The Instrumental Rabbi (A Professor McCauley Mystery) Page 7

  Stockmann had received a text message from an unknown caller which simply said “345” yet he knew who the text was from and he knew what it meant.

  Chandler was to meet with Juergen Elsinger last evening and make the exchange. Elsinger had not arrived as scheduled at RS1 last evening and was unreachable on his mobile phone. “345” indicated that there was a problem and Chandler needed to meet with Stockmann at the reservoir at 3:45 a.m.

  Stockmann knew what must have happened. It had happened 3 times before. Something had gone wrong and Chandler had to “terminate” the relationship with the transporter. Twice it had been due to blackmail and once due to a simple error. He wondered what the reason was for it today.

  Two of the deaths were those of outside contractors and untraceable to Bhermann. The last one was of a female employee who actually worked in Dr. Scheiter’s home.

  That death had been particularly hard to deal with as the employee simply dropped the bag and the Thermos fell out and opened. It was an accident that would cost her life.

  Stockmann’s crew had spent 2 days dissolving her body in acid so that no trace of her was every found. To her family, she was simply one of countless disappearances that would never be solved. The Bhermann Company had been very kind to them financially and they were grateful.

  As he pulled into the clearing, Stockmann saw Dr. Chandler standing beside his car.

  “What happened this time?” asked Stockmann glaring at Chandler as he exited the car.

  “Your errand boy got a little too curious, so I had to perform a quick incision.” said Chandler with a slight grin. “I sliced him in the parking lot and brought you the bag myself.”

  “And where is the body?” said Stockmann almost unable to control his anger.

  “I had to stuff it underneath his car in the parking lot.” replied Chandler casually.

  “You FOOL Chandler!” shouted Stockmann. “The police are sure to be involved by now.”

  “Let them be involved,” said Chandler getting irritated with Stockmann’s tone, “there is no way they will tie it to me or to you. I made it look like a simple robbery.”

  “Your stupid actions and overconfidence will get us all hung!” said Stockmann wanting to smash that smirk off of Chandler’s face.

  Chandler was becoming a problem that Stockmann would have to deal with and he had known it for sometime. The doctor served his purpose, but had started to become more reckless and unpredictable as the murders continued. Stockmann slowly reached his hand behind him toward the Heckler & Koch pistol tucked into his belt at the base of his back.

  “And your mouth will be the end of you yet Karl Heinz…” said Chandler gripping the stiletto in his pocket very tightly.

  Chapter 8

  75 Coolidge Hill Road, Cambridge, MA

  Jenny arrived at the Professor’s house at 8:45 am. They had both been so tired the day before that neither had the strength to resume work that day. McCauley had worked well into the night but Jenny had slept almost 12 hours and awoke refreshed and ready to go at 6 a.m. She showered and dressed and had breakfast at the local Dunkin’ Donuts before heading out to meet the Professor.

  McCauley had studied the case notes until 3 a.m. and fell asleep in the big leather chair in his study. He woke at 7:15 am and showered; changing his clothes before having a cup of the sludge he calls coffee. He was waiting for Jenny at the door when she arrived.

  “Well, you look well for the wear.” said the Professor as Jenny entered the study.

  “Yes, I caught up on my sleep last night and I feel much better.” she said smiling. “I brought you a cup of Dunkin Donuts.”

  “Thank you Jenny.” said McCauley accepting the coffee. “Since Iaconi hasn’t called this morning, we can be pretty sure that no Subway related murder occurred last night. I would like to take some time to discuss the possible motives if you feel so inclined.”

  Jenny was beaming. This was really her first time to sit down with the Professor and discuss a case as a peer. Her first day was too busy and she hadn’t had the strength to work on the case yesterday.

  “Professor, can I ask you to explain what you said about the Rabbi being an instrument?” asked Jenny. “I mean, I know that you’re implying that he’s working for someone else, but who? How do you know that?”

  McCauley smiled as he looked over at Jenny. She really didn’t let anything slip by. He knew that he had been harsh when he snapped back at her in the middle of the night but here she was today, standing right in front of him, ready to take another blow just to get information on the case.

  “This Jenny Smith,” he thought to himself, “is really quite a girl.”

  But before he could answer her, the telephone rang.

  Boston Public Library, Boston, MA

  McCauley was fidgeting with anticipation as Jenny pulled into the parking lot of the Boston Public Library. His cheery demeanor had vanished as soon as he received the phone call and the ride over to the library was civil, but quiet. McCauley stared silently ahead, sipping his coffee and thinking about how much better it tasted than his.

  Iaconi had just called and told them about an “unrelated” murder stating that it was probably the result of a robbery gone badly in the parking lot of the library last evening.

  The body of Juergen Elsinger had been discovered partially pushed beneath his car and was not spotted until 6:30 a.m. by a library maintenance worker.

