”
She stared at him. “No. There’s nobody here by that name.” She began to close the door.
“If I could find you, don’t you think others can?”
She stopped. “He sent you, didn’t he?”
Lowell nodded briefly.
The woman put her hand to her brow. “I was afraid of this.”
Lowell shook his head. “I assure you, I have no intention of revealing your whereabouts unless you wish it.”
She looked at him for a moment then waved him in. It was a modest apartment, sparsely furnished with mismatched odds and ends. The couch was a lime green. A well-worn gray armchair stood across the room. The few tables bore lamps of different shapes and sizes.
“Are you a private detective?”
He handed her a card.
“Starlight Detective Agency? David Lowell? I know that name from somewhere.” She looked more closely at him. “Oh yes, I saw you on TV recently. You’re that astrologer who solved the murder of those rock stars, aren’t you? Well Mr. Lowell, now that you’ve found me, what do you plan to do about it?”
“I don’t know. That’s up to you.”
She sighed. “Please sit down.”
He sat in the armchair.
She sat on the couch, retrieving a cup of tea from a low table. “Would you like something? Tea or water?”
“No thank you.”
She was a nervous woman, her voice wavering as she spoke. “So he sent you to find me. After all these years I was hoping he’d given up.”
Lowell remained silent.
“Do you know him well?”
“I only met him once, when he hired me to find you.”
She nodded, and then gazed out the window trying to decide what to say next. She turned back toward Lowell. “He’s a monster. You can’t possibly know what he’s like.”
Lowell nodded. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
She got up and began to pace. “I don’t know. Why should I trust you?”
“There’s no reason you should. Just tell me what you feel comfortable with.”
She sat back down and looked at him carefully. “I may regret this, but my instincts tell me I should.” She wrung her hands and sighed. “I don’t know where to start.”
“How about at the beginning?”
“Well, I suppose so.” She kept wringing her hands as she spoke, trying in vain to wash away some unseen blemish. “At first I guess we had a normal marriage. There were a few disagreements, and I suppose the usual struggles as we got to know each other. He was fairly easygoing and generous when we were dating. But then soon after we were married he started to change.”
“How so?”
“It was subtle at first. Some mood swings, an occasional argument that seemed irrational to me. But I was young and didn’t understand much about relationships. As the months went by, he became more abusive. He has a terrible temper, which at first he hid from me. It started to come out more and more. He would scream at me, sometimes in public. But then it escalated. He…” she stopped to catch her breath. “He would hit me, sometimes very hard.”
“What did you do?”
“I tried to talk to him, begged him to seek help. But he just said it was a bad mood and he’d get over it.”
“Did he continue to hit you?”
She nodded. “Many times. Even when I was pregnant. Once he threatened to push me down the stairs. I became afraid for myself and my unborn children. I needed to know who this man was that I had married. Everyone thought he was a god. People came from all over for his advice and skills as a surgeon. But I had to live with another side of his personality. I didn’t know what to do. I had very few friends and no money of my own. I felt trapped. I needed to learn more about the father of my children.
“One night Edgar and I went to a charity ball where I met my husband’s accountant and his wife, Nancy. She and I hit it off right away and soon became close friends. Several weeks later over lunch I took a chance and confined in her about my troubles. Nancy was very sympathetic. She’d been married before to an abusive man and understood what I was going through. That night when her husband was asleep she opened Edgar’s file on her husband’s computer and emailed it to me. I was shocked. He was immensely wealthy, something he’d kept from me. I knew we weren’t poor, but I had no idea how much money he had. He’d spent years researching genetic diseases and by the time we got married was losing interest in practicing medicine. He was only interested in collecting and patenting rare genes. I later found out that he had been accused of using his wealth to buy, steal, and bully the rights to genetic material from those unfortunate enough to be in possession of a blood type or genetic code that he needed for his work.”
Gloria blew out a deep breath that held years of pressure and sadness.
“As the months went by and my due date came closer, he became less violent, as if the children were the important thing. But I knew his anger was bubbling under the surface. I began to realize that I couldn’t let him near my children. I didn’t know if he was using drugs or what the problem was.”
They were quiet for a few moments as Lowell digested the information. Finally he said: “I understand. Tell me more.”
She sat silently for a few moments staring past Lowell, her eyes unfocused, looking at a view from her past only she could see.
