The Cigarette Killer

By Claudia Hall Christian

The Cigarette Killer was never happier than when he was talking about torturing and murdering people. He flamboyantly bragged his way through two books and numerous televisions programs. So, why did he suddenly appeal his conviction?

According to his lawyer, Seth O’Malley and his deceased partner Mitch Delgado framed a poor disabled man. A cursory DNA test
seems to prove that the Cigarette Killer’s DNA does not match the perpetrator of these horrific crimes.

Alarm bells ring all over the country! This single case could lead to the reversal of thousands of cases. Requested by name, Ava O’Malley, Seth’s wife and forensic expert, and her team, along with other forensic experts are sequestered to recheck every forensic finding.

Told to stay in New York City, O’Malley’s focuses on the murder of a bouncer and a dancing girl outside of the Savoy Ballroom in 1955. As the Savoy Ballroom case unravels, O’Malley finds himself in the middle another Cigarette Killer murder.

As two mysteries become one, O’Malley is shot and captured by a Mob boss with nothing to lose.

The Cigarette Killer is filled with memorable characters, romance, and intrigue readers have come to expect from Claudia Hall Christian. The Cigarette Killer is the fourth in the Seth and Ava Mystery series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cook Street Publishing cookstreetpublishinggmail.com
• Release date: Nov 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781938057519

Claudia Hall Christian

Claudia Hall Christian writes stories about good people caught in difficult situations. Her stories are addictive, heart pounding, and intense. She is the author of the Alex the Fey thriller series, the Queen of Cool, the Seth and Ava Mysteries, Suffer a Witch, Abee Normal Paranormal Investigations, and the longest consecutive serial fiction ever written, Denver Cereal. She lives in Denver where she keeps bees, gardens, hangs out with her Plott Hounds, and husband

Book preview

The Cigarette Killer

A Seth and Ava Mystery

Claudia Hall Christian

Cook Street Publishing

Denver, CO

Copyright © Claudia Hall Christian

ISNI: 0000 0003 6726 170X

Licensed under the Creative Commons License:

Attribution – NonCommercial – Share Alike 3.0

ISBN (13 digits): 978-1-938057-51-9 (digital)

978-1-938057-50-2 (print)

Library of Congress available on request

PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

First edition © November 2017

Cook Street Publishing

ISNI: 0000 0004 1443 6403

PO Box 18217

Denver, CO 80218

For Dr. Evalina Burger,

Bob Cooley, PaC,

Emily Stone, PhD,

and all of the nurses, techs, interns, and assorted helpers who work to keep me upright,

out of pain, and writing.

.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Table of Contents

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Epilogue

Author Page

Prologue

1965

New York City, New York

Are you ready? asked ten-year-old Seth O’Malley.

His only friend in the entire world, Claire Boyer, gave him a quick nod. A cool fourteen, she grabbed her small purse and followed him out of her mother’s apartment. Seth was a prodigy pianist, who had started his music scholarship to Eastman Music College in Rochester six weeks before. Bored and lonely in Rochester, he’d made a habit of coming down to New York City for the weekends. He and Claire had instantly become friends the first moment they’d met his first week at Eastman. Claire had offered to help him find someone to teach him how to play jazz piano.

Where to? Seth asked when they were on the street.

This way, Claire said.

She hooked elbows with Seth, and they set off toward the subway. They walked fast for no other reason than that they could. They were out of breath by the time they reached the terminal for the 8th Avenue train at the 50th Street Subway Station. Because everything about the subway was new to Denver native Seth, Claire carefully guided her young friend through buying tokens and how to get down to the platform for the 8th Avenue train.

The upper level is the 8th Avenue train platform, Claire said.

Seth nodded, pretending that what she’d said made perfect sense to him.

You’re lucky to be traveling with me, Claire said. I won’t get us lost.

Overwhelmed by the noise and press of people in the subway station, Seth could only smile his gratitude. He was sure he would never, ever be able to ride the subway without her. Claire hooked his arm again, and they stepped onto a train. The subway train whizzed through a dark tunnel. Seth knew that, somewhere above them, Central Park was flying by. From where he sat, there was no indication of anything more than dark tunnels. Claire dragged Seth off the train at 116th Street. They jogged up the stairs until they were on the street.

"How did you do that?" Seth asked.

I practiced after school yesterday, Claire said with a laugh.

Seth smiled at his brave friend. She grinned at him and pointed. They walked slowly up the street. Claire pulled a piece of paper from her pocket.