  Whenever McCauley worked a case, he insisted that he be informed of every other homicide in the city in time to examine the crime scene. He and he alone would be the sole arbiter as to its relevance to the case at hand. Iaconi learned to follow this rule the hard way.

  This murder did seem unrelated. First of all, it was of a man, not a woman. Secondly, it did not occur anywhere near a Subway entrance. Thirdly, the man’s wallet and jewelry had been taken, so it had the outward appearance of a robbery.

  The only resemblance to the other murders was that it looked like the man had been killed by a single knife wound. Over the phone, McCauley had asked about the size and location of the wound before ordering Iaconi not to touch anything until he arrived. Of course, no explanation was given to the detective at that time.

  McCauley bounded from the car before Jenny had completely come to a stop. He moved quickly to the location of the body and knelt down to study the wound immediately.

  “Good morning Professor,” said Iaconi half jokingly while McCauley worked. “Good morning Jenny.”

  “Good morning Detective,” replied Jenny looking at him with a slight smile.

  Jenny knew that the Professor would simply ignore all of the conversations until he finished investigating the crime scene. That is why she was so shocked by what she heard next.

  “Good morning Detective Iaconi!” said McCauley rising quickly to his feet. “How are you this fine morning?”

  Iaconi and Jenny glanced quickly at each other before turning back to the Professor.

  “I’m fine… Professor.” said Iaconi a bit stunned. “Did you find something?” he asked.

  “Yes, indeed Detective. Yes indeed.” said McCauley as he wheeled about and headed quickly back to the car. “I want you to treat this as one of our victims and have a full autopsy delivered by tomorrow morning.”

  Iaconi knew that would take some pushing, but it could be done.

  “Smith and I will go for a late breakfast now and meet you at the Commissioner’s office where you will need to bring us a complete dossier on this victim by 11 a.m.” said McCauley.

  Iaconi frowned as he knew he’d have to hustle to ID and document the victim for an 11 o’clock meeting.

  “And don’t look so glum Detective;” said McCauley entering the car, “we finally have our first lead in this case!”

  Harbor Hotel, Boston, MA

  The crowd in the ballroom at the Boston Harbor Hotel was dignified and subdued this morning. Local media, financiers, investors, and private individuals were all here to hear the past quart
erly financial results of A.G. Bhermann, a multinational conglomerate, as well as get some indication of the company’s financial prospects going forward.

  They didn’t expect anything different than the stellar performance of the past 37 consecutive quarters, but most were more than curious to see and hear from the “old man” directly. Dr. Alfred Scheiter had become quite a recluse as of late and rumors continually circulated in financial circles about his failing health and imminent death.

  Although a strong management transition team had been put in place for just such an event, every investor knew that the future prospects for A.G. Bhermann sat squarely on the shoulders of its founder and Chairman.

  As the lead speaker and VP of Communications, Gretchen Waterman went through the details of the agenda and gave a brief overview of this quarter’s accomplishments. Anticipation grew into a frenzy, as the crowd began to sense the presence of the “old man.”

  The room buzzed with excitement as Waterman rapped up her speech with “…and with that let me introduce the man who has made this all possible for these many years, our Chairman and CEO, Dr. Alfred Scheiter!”

  With that the room erupted in applause and Scheiter emerged from behind a curtain and walked toward the podium. He was impeccably dressed in a dark blue suit and smiling and waving to the audience as he bounded up the stairs and approached the microphone.

  The ninety-one year old Scheiter looked more like an Austrian school boy than a man of his 91 years.

  The Commissioner’s Office, Boston, MA

  Commissioner Paul Rouillard had just finished serving coffee and engaging in some chit chat with Jenny and the Professor when Detective Iaconi entered the office. Iaconi looked flustered and rushed about as he handed out copies of the victim’s biography to the three seated attendees.

  “We’ve been able to determine that the victim’s name is Juergen Elsinger and he lives in Sudbury, a small, affluent suburb west of Boston. Evidently, his partner said that he had not spoken with Juergen since breakfast that morning and he was unsure why Juergen would have been in Boston last evening.”

  “The partner is a lawyer in Wayland and had been out at a dinner party last night so he did not know Juergen’s whereabouts until he received word from us this morning.”

  “He didn’t think it suspicious that his partner didn’t show up all night?” asked Jenny as the Professor smiled.

  “No, not really.” said Iaconi. “He said that Elsinger’s work had him out at all hours of the day and night and sometimes even involved unplanned overnight stays. He just assumed that he would see Juergen later today at dinner.”

  “We don’t suspect the partner,” added Iaconi, “he was pretty broken up when we spoke with him and has a solid alibi for the time of death last night.”

  The room turned silent as all three thought about Iaconi’s words and studied the details of Juergen Elsinger’s life in the report provided.

  “He worked at A.G. Bhermann?” said Stuart McCauley thinking out loud.

