For Whom the Minivan Rolls (31 page)

Marie Aiello called, as promised, the next morning,
and I told her the whole story. She was shocked, but sounded
relieved that she could put the whole thing to rest. She said we
should meet someday, so I could pay her the ten dollars I owed her,
but neither of us tried to make a firm date of it.

I didn’t call Charlotte Rossi. There are some things
even I don’t have the nerve to do.

Milt Ladowski called, too, but he wasn’t sure why.
We talked for a few minutes, and he blustered and tried to get mad
at me, but his heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t face any criminal
charges, and wasn’t going to be disbarred. He did, however, resign
as Borough Attorney. Luckily, he had something to fall back on.

I had something to fall back on, too, so I started
going to the Y again the next day in an attempt to get rid of it.
But that morning, the first day after Joel’s visit, I had work to
do.

Once I had all the facts, I called the night city
editor at the
Newark Star-Ledger
, the biggest newspaper in
New Jersey, and offered her the story, although we’d never met. She
asked me to fax a couple of clips, I did, and she bought the
Beckwirth story. For a lot less than a thousand dollars, but hey,
it was an “in” at the
Star-Ledger
. You could do worse. I
used the money to replace the stereo speaker Joel shot out. My
first murder investigation, and I had managed to break even.

The next morning I deleted from my computer files
the romantic comedy screenplay I’d been struggling with, and
started work on a murder mystery. They say “write what you
know.”

Gary Beckwirth actually called me later that day,
his voice almost robotic. He said he wanted to apologize, and for
the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why.

“For sending those men to follow you in the
minivan,” he said. “They had Madlyn under surveillance, but they
panicked when they saw her outside that night, and look
what. . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Forget it, Gary,” I said. “Until you just mentioned
it, I had.”

“Well, Milton said you were upset,” Gary said. “It
wasn’t my intention to upset you.”

I didn’t know how to answer that, so I asked, “How
are you holding up?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Beckwirth said. “Really.” I wasn’t
sure if he’d be facing any criminal charges, but I never thought
for a moment he’d spend a night in jail. Sad to say, it wouldn’t
surprise me if he killed himself within the year.

Barry Dutton asked me to come to his office and give
a full statement in the presence of Colette Jackson and a
videographer, and I did, explaining what I knew and how I knew it.
It took quite some time, but when it was over, I managed to pull
Barry to one side.

“Okay, what’s the latest?” I asked him.

“It’s okay,” Barry said. “I can talk in front of
this crowd. The killer’s been found.”

“Yeah, and he was a fourteen-year-old kid.
Jesus!”

“The interesting ones are the Barlows. Or, at least,
Martin and Rachel. Renting a car to drive the kid to the casino.
Suggesting he kill his own, um, stepmother?”

“I’ll bet they say it wasn’t them,” I said.

“Are you kidding? According to them, they never
heard
of Joel Beckwirth, much less gave him a gun. They
don’t drive cars, they’ve never been to Atlantic City, and, I’m
guessing, they probably never met Madlyn Beckwirth in their lives.
And all this because they were afraid Rachel would lose the
election.”

“At least you don’t have to worry she’ll fire
you.”

“You never know,” he said seriously.

They held the primary election the following
Tuesday, and sure enough, Sam Olszowy managed to beat the accused
conspirator to homicide by a neat thirty-five votes. Maybe if Sam
had been convicted of a sex crime, the margin of victory would have
been wider. Rachel, from her jail cell, vowed to call for a
recount.

I was going to ignore the election entirely, but
decided instead that I’d use my vote as a protest against a system
that makes us choose between an old, bigoted moron and a homicidal,
scheming moron. I punched the little key that allows for a write-in
vote and very carefully recorded my choice for the job of Midland
Heights mayor—Abigail Stein. I was crushed when she lost.

Margot the Agent continued to call every Wednesday,
presumably out of boredom, and I continued to tell her I was
writing a mystery. She maintained that there is no market for them.
I asked how that would be different from anything else I’d ever
written, and Margot suddenly remembered a veterinarian appointment
for her Pekinese.

