A Darker Shade of Blood Read online




  A DARKER SHADE OF BLOOD

  by

  Lawrence J. Epstein

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  A Darker Shade of Blood (The Danny Ryle Mysteries, #2)

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Copyright © 2019 by Lawrence J. Epstein. All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, stored in retrieval systems, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recorded or otherwise without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Please sign up for Lawrence J. Epstein’s mailing list to be among the first to know when his next book will be published: http://www.lawrencejepstein.com/list.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Suffolk County, New York

  November 1982

  The little girl was eating a dish of chocolate ice cream and looked shockingly normal for someone who had been kidnapped. She was seven and ate with admirable neatness. None of the ice cream had gotten on her clothes or in her hair.

  Her father, the man who had taken her from the school and never brought her home, was eating a cheeseburger and fries. He was far less neat. He looked like every bully I had ever met, with a swagger and confidence that he would never be wrong.

  After I had heard him order a vanilla shake, I made my way back into the kitchen.

  The owner looked up at me.

  “This is private property, buddy.”

  I didn’t speak but took out my identification card listing me as on the staff of the local Congressman. I didn’t add that he’d be out of office in early January.

  “Yeah,” the owner said, “So what?”

  “So there have been some complaints about the diner. Before we make a big deal about this, the Congressman asked me to check. Nobody wants to force a business to close.”

  “How much you want?”

  “That’s the wrong question, buddy. I’m here to look, not get rich. What do you have to make?”

  “Grilled cheese for a lady. Vanilla milk shake for a big guy out there.”

  I nodded. “Let me see you make the milk shake.”

  He wasn’t happy, but he had to make the milk shake anyway, so he started.

  After he was finished, I asked him to let me look at the shake.

  He handed it to me.

  That’s when I put a water pill into the drink. I had gotten the hydrochlorothiazide from a friend who had come very close to finishing pharmacy school. The pill was a normal diuretic used when blood pressure needed extra correction. In theory, a person took the pill and then urinated out enough salt and water to lower the pressure.

  “You did a good job,” I said to the owner. “I don’t think I need to come back.”

  I went outside to see my partners.

  Ari Eilat had been hired by my father to protect me. He had eventually joined me in an unusual group meant to help those who needed it. Ari had been in counter-terrorism in Israel. He was big with curly hair, but everybody always looked first at his eyes. They made you want to run for your life.

  Betsy Revere had once been a cop. I was afraid to challenge her to an arm wrestling match. You couldn’t see her muscles, but you knew they were there. Her black-framed glasses almost hid the light blue eyes. The eyes betrayed the fact that she had stored a lot of hurt.

  “What’s going on, Danny?” Ari asked.

  “I just put the pill in his drink. We all go in and wait. You know what to do.”

  And so we went inside. I checked my watch. The little girl’s mother would be waiting by the phone.

  It took longer than I thought. I feared the man would have abnormal kidney control. Finally, though, he got up, whispered what looked like some threat to the girl, and headed to the bathroom.

  The three of us went into action.

  I called the mother.

  “We’re ready,” I said.

  “Oh, Mr. Ryle, thank you so much. I’m sitting here shaking.”

  “Call me Danny, Mrs. Arnold.”

  A sniffle.

  “I told you...Danny. I won’t be able to pay much. I...”

  “There’s no charge to save a kidnapped child, Mrs. Arnold. We’re happy to do it.”

  “I know you told me that, but I didn’t believe you. When I asked about you they told me you were a fixer. I was confused. I didn’t know what that was. Now I know.”

  I looked over the room as I talked. Ari went to the bathroom door to make sure the father didn’t return too soon. Betsy went over to the little girl. Betsy would tell her that her mother was on the phone and wanted to talk to her. The girl became excited and went with Betsy over to the wall with the phone.

  “Amy is on her way over, Mrs. Arnold. Remember to tell her what I said.”

  “I will.”

  Then a rushed voice. “How can I ever repay you?”

  “Be kind to Amy. She needs it.”

  Then I handed the phone over. The talk went as I had planned. The mother said she had to talk quickly but that Amy should go with the woman who would take her home.

  Betsy led Amy out of the diner. The car was parked in the lot in a way that allowed a quick exit.

  I sat down next to where the husband had been seated.

  The father came out. He had a look of panic on his face. I stood up to talk to him.

  I said, “The girl is on her way back to her mother.”

  The father pushed me. Hard. I fell over a table.

