Murder at Sunset

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

ATLANTA, GEORGIA, LATE AFTERNOON THE FIRST WEEK OF FEBRUARY, 2000

 

     “Everything’s in place then?”  Mary Sloakum asked the caller, seated behind a large mahogany desk in her spacious, top-floor office.

     “Yes, the document and the insurance policies are signed,” the female voice answered.

     “Good work.”  Mary hung up without any formal “good-bye.”  Her eyes had been fixed on the floor to ceiling glass wall that faced west.  She rose casually and went to the window.  There were thin clouds coloring in the waning sunlight as lights began to come on from below.  The view was mesmerizing.

     An image of her lithe figure reflecting in the glass caught her attention, causing her to smile.  She was right where she should be, at the top of her corporation and at the top of the city.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

BELHAVEN, MISSISSIPPI, JUST PAST MIDNIGHT, THE SECOND WEEK OF FEBRUARY

 

     "Can you get that, hon?"  Martha Jonovitch was engrossed in trying to catch up on her paper work.  "It's Mrs. Spencer in number ten.”  Still squinting at the call light, she continued:  “She just buzzed once.  Probably just needs help getting to the bathroom."  At this time of night most patients at Sunset Home were asleep, giving the nursing staff time to catch up on paper work.

     "Sure."  Sarah Blitzstein, chewing away at her gum while thumbing through patient orders at the desk next to Martha, got up, still holding a page she was reading, and casually walked around Martha to reset the call light.

     Just as she pushed the reset button she noticed Mary Spencer's medication drawer open with a paper cup in it containing two pills.  She picked them up looking at the attached note.  "Wasn't Mrs. Spencer supposed to get these when we made the early rounds?"  She held them out for Martha to see.

     Martha's head jerked around, her face blushing.  "Oh, damn!  Yes, she was.  I meant to when we got back from Mrs. Higdon’s call."  She looked at her watch.  "Does it say what the medication is?"

     "No."

     "Well, I'm pretty sure she's not taking anything dangerous and four hours isn't that far off schedule, why don't you go ahead and give'm to her, and I'll mark down on her records that they were delayed by an emergency."

     "OK."  As Sarah was about to exit the nurses station alcove, she heard a thump that sounded like the entry door closing at the end of the hall.  It caught her attention because it was midnight and the back doors were supposed to be locked. However, looking around she didn’t notice anyone or anything unusual, so she shrugged it off and continued on casually to Mary's room.

     "Do you need some help, hon?"  Sarah asked as she opened the door and felt for the light switch.  Shock gripped her when the lights came on over the bed highlighting the pillow over Mary's face.

     She turned to call down the hall.  Then realizing that she might alarm other patients, she went and found the call button under Mary's hand and started pressing it repeatedly.

 

 

     Martha's head jerked around when the call buzzer started its insistent tattoo. "What tha…?"  Seeing that it was Mary's room, she jumped up and started running down the hall.  Bursting into the room, she saw Sarah examining Mary's left hand.

     Sarah looked up and then backed away so Martha could get a clear view of the pillow and exclaimed: "She's dead."

     "Wha'd'ya'mean?"  Hearing this and seeing the pillow, Martha felt a cold cloud of fear wash over her.  “This can’t be happening again,” she whispered.  Her gut tightened as the consequences that followed Gertrude Waller’s death a little over a year ago flashed through her mind.

     Considering her death suspicious, she had dutifully called the police, only to find out that her promotion to supervisor, which was thought to be a sure thing, suddenly disappeared.  Now, she had to work graveyard for the pay differential.

     Sarah held up the hypodermic needle cap she had picked up from the floor.  "Look at this."  Martha paled. "Put that down where you found it and don't touch anything else."

     Sarah jumped at Martha's abruptness, placing the cap back on the floor. "You want me to call the police?"  It was obvious to her that this was murder.

     Martha panicked.  She had to delay so she could think.  "Have you taken her pulse or checked her pupils?"

     Sarah looked disgustedly at Martha.  "Of course I've checked her pulse and I don't need to see her pupils to tell that she's dead.  Do you want me to call the police or not?"

     The extreme stress was causing Martha’s thoughts to jump around wildly.  "No, I'll handle it.  You stay here and don't let anyone come into the room, and for God's sake don't touch anything."  She had to get away from the scene and particularly Sarah so she could think more clearly.

     Sarah shrugged her shoulders and replied, "OK," knowing that no one was going to want in at this time of night.

     Aware that she had only bought herself a precious few minutes, Martha exited in a nervous rush.  I don't care what the situation is.  I'm not going to risk my job for anyone. But, her conscience wouldn’t allow her to just do nothing.  Then it hit her: I'm going to have to call Henderson Funeral Home anyhow, so I'll just let Jim Henderson handle it.  After all he is the county coroner.

     She dialed the number for Henderson Funeral Home.  An unctuous young male voice answered: "Henderson's Funeral Home.  How may we serve you?"

     "Is Jim Henderson there?  This is Martha Jonovitch at Sunset home."