Let’s see . . . Claire said. She pointed up Lenox Avenue. This way.

They set off up Lenox Avenue. Claire stopped short.

This is where the Cotton Club was, Claire said.

They were looking at a tall, brick apartment building. It was almost ten in the morning, but there was no one stirring. There were a couple of tall men standing on the corner. Claire tugged on Seth’s arm until they were shoulder to shoulder.

You think they’re in there? Claire asked.

Seth gave a hopeless shrug. He noticed the men on the corner for the first time. With his look, the men started walking in their direction. Dragging Seth along, Claire set off walking up the street.

Do you want to take the subway? Claire asked with a glance over her shoulder.

The two men from the corner had picked up a third. Seth looked at Claire and then glanced at the men.

Sure, Seth said.

They crossed the street and ran as fast as they could back to 116th Street. When they got to the subway platform, the men were waiting for them. Seth looked at the men’s faces to assess what the men wanted from them. The men gave him an angry sneer. Intimidated, he swallowed hard. He and Claire shuffled onto the subway train when it arrived. The men followed them onto the subway train. When the men got off at 125th Street, Claire visibly relaxed. They took the train to 135th Street and got off.

Seth followed Claire up to the street. On one corner, there was a hospital across the street. What looked like a library was catty-corner from them.

That’s a library for Neg . . . I mean Black studies, Claire said. Seth glanced at her, and she nodded. I came here last week to see if I could find out anything. It was the librarian who told me that all of the musicians from the ‘old jazz clubs’ lived in these buildings here. There were big swing clubs like the Cotton Club and the Savoy Ballroom. They tore them down to build some apartments and stuff there.

Claire nodded, and Seth smiled at her brilliance.

Where to? Seth asked.

His eyes picked up two different men walking toward them. A third man joined the other two men. If Claire noticed the men, she didn’t say anything. She took his elbow, and they started down the street. She stopped right in front of another tall building.

This is where the Savoy Ballroom used to be, Claire said. It was called the ‘World’s Finest Ballroom.’ No discrimination either. People were judged based on how well they swing danced.

Claire nodded.

Swing danced? Seth asked.

It’s a kind of fast dance you do to jazz, Claire said. I bet they had great pianist at the Savoy!

What’s it to you? a man’s voice came from behind them.

Seth and Claire whipped around. The scary men were right behind them. A tall, muscular man passed by them and stood about six feet in front of them, while two men stood behind them. Having spent all of his life with the bully he thought was his father, Seth wasn’t afraid of these men. He figured they were just protecting their neighborhood from prying eyes. Claire’s entire body shook was shaking with fear.

I am looking for someone to help me learn jazz piano, Seth said.

He stood up straight like his older brother, Saul, had taught him to do. The men laughed at him. Seth shrugged.

If you know someone, I’d like to meet them, Seth said.

What I know . . . A tall, rail-thin man came right up to Seth and poked him in the chest. Seth stumbled back.  . . .is that you don’t belong here.

I want to learn how to play jazz piano, Seth said. No one in my neighborhood plays jazz piano. Claire talked to a librarian who told her that lots of musicians live right here.

Seth pointed to the building. The men snickered.

And you think they should teach you? Why would anyone . . . The skinny man poked Seth in the chest.

 . . . have anything . . . the skinny man said with another hard poke in Seth’s chest.

 . . . to do . . . The skinny man tried to poke Seth again, but Seth jumped away from his finger.  . . . with you!

The skinny man backhanded Seth across the face. Seth’s front two teeth flew out of his mouth. Seth collapsed onto the sidewalk. The last thing he remembered was Claire screaming at the top of her lungs.

He was unconscious for a little more than a minute. When he came around, a thick-set middle-aged woman with pink curlers in her hair was yelling at the men. Claire was sitting on the sidewalk right next to his head. Her hand was holding a tissue to his mouth.

Get the hell out of here, you hoodlums! the woman with pink curlers said. Her pink curlers bounced when she talked. Beating up a child.

This little cracker was trying to . . . the man started.

I don’t give one shit about what this child was or was not doing, the woman with pink curlers said.

Seth heard another woman say, Uh, huh.

You disgrace us all by beating up a little kid, the woman with pink curlers said.

An elderly woman leaned down to Seth.

Are you okay, son? the elderly woman asked.

Seth nodded. Claire’s tissue slipped, and Seth felt blood pour from his mouth and lip. The elderly woman put a bag of frozen peas on his mouth. Seth tried to smile, but his mouth hurt too much.

We saw everything that happened, the elderly woman said.