I hadn’t actually indulged in a full-blown midlife
crisis yet, but I was getting concerned about my way of making a
living. I’ve seen fifty-year-old freelancers, and they’re a sorry
lot—begging editors half their age for jobs, and showing up at
press junkets strictly for the free food. It’s not the kind of
thing one sees as an attractive Golden Years option.

Even so, it took me by surprise when at dinner one
night, after the kids had retreated to the living room to watch
Kablam!—
it’s an animated TV comedy —my wife said, “you know,
you turned out to be a pretty good detective after all.”

“Oh, I dunno,” I said. “If the murder victim and the
murderer hadn’t actually come looking for me, I probably would have
slept through the whole thing.”

Abby started clearing dishes from the table, and I
got up to help. I opened the dishwasher, which was full, but hadn’t
yet run. Typical.

“Yeah, but you maneuvered the killer into coming
after you. And the victim called because you were doing too good a
job. Not to mention, you solved the mystery of the barbecue sauce
obscenity all by yourself,” she said.

Bending to get the dishwasher detergent from under
the sink, I stopped. “Now, how did you find out about that last
little item?” I asked.

“Ethan told me.”

Shaking my head, I poured the liquid into the little
holes in the dishwasher door, then closed it and started the
dishwasher. “I specifically told that kid not to mention it to
you,” I said.

“This is Ethan we’re talking about. You know Ethan,”
said Abby as I put the dishwasher liquid away and moved the dirty
dishes from the countertop to the sink.

“Yeah, I know Ethan.”

She turned from the table, which she had just wiped
down with a sponge. “I still think that showed some investigative
skill,” Abby said.

I put my hand on my hip and looked at her. “What are
you trying to tell me?” I asked. “That you think this is a
promising career opportunity for me?”

“Not if people with guns are going to keep coming
after you,” she said. “The next time, you might not think to keep
Jeff Mahoney in the closet.”

My lips pursed involuntarily, and I let some air out
through them. “Very nice,” I said.

Abby came over and put her arms around me, throwing
the sponge into the sink behind my back. “It was just a thought,”
she said.

“A thought,” I said. “You really want to be married
to a private dick?”

She gave me a tight hug, and looked into my eyes.
“Better than a public one,” she said.

“Jeff Cohen’s
Minivan
rolls merrily
along—accent on the merrily. Mr. Cohen’s ideas on marriage and
murder (often cut from two ends of the same bolt) are wise, wicked,
and witty. Surprisingly tender, too, regarding the responsibilities
and trials of being a parent—fathering a delightful book in the
process.”

—
Larry Gelbart,
Writer (M*A*S*H, Tootsie,
Oh, God!, Bedazzled, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the
Forum, Barbarians at the Gate, etc.)

“Jeffrey Cohen’s
For Whom The Minivan Rolls
is hot. An authentically fun switch on the oft-used amateur sleuth
theme, it debuts Aaron Tucker, a suburban stay-at-home dad who
never asked to become a detective. Witty, with great characters and
nifty twists, it should delight mystery fans, and, above all,
anyone who enjoys a good puzzle and big laughs. His wife and kids
may not realize it, but Aaron Tucker (and his creator) have
glistening new careers ahead of them.”

—
Tom Sawyer,
Novelist & Former Head
Writer, “Murder, She Wrote”

“In my long and semi-illustrious career, I have been
beaten to various literary punches by lots of dead white guys and
by lots of others who, pending test results, are still alive. Among
them is Jeffrey Cohen, who has written a comic mystery novel that
is (a) comic, (b) mysterious, and (c) a novel.
For Whom the
Minivan Rolls
had me rolling, which is no mean feat considering
I don’t drive a minivan. At least now I won’t have to bother
writing a comic mystery novel because I couldn’t do it nearly as
well as Mr. Cohen. His book is great. I could put it down, and
sometimes did, but I didn’t want to.”

—
Jerry Zezima,
Humorist, Journalist,
& Public Nuisance

“Author Jeffrey Cohen has written a sly,
entertaining mystery whose twist-laden plot will truly puzzle and
entertain. The voice of his protagonist, Aaron Tucker, is unique
and delightful. And above all, his Minivan is immensely funny.”