  Ari had been behind the man. He put a headlock on the guy and made him understand what it would be like to be choked to death.

  The owner started coming over, but I stopped him.

  “Everyone’s all right. We’ll be sitting peacefully for a few minutes and then we’ll be leaving.”

  “Good,�
� the owner said.

  Ari put his thumb somewhere on the guy’s neck, and the father begged him to stop.

  I was in front of the father.

  “You want to sit?”

  The father looked at Ari and knew I wasn’t making a request.

  We all sat down. The man pushed himself in and Ari sat next to him. I sat across from them.

  “She’s my daughter.”

  “That’s not what the court said.”

  “They always go with the mother. It’s not fair.”

  “I can’t imagine the judge didn’t see the goodness in your heart.”

  “She’s mine.” He paused for a few seconds. “How did you find me?”

  “Your ex-wife didn’t want you arrested, so she never called the cops. She told everyone you had taken her to live with you in Florida. She waited months before she called a friend who knew me. Although it was far too late to do a good search, we went to the places your daughter might go. The park. The stores. We asked at school. We asked her friends. We went to your apartment and found out you had moved.”

  “I thought she had called the cops. I thought I had been pretty smart. We didn’t go out for a month. I saw a lot of terrible television that Amy liked.”

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  “So where did I make a mistake?”

  “Your daughter likes dolls. When I went through her room I saw a magazine about dolls.”

  He slammed his hand down on the table. “The subscription. I thought of that, but I figured there were tens of thousands of subscriptions.”

  “Not new ones. Not in Suffolk County.”

  “What if I had moved to Schenectady? My brother lives there.”

  “You wouldn’t do that unless you were forced to move. Your whole life was spent here. It was easy. There was this new subscription sent to Lake Grove to an apartment complex. You made it too easy.”

  His body grew tense. He held the edge of the table with both his hands. Ari put a hand on his arm, and the father eased his grip of the table.

  “It’s not right to take a child away from her father.”

  I leaned forward toward him.

  “Look, pal. You kidnapped a kid. You have any idea how lucky you are you’re not sharing a cell with a killer who likes house-breaking new prisoners? I’m only going to say this once. You go near your ex-wife or the child, you won’t have to worry about the law. My advice is to move out of the County. Maybe a warm southern state. Winter is coming. Make your escape. You see us again, it will be the sorriest day of your life.”

  “You said yourself I grew up here. It’s hard to leave.”

  “You could be leaving in a wheelchair because both your knees are broken. I said you’d leave when you had to, and now you have to.”

  He started to fidget.

  “I want to say good-bye to Amy.”

  “Absolutely not. You’ve said your good-byes. We’ll give you three hours to leave. We’ll be watching Amy and her mother. Is there anything I’ve said that you don’t understand?”

  He looked down and shook his head.

  “We’re going now. Make sure we never see you again.”

  Ari and I slid off the seats and walked outside.

  “I don’t trust him,” Ari said.

  “He owns the Chevy.” I pointed. “Why don’t we follow him for a while?”

  He drove to his apartment and packed two suitcases.

  Then he headed for La Guardia airport.

  We waited until the plane took off.

  I checked to see where he had bought a ticket for. It was the first flight available to a southern state. He was on his way to Atlanta.

  I felt sorry for the city.

  Ari and I drove back to my house.

  My boss, Congressman-elect Lucey, was sitting on the stoop. He looked as though he had lost a bet with the Devil, and it was time to pay up.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I was still technically working for Congressman James Foster Miles, but Ken Lucey had defeated him in the election held on November 2nd. Lucey was very busy planning and celebrating so I was surprised to see him. He would be sworn into office in early January. But here he was, several weeks after the election. I tried to figure out what was wrong. Had Congressman Miles filed a lawsuit? Did Lucey have trouble with the Party? Trigger O’Dell, the County Chairman of the Party, was a tough man to deal with.

  Even I was unsure of my place in the new Congressman’s life. I had worked out an interesting relationship with Lucey. His mother, of all people, had financed a group to help people who needed it. Ari, Betsy, and I made up that group. Bringing Amy home had been our first effort together. But I also worked as a political fixer for Lucey in circumstances I agreed to accept.

  Lucey remained quiet. I invited him inside and we sat around a table near the kitchen. Ari made us some coffee. The Congressman-elect was slumped, barely able to say hello.

  The coffee came and we sat staring at it, as though good advice was hidden in its dark, swirling water.