“After my sons were born he became worse than ever. It was as if my giving birth to his offspring was all he’d been interested in and he had no more use for me. There were some complications from the births and I was forced to remain in the hospital for several weeks. At least the children stayed with me, at first. Edgar came into my room one night, his face flush with anger, his breath smelling from alcohol. He told me that it was time to wean the boys from me. That’s the term he used, like they were a litter of animals. That’s when I knew I had to get away from him.”
She stood up and began pacing again, her agitation quite pronounced.
“Being the doctor’s wife does come with some privileges in the hospital. I arranged for an early morning discharge the following day, convincing the nurses that my husband had just forgotten to tell them. Nancy agreed to come by and pick me up with a suitcase of clothing for me and the kids. We were going to start a new life.”
Gloria Williamson stopped, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked directly at Lowell. “It was the worst day of my life. The day I lost my son. I still have nightmares.”
“Take your time. I know this is painful. But I need to know what happened.”
“It was very early. The sun wasn’t up yet. It was quiet outside the hospital. Nancy pushed me out in a wheelchair. I was still very weak, and the hospital’s regulations demanded it. She had parked just down the street and was holding both babies, as I eased myself into the car.
“Just then, another car squealed to the curb and a very large man I’d seen around the hospital ran to us and grabbed one of the babies. He tried to get the other but my friend twisted away and started to scream bloody murder. I tried to scream too, but the shock of what was happening was too much for me and I couldn’t utter a sound. I saw one of my babies…” She closed her eyes again, and kept them closed. “He took off with my child…”
“You don’t have to say more. I understand your loss.” Lowell had a catch in his throat. “I understand your loss,” he repeated, more softly.
She sat back on the couch, spent. “I’ve been running ever since, forced to adopt aliases and always on my guard. He has unlimited resources, I have few. I couldn’t let him come and take my other son. And I knew he wouldn’t be happy with just one.”
They both sat quietly for a moment. Lowell broke the silence. “How did you survive?”
“For years I roamed around the country taking any job I could find. We lived in California for a while, in terrible places. I was afraid to work as a nurse, figuring he’d find me that way. But after so many years, the only job I could find that paid decently was back here, so I finally took a chance. I had to use my deceased friend’s identity. And now he’s found me anyway.”
She sat back on the couch and was silent for a while, gazing into space. “How is my other son?”
Lowell shook his head. “That’s why I’m here. He’s very ill and needs a kidney transplant. He has a very rare blood type from your husband’s side.”
She nodded. “Oh my God, no!”
Lowell gave her time to process this awful news.
She began to speak again, very slowly, her voice cracking. “I found out about Kevin’s blood type when he was about three. I had to take him to a clinic for a horrible cough and they discovered it. They wanted me to keep a supply of his blood just in case something happened.”
“Did you?”
“No. I couldn’t afford it. I haven’t had health insurance since I left him. Mr. Lowell, do you know how expensive it is? It would cost me more than my rent to cover Kevin and me. Some states have programs for poor people, but if I signed up for it he would have been able to find me.”
“Your husband hired me to find his son’s twin in the hope of convincing you to allow the operation.”
“My poor boy, my poor, poor boy.” She got up, walked over to the kitchen area, and put her tea cup in the sink. Then she poured herself a glass of water. “You sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No, thank you.”
She remained standing. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t let my son die, but I just don’t trust that man. Are you sure this isn’t just a ruse for him to get Kevin away from me?”
“For the past year Edward has been in and out of a private hospital your husband owns in New Jersey. According to your husband he seems to be fading fast. Also, my astrological interpretation of his chart shows that he is quite susceptible to kidney disease.”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Mrs. Williamson, Why don’t you take a little time and think about it?”
She sipped the water. “Are you going to tell him that you found me?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
“But he hired you.”
Lowell smiled humorlessly. “That matters less than you think.”
“My other son needs me. I can’t just turn my back on him.”
“Where is your son, if I may ask?”
“He’s out with some friends. Kevin’s a very sociable young man.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“I suppose I’ll have to see Edgar. Would you arrange it? And can we do it somewhere safe? I’m very afraid of him.”
“I’ll arrange a meeting at my office in Manhattan. Would that be okay?”
She nodded.
He stood up and shook her hand. “You have my number on my card. Why don’t you call me when you’re ready to meet?”
“You’re very kind. I’ll call you in a day or so.”
Andy drove him back to the city. Lowell didn’t turn on his visual playground, but sat looking out at the gray world.