Murder Finds A Way: An Amy Bell Mystery
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About this ebook
Carl Bayman was a very successful personal-injury attorney until he was found shot to death in his office on a Monday morning in January.The police were making no progress, so one of Carl's grateful former clients hired a smart, sassy, sexy supersleuth, Amy Bell, to try to solve the case.Amy soon discovered that lots of people might want Carl dead. However, none of them had any particular grievance that arose in the weeks prior to the murder, and all of them seemed to have excellent alibis at the time of the murder.Clearly there must be some critical element of the case that everyone was missing. Amy would have to think way out of the box to uncover the shocking truth.Author David Schwinger, when not writing Amy Bell mysteries--there are now fourteen--enjoys composing songs, playing pickleball, and traveling the world with his wife, Sherryl. He first met Sherryl when she was his student in a mathematics class he taught at City College of New York. Their secret romance became the inspiration for his first Amy Bell mystery, The Teacher's Pet Murders.
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Murder Finds A Way - David Schwinger
Murder Finds A Way
An Amy Bell Mystery
David Schwinger
Copyright © 2022 David Schwinger
All rights reserved
First Edition
PAGE PUBLISHING
Conneaut Lake, PA
First originally published by Page Publishing 2022
Although some named locations, such as City College, are real, all depictions of persons, events, and policies at any and all locations in this book are intended to be completely fictional.
ISBN 979-8-88654-401-5 (pbk)
ISBN 979-8-88654-402-2 (digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Monday, January 22, 2018
Tuesday, February 20, 2018, a.m.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018, p.m.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
Friday, February 23, 2018
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Wednesday, February 28, 2018
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Saturday, March 3, 2018
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
Thursday, March 8, 2018
Saturday, March 10, 2018
Monday, March 12, 2018
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
Thursday, March 15, 2018
Friday, March 16, 2018, a.m.
Friday, March 16, 2018, p.m.
Saturday, March 17, 2018
Monday, March 19, 2018
Thursday, March 22, 2018
Saturday, March 24, 2018
About the Author
Also by David Schwinger
The Teacher's Pet Murders
Murder Spoils the Perfect Romance
Murder with Magic
Murder Takes the Top Prize
Murder on the Lido Deck
Letter-Perfect Murder
Willing to Murder
Retirement was Murder
Reputation for Murder
Murder Couldn't Wait
Murder Makes Music
Murder Hits the Campaign Trail
Murder Saves the Day
To Susan, who has made many helpful edit suggestions and has also, with great affection and humor, given me a dose of reality when appropriate.
And to Sally, whose thoughtful and amazingly thorough editing, for all fourteen of my books, has made me look like I know what I'm doing.
Monday, January 22, 2018
At 8:25 a.m., Michael Flagg put his key into the front-door lock of the office of Carl Bayman, Attorney-at-Law. He discovered that the door was already unlocked.
This was highly unusual. Michael had been Carl's legal assistant for the past five years, and, to the best of his knowledge, Carl never arrived for work before eight forty-five. And Jake, the receptionist/administrative assistant, usually didn't show up until shortly before nine.
The law office, specializing in personal injuries, was located in the Auburndale neighborhood of Queens, New York, a relatively low-crime area. But still, Carl, who was usually the last to leave, would never have gone home with the office front door unlocked. Michael was very sure of that.
The office had three main rooms, one behind the other. Michael entered the reception/waiting room and found it empty with nothing appearing out of the ordinary. As expected, no Jake. He loudly called out Jake's name, as well as Carl's, with no response.
Michael proceeded to the meeting/conference room with its long table and ten chairs. He briefly looked around and again called out the two names. The result was the same. Finally, he opened the door in the rear of the room and entered Carl's private office with a computer and phone on a large desk and many books—most of them related to the law—on various shelves. There was also a sofa and a well-cushioned chair in addition to the desk chair.
He immediately observed a handgun on the desk, right next to the computer. And on the floor, next to the desk chair, was Carl's dead body. Michael used his cell phone to call 911. The police arrived ten minutes before Jake did.
It is likely that Carl's murder would have remained unsolved had it not been for the decision of a wealthy man—who was very grateful for Carl's past assistance—to ask a beautiful, brilliant, and expensive private detective to take on the case.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018, a.m.
At ten forty-five, Amy Bell was sitting at her desk in her office at Spy4U Services (located in Manhattan, in the Forties, just off Ninth Avenue), salivating over an article in the latest issue of New Yorker magazine. The subject of the article had nothing to do with her job as vice president for sensitive investigations but rather involved a lurid revelation involving the man she despised more than any other living human being. She picked up the phone and called her husband, Jeremy Green.
Jerry—that's what she called him—was a consulting actuary who usually worked from their two-bedroom-two-bath co-op apartment in Greenwich Village. While Amy kept up her family's tradition and was a progressive
liberal, Jeremy was a Reagan conservative. When asked by friends how she could have married a conservative, Amy always replied that sometimes God smacks you on the ass, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Amy told anyone who would listen that Jeremy was the best thing that ever happened to her and had tamed her, somewhat, from her former politically intolerant bullying personality. They had been married since January 2010, and Amy would also tell people that her husband had been a big help in solving several of her toughest murder cases.
Although Amy dealt with all sorts of detective cases and supervised several Spy4U people, murder cases had become her specialty. She had solved more than a dozen murders, and several members of the NYPD referred to her as Sherlock Bell.