  “Yeah, he’s been there 17 years.” said Iaconi. “He’s a Vice President of Strategic Resources… whatever that is. He works out of Bhermann’s facility in Connecticut.”

  That last statement triggered a response.

  “Then, this is the second Bhermann Connecticut employee who has died in the past week.” said McCauley. “The fact that this one was most likely killed by the “Slasher” cannot be random or coincidence.”

  “Who else are you referring to Stuart?” asked Commission Rouillard.

  “An employee of A.G. Bhermann’s RS1 facility named Alan Dietris was arrested for DUI earlier in the week but hung himself in his cell before morning. Ordinarily, a suicide for such a minor offense is suspicious on the face of it, but the psychological screening that goes on for employees at the RS1 facility makes that suicide most improbable, if not impossible.”

  “Commissioner,” said McCauley rising to his feet, “Elsinger was killed by our “Slasher” and the Bhermann Corporation lost two employees this week. Since Elsinger’s death is not following the script for the “Subway Slasher” murders,” he continued, “it must mean that today’s murder was borne out of necessity and not opportunity.”

  He stared out the window before turning and saying “Something occurred last evening that required the death of poor Juergen Elsinger with little or no planning.”

  He paced slowly back and forth, deep in thought, while gazing out at the Boston skyline. The silence in the room was shattered when McCauley made his next statement.

  “Our killer is working for, or with, A.G. Bhermann. That I know for certain.”

  “But why… Stuart? What is the reason? What could be the possible motive?” asked Jenny staring at him in disbelief.

  “That, Miss Smith, is what you and I shall find out!”

  Chapter 9

  Buck Hill Road, Easton, CT

  Detective Paul Hendrickson of the Connecticut State Police was waiting outside the A.G. Bhermann RS1 facility when Iaconi, McCauley, and Jenny Smith pulled up at the front door. Hendrickson was an imposing man.

  Standing 6 feet 6 inches tall and a muscular 245 pounds, he looked more like a linebacker than a cop. His blonde hair and Nordic complexion added to his imposing presence.

  The State trooper had jurisdiction over the facility and more than a passing interest in meeting with the famous Professor McCauley. McCauley was legendary with law enforcement officers nationwide and was somewhat of a celebrity in New England.

  Jenny had marveled at the beautiful grounds and park like setting of the Bhermann property as they drove up the private road to the front of the RS1 building.

  Although it had seemed to contain an inordinate amount of security fences and cameras, it was a property as lush and well maintained as any city park that she had ever been in, including the grand ones in New York.

  Bhermann had spared no expense in importing trees, shrubs, plants, and flowers to make this property a showpiece and had prominently featured it in their annual report. It was unimaginable that a facility like this only employed 29 people.

  Detective Hendrickson welcomed the visitors and exchanged pleasantries before entering the facility with them and signing in. The meeting had been all arranged and the visitors were quickly escorted to a large conference room on the first floor where Ferris Allen, building administrator, waited patiently for their arrival.

  “Please drop your coats anywhere and help yourselves to some coffee and pastry,” said Allen, more like he was hosting a tour for a group of foreign dignitaries than a criminal investigation.

  “We’d like to discuss Juergen Elsinger and his role at this facility,” said Detective Iaconi not wanting to waste much time.

  “Certainly,” said Allen, “that mugging last night has us all in shock today. Juergen was a dedicated and hard working employee and a really nice guy. It’s such a shame that violent act like that had to happen to him. I don’t think he had a mean bone in his body.”

  “What did he do here?” asked Jenny.

  “He was a Vice President of Strategic Resources which meant that he worked on developing partnerships with other companies.” said Allen attentively from his chair.

  “A company like Bhermann is always working with other companies worldwide to obtain resources and Juergen served as our main corporate liaison. He had a staff of about 20 people in his department. They all work out of our New Jersey headquarters. He traveled quite a bit to New Jersey, and even more internationally, but was based out of this facility. He reported directly to Dr. Scheiter as a member of his executive staff.”

  “Has Dr. Scheiter been informed?” asked McCauley quickly but nonchalantly.

  “Why yes… I called his assistant this morning and informed her as soon as we found out.” replied Allen with a curious look. “I spoke with the Doctor directly a little later in the morning.”

  “Then he will not be surprised when we call on him later today.” said McCauley staring out of the conference roo
m window at the small pond nearby.

  You could have heard a pin drop. Jenny and Detective Hendrickson both glanced at McCauley, but Iaconi was staring at him with his mouth wide open. He did not look forward to asking Commissioner Rouillard to arrange for that meeting.

  “Sure, he wants to go interview the richest man in the world about a murder investigation,” thought Iaconi, “why doesn’t he just ask me to resign, it would be quicker and less painful.”

  “And where is Mr. Stockmann today,” asked McCauley rather abruptly, “surely the murder of a high ranking employee should garner the attention of your Chief of Security?”