Murder in the Air (33 page)

As far as I was concerned, Manderbach had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker. He was pursuing Kay with a passion. Almost every day he'd stop by the cosmetics counter where she worked to bring her a flower, or a small gift. All the while he kept feeding her his lies
—
lies about himself the wife he loathed, the father who belittled
him, his loneliness, and his desire to meet the woman of his dreams. Of course, he maintained that Kay was that woman, but it was just a line. I could see right through it, though I wasn't always sure Kay could. As time went on I grew more and more concerned that she might believe some of his bullshit. We talked a lot those last few weeks. I tried to straighten out her thinking, and for the most part, I believe I succeeded.

Finally, Gne night, after dinner at a downtown restaurant, Manderbach invited her back to his house. This was very unusual, and Kay was not only taken by surprise, but she was somewhat frightened. She pointed out to him that he was married. What if his wife saw them together, or his father? It seemed not only risky, but foolhardy. Manderbach explained that his sister had gone Christmas shopping that night, and his wife was attending a concert with one of her many girlfriends. As for his father, he never got out of bed anymore. So, everything was covered. No one would see them.

Well, Kay could hardly say no. I mean, this was just what we'd been waiting for. Our goal all along had been to get her inside the mansion. If Kay was persuasive, she'd be able to convince him to give her a tour of the place. As I said before, I was particularly interested in his automobiles.

That night, Kay hit the jackpot. In thinking about it later, I found it odd that Manderbach would take her into the garage even before they went into the house, but he explained that his father was a great collector of cars, some antique, others he hoped to keep long enough to earn the label. All this collecting was done, of course, before his father had taken to his sickbed. Bud loved cars himself and insisted that Kay see the collection. After all, they were his now
—
or would be soon enough.

The garage was oversized and unheated. After retrieving an extra key from under a snow-covered flowerpot, Bud unlocked the door. He then took Kay by the arm and waltzed her past a Duesenberg, two Cords, and an old
Packard. These were all in the back of the garage, up on blocks, parked in by five other cars. The first in line was a baby-blue Buick which belonged to his wife. Next was a white Edsel This was B.B.'s car, though she rarely drove it. She preferred taking cabs. Bud explained that driving made his sister nervous. Next came the empty space where Bud usually parked his car. It was in the driveway at the moment. A dark green Chrysler New Yorker. Third came his father's car, a black Cadillac with gray leather interior. And finally, a silver Rolls-Royce. The last two were hardly ever driven. These were the two newer cars Bud's father wanted to preserve.

Bud maneuvered Kay around the garage like a king showing a queen his kingdom. Even though he rushed her past the Cadillac, Kay spied the damage to the front fender. It was just what I figured. Manderbach had been in no hurry to get it repaired, especially since all the body shops in town were on the lookout for just this kind of damage. Better to wait until the furor over the hit-and-run had died down. Olga Landauer's brother had kept the story alive in the papers, but that couldn't last forever. Soon it would be a dead issue.

After a brief tour of the inside of the mansion
—
Manderbach skipped the third floor, where his father had his bedroom
—
he took Kay out to a small, one-story house at the rear of the property. He called it the “cook's cottage.
”
Once inside, he put on some romantic music, dimmed the lights, and then asked her to dance. She said it was a pretty place. A living room with a series of windows facing a garden. They were mullioned windows, the kind with tiny diamond-shaped panes, but that evening they were covered by thick curtains. The interior was comfortable, not at all lavish. Masculine. Lots of browns and golds. An old braided rug covered a polished wood floor. And there was a fireplace. In front of it was a small round table with a cloth over it. On top of that was a bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of ice, two glasses, and some toast points and caviar. Kay had never tasted caviar before. Turns out, she
hated it. I guess Manderbach got quite a bang out of that. He said he'd never had anyone refuse his caviar before.

See, Mom, Kay didn't have pretensions. That's what was so great about her. If she liked something, she liked it because it appealed to her, not became other people thought it was good. It was the same way with her looks. I don't think she ever really grasped how lovely she was, how easy it was for men to fall in love with her. She was a straight shooter, and thought other people were, too. That night, Bud told her he loved her. It was the first time he'd ever said anything like that. He explained that he was going to ask his wife for a divorce. While he didn't propose marriage, he did say that when he was a free man, there was something he wanted to ask her.

Well, I mean, it was just more of his bullshit. Manderbach no doubt used that same line on all his girlfriends just to get them in the sack. When I pointed that out to Kay later that evening
—
after he'd brought her back to my apartment
—
she grew quiet. Almost distant. At first I was confused by her silence, but after a while I figured it was all part of an important lesson she needed to learn about men like Manderbach, even if it did bruise her ego a little. In an effort to cheer her up, I opened my own bottle of champagne. I mean, she'd found an incredibly important piece of evidence. We needed to celebrate.

The next step was to document it.

Late the following afternoon, Bud came down to the cosmetics counter to tell Kay he couldn't have dinner with her that night. He had an important meeting the next morning and needed to spend the rest of the evening upstairs in his office, going over a report. He was apologetic, even asked for a rain check. He wanted to take her to a new restaurant just down the block, but could they do it tomorrow night instead of tonight? Kay was happy to agree. She called me when she got home to explain the change in plans. Needless to say, this was just the break I'd been waiting for. Emboldened by the assurance that Manderbach wouldn't be around, I told Kay I'd pick her
up at her apartment at seven-fifteen. I spent the next hour trying to get hold of a decent camera. I needed a really good one, not the piece of crap I had at home.

