Free St. Patrick's Day Murder by Lee Harris Page B

told her my name and gave her a little summary of why I was there.
    “Harry Donner?” she said. “Sure I knew Harry. We were friends with him and Dottie for years. It was a shame how he died. I don’t think they ever found out who did it.”
    “They didn’t. I’m trying to find people who knew him, relatives.”
    She hesitated, then invited me in. “There weren’t any relatives that I knew of. Dottie died a long time ago, a couple of years before Harry did. Cancer. She was a lovely person. He spent every free minute with her when she was sick. They were really devoted. They never had children.”
    “Brothers? Sisters?”
    She shrugged. “They never talked about them. She couldhave had a sister, now you mention it. I don’t know what her name would be. Or if she’s alive.”
    “Where did they spend their holidays?” I asked.
    “Well, sometimes with us. Or they’d get in their car and go somewhere. They’d visit his aunt sometimes.”
    “He had an aunt?”
    “Well, yes, now that I think about it. He used to talk about her. She had a funny name. Like a man’s name. What was it?” she asked herself.
    I sat waiting and hoping. “Aunt Jo?” I suggested.
    “No, nothing like that.”
    I tried to think of other names. Lou seemed too much like Jo to suggest. Danny for Danielle? Gabe for Gabrielle? I watched the furrowed face, the set lips. She was trying hard.
    “Who’s that comedian who died a long time ago?” she said.
    “I don’t know,” I said helplessly. If it was a long time ago, how could I know?
    “He was on radio. You know.”
    “Fred Allen?” I ventured. Aunt Margaret used to talk about Fred Allen sometimes.
    “The other one. Jack Benny!” she said triumphantly. “Aunt Benny. That was her name. Harry always used to talk about his aunt Benny. I don’t think she could be alive anymore, do you? Harry would be about sixty now, I think. How many people have aunts when they’re sixty?”
    It was a long shot and I didn’t know how to find someone whose last name I didn’t know. “Did she live around here?”
    “No. They always took the car to see her. And Harry would bring her things, you know? She was probably old and poor and needed Harry to take care of her.”
    Then he would have left her at least part of his money. I thanked the woman and went back to my car. It was time to get Arnold Gold to help.
    “I remember that shooting,” Arnold said over the phone. He had called me back at the pay phone I had found and he was taking notes. “The case is still open.”
    “I’m looking for a link between that one and the McVeighshooting. Jack doesn’t think Ray Hansen did it and I agree there’s a good chance he didn’t.”
    “I think I’ll nominate you for the saint of lost causes,” Arnold said.
    “I learned from you. And anyway, the post is filled, Arnold. St. Jude has it.”
    “The Catholic church thinks of everything.”
    “Someone has to.”
    Arnold promised to have one of his paralegals track down the Donner will. I hoped it wouldn’t be too much work. Arnold never lets me pay for work that his office does for me, although I’ve offered to pay by putting in hours. He told me the Thirteenth Amendment prohibits indentured servants, but to me it just sounded like a simple case of bartering.
    Since I was in Queens, I decided to drop in on Jean McVeigh. I didn’t really want to drop in on her unannounced, but I was out of change and it’s hard to come by in New York. So I drove over and rang the bell.
    “Oh, Chris, I’m glad you’re here,” Jean said when she saw me. She looked bedraggled and her eyes were red. “Come on in. I’m doing something I don’t want to do and you’re a good excuse to stop.”
    “I know I should have called first, but—”
    “It doesn’t matter. Just make yourself comfortable. Want some coffee?”
    “Only if you do.”
    “I should really cut down.” She dropped into a chair in the living room. “I’ve been going through Scotty’s