She pointed to the building they had been looking at.

What are you doing here? the elderly woman asked Seth.

I want to learn jazz piano, Seth lisped. He unintentionally sprayed blood with every word. I can pay. I just want to learn. Claire’s just here to help me.

The feeling of being all alone in the world threatened to overwhelm Seth. His eyes welled with tears.

Only a tiny, tiny man would beat up a little kid — white or not! the woman with pink curlers said. You — who’s out there protesting all the time for equality. You explain the equality of smacking around a little kid.

Shut the hell up, the man said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seth saw Claire jump up from the sidewalk.

You don’t get to talk to her like that, Claire yelled at the man. She’s older than you. She deserves your respect!

The man pulled back his hand to hit Claire, but the woman with pink curlers got right in his face. She opened her mouth to say something to the man, but the elderly woman spoke first.

They’re here to find a jazz piano teacher, the elderly woman said to the woman with pink curlers. Says he can pay.

I’m going to Big Daddy. The woman’s face was less than an inch from the man’s. "I’m going to tell him that you hit this little boy — knocked out his teeth, made him bleed all over the sidewalk — just because he wanted to pay to learn something from someone around here."

She sniffed at the man. He reeled back from the woman in terror. Hooking her arm with Claire’s, the woman said, Come on, honey. Let’s go find Big Daddy.

Claire gave Seth a horrified look as the woman dragged her away.

Help me with this! the elderly woman commanded.

The man who’d been in front of them plucked Seth off the sidewalk and set him on his feet. The elderly woman took Seth’s arm while Seth held the peas to his mouth.

Can you walk? the elderly woman asked. I can get one of these men to carry you.

Seth nodded that he could walk.

Good, the elderly woman said. They started walking in the same direction as the woman with pink curlers and Claire. She leaned in to Seth’s ear. I wouldn’t have minded making them carry you, but I like it that you’re tougher than that.

Seth tried to smile, but his mouth really hurt. The elderly woman caught his grimace and smiled.

You knocked those out before? the elderly woman asked.

Seth shook his head.

That’s good, the elderly woman said. They’ll grow back.

Thank you, Seth said in a spray of blood.

The elderly woman laughed at Seth’s bloody words, and Seth laughed at himself.

When I was younger, I took care of boys like you, the elderly woman said. Rich white folks. Your parents rich?

Seth shook his head and pointed to himself.

Just you? the elderly woman asked. She stopped walking. I hope you take care of your Mama.

Seth gave a vigorous nod.

Where are they? the elderly woman asked.

Denver, Seth tried to say, but his mouth was swelling. I came out as something like Den-bear.

The elderly woman clicked her tongue against her teeth to relay that she didn’t like it that his parents were far away.

You on vacation with your girlfriend? the elderly woman asked.

The elderly woman gestured toward Claire. Seth shook his head. He managed to say something that sounded like school. He held his hand out and wiggled his fingers to indicate that he played the piano.

That so, the elderly woman said. I used to work at the Savoy Ballroom.

You used to work a lot, Seth said

The elderly woman laughed.

That’s a fact, the elderly woman said.

Seth smiled.

I like you, the elderly woman said. I didn’t expect to, but I do.

The elderly woman nodded as if she had paid him a dear compliment. Seth tried to grin, but his face hurt so badly that he just nodded. The woman patted his hand and they kept walking.

Who’s ‘Big Daddy’? Seth asked, spraying blood on the sidewalk again.

My son, the elderly woman said. Not sure what that meant, Seth nodded and they kept walking.

His wife is her daughter, the elderly woman said, gesturing to the woman with pink curlers. She’s my best friend — has been since the day she was born. She’s ten years younger than me.

Still not sure what she was saying, Seth nodded. As they approached a plain-looking building, the elderly woman leaned in.

You be respectful, the elderly woman said. Disrespect here could get you killed. There won’t be a damned thing I can do about it.

Scowling, Seth nodded that he understood.

Good, the elderly woman said. Glad you understand. Your parents taught you well.

Brother, Seth said or thought he did.

The elderly woman nodded but didn’t respond. She gave him a smile, and they went inside. They heard the pink curlers woman’s voice from a room ahead. The elderly woman and Seth entered the room. A seated man stood up as soon as the elderly woman walked into the room. They moved closer to where the man was sitting. As if they were guarding the place, a number of burly and bored-looking men stood around the room. Seth and the elderly woman moved into the room, and Seth saw that it was some kind of an office.

