Page 4 of The Furies

A space had cleared around Raum. None of the other customers wanted to be caught up in whatever was unfolding, and no one who knew him was willing to stand alongside him. Men like Raum don’t have friends, only associates, and the latter won’t take a side unless there’s something in it for them—something, that is, other than a beating.

But Raum, being an asshole, didn’t know when to keep quiet, or didn’t feel the obligation now that he thought the Fulcis were under some semblance of control. He was already shooting his mouth off, and I saw that he’d bought himself some new teeth. They were big and white, and made him look like an advertisement for Chiclets. If he’d known how tenuous was my hold on Paulie Fulci, he’d have been a lot less loquacious. For an instant I was tempted to let Paulie run free, but I didn’t want to be responsible for collateral damage to a bartender.

“He’s not worth a night in a cell,” I told the Fulcis.

“Come on, then,” said Raum, “come on,” making come-hither gestures with his hands. “You fat fucks,” he added, for good measure.

“No, he is worth it,” said Tony.

I looked at Raum in his dark, shiny suit, with his backcombed hair and his installment-plan teeth, and thought that Tony might be right, but common sense prevailed.

“Raum,” I said, “you need to stop talking. Now.”

And miracle of miracles, he did.

CHAPTER VI

Marie Biener sat at her kitchen table, a cup of decaf coffee going cold before her. She’d already spoken with Beth Ann Robbin back at the Ellerkamp house, but Marie wasn’t surprised to find herself talking some more about her former employer, this time in the additional company of two detectives from the state police. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell them any more than she’d already shared with Beth Ann. If Edwin Ellerkamp had any enemies, she didn’t know of them. If he’d become involved in some dispute over coins, he’d never mentioned it to her, and she hadn’t overheard anything that might have led her to believe that his life could be in danger.

“He wanted to live forever, you know,” she said. “That didn’t turn out so well.” This sounded more callous than she’d intended, so she shrugged an apology.

“Did you like working for him?” Gardner asked.

“The money was good, and so were the hours. I suppose he was pretty easygoing, all things considered. He was fussy about his food, but that’s about it.”

Which was, Gardner noticed, not answering the question.

“But did you like working for him?” she repeated. “Did you like him?”

Marie looked at Beth Ann, who could almost read her thoughts. As it happened, Marie saved Beth Ann from any further psychic-level displays of empathy by speaking them aloud.

“If I said I didn’t, would it make me a suspect?” she said.

“You’re not a suspect, Marie,” said Beth Ann, which was the truth as far as she was concerned, whatever reservations Condell or Gardner might have entertained.

“We think he was killed between midnight and six,” said Condell. “If you want to, you could tell us where you were during those hours.”

“I was in bed,” said Marie. “With my husband. And the alarm system was on. We had it installed after that spate of burglaries a year or two back, and now Ray activates it as a matter of course before he turns in. I don’t mind, especially not with the kids to worry about. To leave, someone would have to deactivate the system, and there would be a record of it. It’s easy to check. I can show you the code.”

Condell made a note.

“We have to ask these things,” said Gardner.

“I understand,” said Marie. “And in answer to your earlier question, I didn’t particularly like Edwin. I worked for him because he paid well and on time, and his house was ten minutes from mine, but we weren’t friendly, and we rarely spoke more than a few words to each other. Edwin wasn’t friends with or close to anyone, as far as I could tell, but that didn’t bother him. He liked his own company, and he had his coins.”

“What about the alarm system at his house?” said Condell. “Did he have a routine?”

“I don’t know,” said Marie. “He was always awake before I got there so I never had cause to use it, but I remember him telling me once that he turned it on in the evenings, once he decided that he didn’t need to go out again, not even for a breath of night air in his yard.”

“The alarm had been deactivated,” said Beth Ann. “It happened just before midnight, according to the record on the system.”

“Maybe he heard something outside and went to check.”

“That might be it,” said Condell. “Did you know that he kept a licensed firearm in the house?”

“Yes, he stored it in his bedroom. I saw it once or twice, a little revolver.”

“We found it in the kitchen, beside the sink.”

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