Chester Murray, founder and president of Spy4U, directed all murder investigations to Amy. Mr. Murray—that's what she usually called him—always told Amy it was entirely her call as to whether to accept taking on a murder case. Due to her success record in solving murders that had stumped the police, Amy was viewed as a superstar by everyone at Spy4U.
"Jerry, Jerry! I'm reading an article exposing the fact that Donald Trump had a nine-month sexual affair with a former Playboy model while he was married to Melania, who had recently given birth to Barron. You are supporting an absolute scumbag, and you should be ashamed of yourself!" She rapidly became enraged as she heard her husband laughing hysterically.
Sweetheart, you talk about Trump so often. I think you may have a thing for him! Please resist your primitive urges if Trump propositions you.
Jeremy resumed laughing, and Amy hung up the phone in disgust.
There you go, God,
she muttered, smacking me on the ass again!
Amy immediately called her best girlfriend, Cathy Mitchell. They had been living together in an Astoria apartment until Amy married Jeremy. Cathy was still living in that apartment with her husband, Eddie, an NYPD detective, and their four-year-old daughter, Aurora. Eddie and Jeremy had been friends since their school days in Columbus, Ohio. Amy recounted her phone call with Jeremy.
Cathy, how can Jerry be so stupid? I think he's probably subconsciously enamored with powerful authoritarian men, like Trump and Putin.
Cathy laughed. Maybe, but you should thank your lucky stars that he was still enamored with you and gave you a second chance after that first evening at Marty's.
Cathy was referring to the Manhattan singles bar where Eddie and Jeremy had first met the two women in March 2007. Amy and Jeremy had left Cathy and Eddie and had gone upstairs to a secluded table, where they were having a very nice conversation until Jeremy said the twentieth-century person he most admired was Ronald Reagan. Amy flew into a rage and directed some choice slurs at him, such as reactionary
and self-hating Jew.
Jeremy had no way of realizing that Amy was in the habit of speaking that way to all conservatives and that she was actually very interested in him and wanted to take him back with her that evening to her apartment. When Amy said she was going downstairs to get her coat, he assumed she hated his guts and was a nutcase to boot. He got up and left Marty's via a side exit.
At Eddie's urging, Jeremy gave Amy a second chance and phoned her the next day. This resulted in a torrid affair that lasted several months, followed by a period where they were friends with benefits.
Eventually, they realized that they had loved each other all along, and they became engaged in fall of 2009. Cathy and Eddie eventually also married after a rocky courtship. Amy and Jeremy always viewed the Mitchells just like family.
Their phone call was interrupted by the sound of knocking on Amy's office door. It was Chester. Amy told Cathy she had to hang up and then invited her boss in. She observed a big smile on his face.
Good morning, Mr. Murray, did you just hit the lottery?
Chester laughed. No, but there's a gentleman in my office who hopes he can win a long-shot bet on you. He would like to hire you and Spy4U to try to solve a murder. So I want you to hear his presentation, and as always, it will be your call as to whether we will accept the case.
Amy's salivation immediately switched its source from the magazine article to what Chester had just said. Sure, bring me to him!
She accompanied Chester back to his office, where a fiftyish, overweight, balding man with a round face and a big smile rose and shook Amy's hand.
Hello, Ms. Bell, I'm Walter Polansky. Pleasure meeting you. Chester has told me so much about you! He says if anyone can solve this murder case, it would be you.
Please call me Amy, and I hope I can call you Walter.
He nodded. Of course.
Please don't believe everything Mr. Murray says about me. He wants potential clients to think I'm Wonder Woman, but he has me confused with Lynda Carter.
Everyone laughed.
Excuse me, Amy, but you said we should use first names. Was it wrong for me to call Mr. Murray by his first name?
For you, that's fine. For me, Mr. Murray is God. And I always call God by his last name.
Chester smiled. Amy, if I'm God, how could I confuse you with Lynda Carter?
Again, they all laughed.
When things had calmed down, Amy spoke. Okay, Walter, tell me everything you know about the murder you want us to investigate. But please understand that while I have had success with some murder investigations, solving a murder is generally a long-shot proposition.
He nodded. "Understood. I am a freelance accountant. A few years ago, while shopping in a department store, I fell and injured my back. The store's floor in that area was somewhat slippery due to having recently been cleaned with a liquid. There was a sign the cleaners had put up, but I did not notice it because of the way it was displayed.
"For various reasons, several lawyers whom I consulted declined to take on my case. And they weren't too friendly either. But Carl Bayman treated me with great respect and courtesy. He listened to my presentation while taking copious notes. He asked thoughtful questions. Then he requested that I give him a day to analyze my situation, and he would get back to me. Of course, I said yes.
"When Carl phoned me the next day, he said he would accept the case, and I would not have to pay him anything whatsoever unless and until I recovered the money from the department store. I asked Carl if he was confident that I could win my case. I remember his exact words: ‘Absolutely! I don't accept cases unless I'm very confident I'll win them!'
"From that point on, Carl frequently updated me on the progress of the case. I began to view him as my friend as well as my lawyer. I ended up receiving roughly three hundred fifty thousand dollars, and that was after Carl took out his share.
"This brings me to why I'm here today. Carl was murdered on Friday, January 19 of this year. He was shot three times while in his law office. The police seem to be going nowhere in their investigation. I owe it