Free Father's Day Murder by Lee Harris Page A

Kaplan?”
    “Bruce Kaplan, yes, he’s the one who served time for embezzling.”
    “The other one’s a Judy Meyer.”
    “That’s the wife of the violinist. Good. Things are moving.” I read the messages but they just said I should call back. Before I did, I stood at the foot of the stairs and listened. There were no little cries or other sounds fromupstairs so I went to the phone and called Bruce Kaplan first.
    “Miss Bennett, yes, I hear you’re looking into the murder of our friend. How can I help you?”
    For my number one suspect, it was the friendliest overture so far. “I’d like to get together with you and talk to you about Arthur Wien and the rest of your friends who were at the reunion.”
    “Fine. Name your time.”
    I thought for a moment. I was meeting David Koch at noon and we were driving up to the Bronx, not a very long drive from what I remembered of the geography of New York. I thought I would be back in mid-Manhattan no later than two. The Kaplans lived in Westchester County, as I did, not a long drive from either Manhattan or Oakwood. I wasn’t sure what Mrs. Meyer had in mind so I asked if I could get back to him. Then I called the other number.
    “Ms. Bennett,” Mrs. Meyer said, “I know you left a message for my husband but he’s resting. Can I talk to you instead?”
    I told her what I wanted, an interview with him. Tomorrow afternoon was a possibility.
    “I think we can manage that. Two to three?”
    “I’ll be there as close to two as I can make it.” Their address was on the West Side of Manhattan, near Riverside Drive.
    “We’ll be here all afternoon.”
    I got back to Bruce Kaplan and arranged to see him tomorrow evening. That meant that by Sunday night I would have spoken to all but two members of the group, the teacher and the researcher. The researcher worked in Manhattan and I would try to set something up for Monday. AsI was thinking of that, I heard my little one, and I left my investigative persona in the kitchen and went upstairs.
    Having a small child around, I have learned in the last year and a half, is not just time consuming; it’s also mind consuming. Eddie gets into things. He also wants attention, specifically mine. I read to him and we play games together. I have also gotten together with other women in the neighborhood who have children about his age so that the little ones can play while the mothers talk and supervise. The women I’ve met are a very positive addition to my life. They’re bright and thoughtful, they’re involved in town affairs, and they make good conversation. One of them works part-time, one doesn’t work at all, and a third is able to work out of her home on a contract basis, something I do for Arnold Gold, my lawyer friend in New York, when he has the work and I have the time.
    So Eddie gets to hang out at this early age with his contemporaries, and my life is richer and pleasanter because of it. But when we are one on one, my attention is at least ninety percent on him.
    Not that I mind it. I got Eddie ready for the rest of his day and took him down to see his daddy; then we went out. My phone calls could wait till later.
    I suppose Saturday night isn’t the best time to call people but it was the only time I had left. Bernie Reskin, the teacher, was still not answering so I tried Dr. Ernest Greene. He answered the phone himself and I explained who I was.
    “Yes,” he said, “Mort Horowitz said you might call. I’m afraid I don’t have much time, Ms. Bennett. And my wife and I are just going out so I can’t help you right now.”
    “I’d be glad to see you at your home or at your office,” I said, “whatever is convenient for you.”
    “I wish you’d just cross my name off your list. I don’t know anything. I’ve known Artie Wien all my life, but he wasn’t a special friend of mine and there’s not a lot more I can say about him.”
    “If you could just spare a—”
    “I’m very sorry. And I’ve got to