     "Yes, Mrs. Jonovitch, Mr. Henderson is on duty tonight, but he is asleep at the moment.  Is there something I can help you with?" 

     "No, I'm sorry young man, but you won't do this time.  I need to speak directly to Jim.  It's important."

     In a few moments Jim Henderson answered the phone with a sleepy: "Hello."

     "Jim, this is Martha Jonovitch down at Sunset.  I found Mary Spencer dead a few minutes ago, and I need you to come down here and take care of her body."  She lowered her voice, "Don't you send one of your employees, I need you to come yourself."  She paused and then whispered: "It looks very suspicious."  She couldn't bring herself to say the word: 'murder'.

     "Why don't you just call the police, then?"  The cobwebs of sleep still clouded his mind.

     "You know why."  She growled.

     Jim thought back through the fog in his mind.  "Oh, Yeah."  There was a short pause while he checked the desk and the time.  "Look, just keep calm.  I'll be there in fifteen or twenty minutes.  OK?"

     "Yeah, that's fine.  Thanks, Jim."

     "Whoa, wait a minute.  What room?"

     "Room 10W."

     "10W.  Isn't that where we picked up Mrs. Waller last year?"

     "Next door."

 

 

 

     At about 3:00 AM, Chief of Police Sam Goss, looking like a two hundred pound unmade bed, entered Mary Spencer’s room.  A dark fringe of tousled hair encircled his balding head above the dark stubble highlighting his square jaw.  Uncharacteristically, his khaki uniform shirt was rumpled, unbuttoned at the neck and without the usual tie.

     "Jesus, Sam.  You OK?  You look terrible."

     Sam smirked at Jim through his bleary eyes.  "At 3:00 o'clock on Sunday morning this is what you get."  Jim shook his head and Sam continued, "so what did you get me out of bed at this ungodly hour for?"

     Jim reached down and picked up the pillow from Mary's face.  "It's Mary Spencer, Sam, and I think it's clear that she's been suffocated.  Plus there is this syringe cap."

     Sam went to the side of the bed to take a closer look, and Jim laid the pillow down and picked up her left hand.  "Also, it looks as though something has been ripped off her ring finger.  Martha says that she was wearing a wedding set with a large diamond in it."

     Sam observed the ring finger, "She was wearing a diamond ring in here?"

     "That's what Martha says."

     Sam shook his head.  "Just when you think you’ve seen it all."  His expression turned serious.  "We’d better call in the state crime scene people and let them do their thing.  With robbery our only motive, we’re going to need all the evidence we can get to come up with a suspect."

 

 

     Sam was interviewing Sarah Blitzstein when he heard a familiar voice:  "What's going on?  Everyone's talking about a mur..." Maggie Goss, Sam's aunt, was stopped short when she saw her nephew, as she barged into the small crowd at the nurse's station.  She was dressed in her bathrobe her hair still wrapped up for bed, making her slim frame seem taller than its five-foot-six-inches.  Even without makeup, her thin-featured face was attractive.

     "Aunt Maggie?"

     "Nephew?   What are you doing here?"

     Sam chuckled as he came over to her.  "I'm afraid I'm here on business."

     "If you're here at this time on Sunday morning, it must be serious business."

     Gently grasping her arm, he spoke softly:  "It's Mary Spencer."

     Realizing what this must mean, she reacted with alarm.  " What's happened to Mary?"

     Sam wrapped his arms around her, his favorite aunt.  He had always admired her stubborn independence.  He looked her in the eye and lowered his voice.  "She was murdered."

     She pulled away from him in shock.  "What!  Who could possibly want to harm her?"

     "I don't know."  He gave her a squeeze.  "Look, the Coroner --you know, Jim Henderson-- has got the State crime-scene investigators down there now.  There isn't anything you can do until they're done, so why don't you go back and get some rest.  I'll call on you later today, probably this afternoon."

     Maggie looked away from Sam toward Martha.  "May I get you some coffee, Martha?  You look pretty jangled."  She had come to know Martha before Martha moved to the night shift.

     Martha smiled.  "Yes, Miss Goss, I'd love some."

     "And, you, Miss."  She was looking at Sarah.  "What is your name, dear?

     "Sarah Blitzstein."

     "Is it Miss or Mrs.?"

     "Miss."  Sarah was mesmerized.

     "May I get you some coffee?"

     "Uh.  I don't drink coffee...  But...uh… I'll take tea.  If they have it, I mean."

     "Tea it will be.  And you, Nephew, what would you like?"

     Sam shook his head slightly.  "Coffee'll be fine."  With a little smirk Maggie walked away as briskly as she had entered.

     Martha watched the scene with interest, sensing that something subtle was going on between Maggie and Sam.  "Why are you smiling?"  She was staring at Sam.

     "You don't know what was going on, do you?"

     Martha moved her head slowly back and forth.  "I guess not."

     "I had just told her that there was nothing she could do, and she was showing me that there was."

     Martha smiled knowingly.  "Oh."

     "That is one stubborn woman."  Sam quipped.

     Martha looked at him with big eyes.  "Oh?  I'd say it runs in the family."