  We waited until Lucey finally started to sip from the cup. I was sure that he knew he was among friends, people he could speak with. That didn’t seem to help.

  It took several minutes before the words found their way out of his mouth.

  He said, “It’s about Marilyn Park.” Then he went back to his silence.

  During the election I had discovered a secret about Lucey. He had been turned down by at least one adoption agency so he illegally paid Marilyn Park to give him her baby. Lucey paid over a lot of money. The baby was born in his home. He had some connections and so the baby got a birth certificate and not too much was said. There was no formal adoption. The baby wasn’t legally his. I had refused to make the information public. If I had, Lucey would have lost the election.

  Betsy brought over some chocolate cake, and Lucey devoured it. I was convinced that someday it will be discovered that chocolate is a powerful medicine because Lucey’s face regained its color right after he finished the cake.

  The rest of us were quiet out of respect.

  Lucey had regained some of his authority.

  He spoke up.

  “I’m being blackmailed.”

  “How can we help?” I asked. That was always my reflexive response. It was more useful than just saying I was sorry.

  There was more silence.

  “Marilyn Park was the cause of great happiness in my life, and now she is the cause of great pain.”

  He stared at me.

  “Can you find her?”

  “She’s working as a waitress at a diner in Centereach.”

  He nodded. “I have already called a lawyer. I think I will be able to adopt the baby and keep all of this private. And now this. You need to stop her, Danny.”

  “Is she the blackmailer or did she hire someone?”

  “I don’t know. She’s been the only person who has contacted me. She waited like a week after I was elected and called me saying she was going to tell Newsday the whole story if I don’t pay her fifty thousand dollars. Danny, she said she would tell the paper that I was the father of the baby. Which is not true. It makes me sound unfaithful to my wife. My career will be over before it starts.”

  His face lost all its color.

  “Sir, I don’t have to tell you the facts. You know all this. You pay, and she’ll come back for more. You’re in a difficult legal position. You can’t pay a blackmailer even if you wanted to do so. You’re supposed to call the police.”

  “Oh, sure. And five minutes after I do, this will become a national story. They’ll take my baby away from me. Have you ever seen the baby, Danny?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Absolutely gorgeous. I say that as a completely unbiased observer. My wife and I can’t lose the baby. You think I’m exaggerating but I’m not. Losing that baby would kill my wife.” He looked down.

  Translation: no cops are going to be involved.

  He looked down. “Listen, Danny, because this is p
rivate. My wife and I are having some problems. I’m hoping that a baby will keep us together, give us a common task. I have a lot of hopes for this baby. I look at the baby and see hope for the family.”

  He took out his wallet and showed me a picture of the baby.

  I was confused.

  “Sir, I was under the impression that Miss Park was Korean. I mean the name and all.”

  “She’s white. I thought she was never married. I was wrong. She was married for a few weeks to a guy from South Korea. The baby isn’t his. She wasn’t sure about the baby’s father. She likes the name Park. Her family name is long and hard to spell. She always hated it. So she kept on being Marilyn Park.”

  “I can talk to her, sir. But I can’t force her to remain silent.”

  “What do I do, Danny?”

  “Let me speak to her before I give you a suggestion. What kind of person is she?”

  “She had a very difficult time growing up. Alcohol. A father who beat the mother. Marilyn never had a chance. All too typical a story. She showed me pictures. A sweet child, a lost teenager. She went to school as rarely as she could. A lot of beer. A lot of drugs. As I say, you look at her family, you can see her story. I figured if my family brought up the baby, she could become what Marilyn never had a chance to be. I could see Marilyn’s life and what was wrong about it. But I didn’t see this, Danny. Blackmail? I think she’s just desperate. At least I want to think that. I want to think she can be reasoned with. Maybe a small amount of money and moving expenses.”

  “I have an idea,” Ari said.

  Lucey turned to him. “What’s that?”

  “Offer to pay her the fifty thousand. But in return you need photographic and other materials that you can use to blackmail her in case she comes back for more money. You tell her that, and maybe she won’t go back for more.”

  Lucey pivoted back toward me.

  “It’s an interesting idea, Danny.”

  “For someone else, sir. Not for an incoming Congressman. You’re quadrupling the value of her story if you engage in blackmail yourself. And that’s how it will be interpreted. You have to remain completely clean.”

  “You have to fix it, Danny.”

  “Let me start by speaking with her.” I paused. “Listen, sir, I’m going to get as much information as I can before coming back to you. You try to remember all you can.”