When the elderly woman walked forward, Seth got his first real look at the man. He was not as tall as Seth’s older brother Saul or his father, O’Malley. When the man hugged the elderly woman, Seth saw that they were the same height. While the elderly woman was willowy, the man was thick-set. He had rings on his fingers, gold bracelets on his wrists, and gold chains around his neck. His hair was short, thick, and tight to his head. He wore a red, long-sleeved dress shirt, a suit vest, and suit pants. Seth spied the jacket to the suit hanging over the back of the chair. Malice came off the man like water from a duck.

When the man moved away from his mother, the man’s dark eyes latched onto Seth’s blue eyes. Seth felt a pulse of energy move through him. The energy didn’t feel evil or even angry. Seth knew this man was a powerful force of nature. For reasons Seth would never understand, the man’s power didn’t intimidate Seth. Reading this in Seth, the man’s head went up and down in an almost-imperceptible nod.

What do you want, little man? the man asked. Why are you here? Someone sent you?

Before Seth could respond, a beautiful woman came into the room. The woman wore a bright-blue silk dress that rustled "Swoop, swish, swoop" when she walked. The men shifted at the sight of her.

Now, come on, Momma! a beautiful woman said. Nothing is worth getting so upset about.

Big Daddy’s eyes shifted from Seth to the beautiful woman. Still watching Big Daddy, Seth saw the man’s pupils widen at the mere sight of the woman. The man’s lips turned up in a kind of smile. Catching the man’s look, she gave him a slight, knowing smile. Seth had no idea what passed between the man and this woman. He instinctively knew he wanted a woman to look at him like that someday.

You’re still wearing your curlers, Momma! the woman said. Come. Have some breakfast. You, too, Mother. Please.

The beautiful woman nodded to the elderly woman.

I don’t want to be a bother, the elderly woman said.

You are never a bother, the beautiful woman said. We were out late last night at the World’s Fair, so we’re just getting up and around.

And my gran’babies? the elderly woman asked.

The elderly woman’s face held a kind of desire that caused the man in front of Seth to laugh. When the man laughed, the men standing around the room smiled.

They are sleeping, the man said.

The man smiled with such intensity at the beautiful woman that Seth could have sworn that she blushed.

Where are my manners? the elderly woman asked herself. She turned to Seth, This is my son. He’s called ‘Big Daddy’ because his father thought that would be a good stage name.

I’m Bernice, the beautiful woman said. She gestured to the woman in pink curlers, My mother. Everyone calls her ‘Susan.’

Bernice held out her hand to Seth, and Seth shook it. Her hand was cold in his hand. Seth instinctively wrapped her dark hand with his small hands. Bernice gave Seth a curious look. Seth could feel more than see Big Daddy’s eyes on him.

Your hand is cold, Seth mumbled, his mouth was sufficiently swollen so as to be almost bearable.

For the first time, Bernice saw his mouth.

Oh, my, Bernice said.

Shocked, Bernice let go of Seth’s hand. She jerked her head to look at Big Daddy.

Your men did this? Bernice asked.

They sure did, the woman in pink curlers, Bernice’s mother, said.

Susan, the woman in pink curlers, went through the entire thing again, finishing with, and all the boy wanted to do was find someone to teach him.

He can pay, the elderly woman said.

Can he? Big Daddy asked with something like a sneer.

Feeling the man’s malice, Seth took a wad of money out of his front pocket. Big Daddy’s fingers moved over the wad as if he was counting. He looked into Seth’s eyes again.

That’s a lot of money, Big Daddy said. Where’d you get that? You steal it? Rich Daddy?

"He made it, Claire said. Claire was suddenly at Seth’s side. He’s a great piano player."

Big Daddy gave Seth a suspicious look. Not one willing to impress anyone, Seth simply raised his eyebrows. Big Daddy took in the small boy, his pale skin, the swelling at his mouth, and blood on his shirt. Shaking his head in disgust at Big Daddy, Seth put the money back in his pocket. Not willing to give his power to the boy, Big Daddy made a vague gesture to the piano in the corner. Big Daddy sat down to his breakfast. Seth stood still in front of him.

Well? Big Daddy asked after a moment.

The man raised his eyebrow in a challenge. Seth shrugged at the challenge and nonchalantly walked to the piano. He checked that the piano was in tune for such a long time that Big Daddy finally cleared his throat. Grinning to himself, Seth began playing the song that would someday be called A Melody for Amelie. No one said anything when he finished, so Seth played his first concerto. He played with passion and intensity while the people in the room