After a quick dinner, we drove to the Manderbach mansion in St. Paul and parked about a block away. I don't know if you've ever seen the place, Mom, but it's pretty impressive. It looks like a medieval castle. Under the cover of darkness, we crept silently through the alley to the back of the garage
—
the side away from the house. I'd already checked out the main house. The only light that was on in the first two floors came from a room at the rear of the second story. Kay said it belonged to B.B. Of course, the third floor, where Manderbach Sr. was now imprisoned, was lit up like a Christmas tree, especially the north turret, but that didn't concern me. The best part was, Manderbach's car was nowhere around. He hadn't been lying to Kay. Actually, it had occurred to me that old Bud might have had other plans for the evening, specifically, another woman. That would have hurt Kay, but it would also have opened her eyes to the kind of man he really was. I half prayed for that to be the case, but if it was, Bud was off somewhere else doing his Mr. Smooth act.

Kay extracted the key from under the pot and opened the door. I'd brought a flashlight and was careful to keep it away from the windows. I quickly located the Cadillac. While Kay stood guard at the door I snapped a bunch of photos. As soon as I got the film developed, I planned to take the evidence to the police. I finally had the proof I'd been looking for.

“All done,” I called to Kay. I was still crouching in front of the car.

That's when I saw her strain to see something outside in the darkness. She watched for a moment, then turned and held a finger to her lips.

“ What? “ I whispered. I switched off the flashlight. Moonlight streamed in through the windows.

“Oh, God, “ she said, suddenly backing farther into the room. The look on her face was sheer terror.

A moment later I saw him. It was Manderbach. He'd moved into the doorway, blocking her exit. He wasn't wearing a coat, or even a suit coat, but merely his shirt and tie. He slipped his hands casually into the pockets of his slacks and looked around the garage. Even though his demeanor was easy, I could tell Kay was scared to death. So was I. He was like a tiger stalking his prey
—
cold, calculating, and full of menace.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, removing a cigarette case and lighter from his pocket. After lighting up, he offered one to Kay, but she declined. As he blew smoke out of his nose he studied her. “Well?”

Kay looked around, careful not to give my presence away. “Waiting,” she said finally.

He just stared at her, as if they had all the time in the world. “For what, darling?”

She drew her coat more tightly around her. “You.”

I'd always known Kay was a clever girl. Right then, that knowledge was the only thing keeping me from jumping out of my skin.

“What do you mean?” he said, flicking some ash onto the floor.

“Do you know what kind of reputation you have in this town?”

“Sure. Not good. I haven't been a faithful husband, but you of all people should know why. Besides, what's that got to do with anything?”

She kept her head down as she continued, “I had to know if you were really working late tonight.”

Again, he stared at her with those dark eyes of his. They were like two cold steel balls. “You came all the way over here, stood in this freezing garage for God knows how long, just to find out if I was bringing another woman back here?”

“I called your office around seven. No one answered.”

This I knew was a lie. At least I thought it was. Why would she call him after he canceled the date? She was taking some big chances, but I had no other choice than to go along
with her instincts. As they continued to talk I eased carefully under the car, taking the camera with me.

“I sent my secretary home at five,” he continued. “I never answer my own telephone.”

“You weren't with another woman, then?”

“No!” He tossed his cigarette aside, stepped closer, and took her in his arms. She didn't resist when he kissed her. She was a good actress. She made it look like it was what she really wanted. She was so convincing, she almost had me fooled. I knew she loved me, that it was all an act, but watching them, well, it was like someone had strapped electrodes to my brain and then turned up the voltage. I closed my eyes, but I couldn't stand it. I had to watch. I needed every ounce of self-control I possessed not to climb out from under that car and kill him right then and there. But I waited. Fool that I was, I waited.

“Your hands are cold as ice,” he said, lifting them to his lips. “Come to the cottage. I'll build a fire and then make us a pot of coffee
.”

“But… your wife?”

He smiled. “I asked her for that divorce today, Kay. She knows the score. She won't give us any trouble.”

He led her outside.

I don't know how long I stayed there under that car, but it was a long time. I couldn't move. I was numb, but not from the cold. What I'd just witnessed had left me shaken and confused. I was jealous, unreasonably so, and angry, and yet I couldn't blame Kay. She'd gotten us both out of a jam. But I still couldn't shake my anxiety. Was all of this merely quick thinking on her part? Or was some part of it
—
any part of it
—
real?

When I got home that night, I waited for her phone call. I paced the floor, watched some TV, and eventually poured myself a stiff Scotch. As the snow started to come down outside I sat in the dark. It seemed I was doing an awful lot of waiting lately, and I didn't like it.

She never called that night, Mom. I didn't talk to her again until the next day, and when I did, I was dumbfounded
by what she had to say. Manderbach was more slippery than I'd ever imagined. And more dangerous. Even Kay had to admit that she'd been surprised. Believe me when I tell you that what went on inside the cottage that night not only caught me off guard, but started the chain of events that eventually spun all our lives out of control. That's all for tonight, Mom.

Till tomorrow,
Justin

27

The lights had been dimmed. A fire was burning in the fireplace. The romantic mood had been choreographed to please long before she arrived. Dorothy entered the small cottage behind the Manderbach mansion and, knowing the fireworks were about to begin, allowed herself a moment to assess the battlefield. The cottage had no doubt been used for the same romantic purposes many times before. Dorothy assumed he had his moves down to a science.