—
Michael Levine,
Hollywood Publicist and
best-selling author of 12 books.

“
For Whom the Minivan Rolls
is not just a
humorous look into American suburbia and what happens when a
freelance reporter is asked to solve a local murder. It is a fresh,
modern-day murder mystery with real-life, quirky characters that
range from eccentric, obscure, and spirited to witty, guilty, and
just plain nosy. Liberally infused with humor, it all beautifully
blends together into great entertainment. You’ll enjoy it so much
you may even want to try visiting the story’s fictional
setting—Midland Heights, New Jersey.”

—
Chrissy Blumenthal,
Vice
President of Production, Escape Artists (Sony Pictures)

“
How rare!
Minivan
was
as enjoyable as they said it would be, and then some: good, tight
story, humorously told by a fictional character I actually cared
about. If author Jeffrey Cohen isn’t soon spinning a published
Aaron Tucker tale once a year for the next bunch of years, I’ve
been wasting my time reading five mysteries a week for the past two
decades.”

—
Rita Bortz,
Hollywood,
FL

“
Aaron Tucker—aspiring screenwriter, loving
house-hubby, and doting father— protests that he could never become
a detective. Yet, he’s wrong. He’s nothing less than the consummate
snoop, and makes up for his lack of investigative experience with
canine-like persistence and a bloodhound’s instinct for following a
crime trail. Jeffrey Cohen has managed to write a mystery that is
not only full of engaging characters, but features the likeable and
witty voice of Aaron Tucker, who is (doggone it) naturally
humorous. His
For Whom The Minivan Rolls
is thus an engrossing, entertaining read. That it’s a first
novel makes me think and hope that we’ll soon be hearing a lot more
from Jeffrey Cohen, and Aaron Tucker as well!”

—
Elliott Light,
author of
Lonesome Song
and
Chain Thinking,
the first two book-length installments in his
critically acclaimed “Shep Harrington Smalltown Mystery”
Series

“
I thought I’d sit down one night and read
Jeffrey Cohen’s Minivan for just an hour or so, but then I couldn’t
stop myself, and went on reading until the finish. It’s a
remarkably funny, twisted tale of murder and mayhem. Aaron Tucker
is you, me, and everyman. And I can’t wait to read his next
adventure!”
—
Lou Grantt,
Editor,
Hollywood Scriptwriter,
the
trade paper for screenwriters

“
What fun!
Minivan
is a
crackerjack mystery with a prize inside: it’s laugh-out-loud funny
to boot! How can you not like a detective who has to carpool? Or
worry with equal effort about dinner, murder, and checking his
kids’ homework? It’s a great setting and a great crew of
characters, and I hope Aaron Tucker’s lack of success with
screenplays translates into a long and full career solving crime
with wit and whine.”

—
Dan Fiorella,
roving
editor,
Cracked
magazine, and
contributing writer, “Prairie Home Companion”

“
Pick up Jeffrey Cohen’s
For
Whom the Minivan Rolls
and you get a funny, quirky,
insightful look into human nature wrapped around that rarest of all
things: a good story, well told.”

—
Cary Solomon and Chuck Konzelman,
principals, Numenorean Films

“
As the mother of a teenage son with Asperger
Syndrome and President of ASPEN,
^®
I
am especially sensitive to any portrayal of the disorder. In
For Whom the Minivan Rolls,
Jeff Cohen has
done a wonderful job of conveying the lovable quirkiness that’s so
often a part of these children and the day-to-day living that goes
with it. It’s the laughter that gets you through the day, and Jeff
has certainly shown us how interesting life can be for the family
of a child with Asperger Syndrome! Aside from all that, though,
Minivan
was the first book I had read in a
very long time that I absolutely could not put down and that I
thoroughly enjoyed. I was hooked into the story line right from the
beginning and looked forward to turning each page to find out what
next plot twist was in store. The only thing better would be a
movie based on the book, or the next installment in the series,
which I’m anxiously awaiting.”

—
Lori Shery,
Co-Founder and
President, Asperger Syndrome Education Network, Inc.
(ASPEN
^®
)