Chapter 5

  An hour and a half later Douglas and Jim were driving their black sedan down the manicured streets of Staten Island. “What was the address again?” Jim asked as he looked at the numbers on the side of the buildings.

  “100.” Douglas responded, also looking at the numbers. “On the right.” He let his partner know. Jim parked in front of a large turn of the century mansion. From the street the two detectives were able looked at the yellow painted wooden house. A manicured lawn lead the way to a wide porch accented with rose bushes. In spite of the clouds and rain that covered the sky, the red roses still appeared bright.

  “This was not the house I was expecting.” Jim said as a small whistle escaped his lips, “Our boy Max must be pretty flush.”

  “Than what was he doing in an apartment in the Bronx?” Douglas pondered out loud.

  They walked up the broad stone steps to the gold accented wooden door, in the middle was a door knocker of a deer's head. Grabbing hold of the antlers Douglas slammed the iron on iron. After a few moments the door was open and a middle aged African American women opened the door. She was dressed in a simple brown dress with a stained white apron.

  “May I help yinz?” Her town was quizzing and her accent was Pittsburgh.

  “Yes Ma'am, My name is Detective Chambers and this is my partner Detective Swinger. Is this the Stillwater residence?” Douglas and Jim both flipped open their leather badge wallets.

  “Yus Sir, this is the Stillwater's.”

  Before the housekeeper could finish her thought a sing-song voice called out, “Who is it, Norma?”

  “It's a couple of detectives Mrs. Stillwater.” Norma, the housekeeper, called over her shoulder.

  “Well by all mean let them in!” The sing-song cried out, becoming visible on the staircase for the first time. The voice was associated with a tall, thin woman wearing a brightly colored, flowing kimono. She walked down the staircase with the grace and elegance of wisteria. “Officers, what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” The woman's skin freshly powdered and ivory in stark contrast to her sky blue eyes.

  “We are here to talk about your husband Mrs. Stillwater. Is there somewhere more private we may be able to speak?” Douglas asked.

  “Please Detective, call me Eloise. Follow me.” She casually walked them into a small parlor before taking a seat on green leather chaise. “Norma, darling, could you bring me a martini. Detectives would you like anything?”

  'A martini this early in the day, who is this women Hedy Lamarr?' Douglas thought, “No thank you Ma'am. We just have a couple questions regarding Maxwell.”

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  “Oh what trouble as my darling husband gotten himself into?” The world darling came out of her mouth in a purr.

  “That is what we are trying to figure out. Could you start by tell us did he come home at all last night?” Douglas took a seat across from Eloise.

  “No. He called me yesterday afternoon and told me that he had just secured a big client for the agency and that he and the men from the office were going out to celebrate. When he didn't come home I figured he had too much to drink and was sleeping at one of their apartments. He had done it before.” Eloise stirred the olive in her martini before taking a sip.

  “You mentioned an agency, what exactly does your husband do for work?” James chimed in, sitting in the chair to the side of Douglas.

  “Max is an ad man for Fellows and Sons, a very good one as well. Do you remember the Macy's ad that ran in the paper last year for Christmas? That was his.”

  “Do you know of your husband spending any time in the Bronx or of any friends or family he has that live out there?”

  “The Bronx? Oh heavens no, not as far as I know. None of out families live in the City and all of our friends either live here on the island or in Midtown.” She was a still sipping gently at her martini after each answer to their questions. “What is actually happening with my husband? Is he okay?”

  “Mrs. Stillwater, I will answer your question in just one moment. I have one last question for you does the name Grace Fletcher mean anything to you?”

  Eloise's face became awash with concentration before answering, “No, I do not believe I know anyone with that name. Should I?” She slowly drank the last dregs of her drink as she made eye contact with Douglas over the rim of the glass.

  “No necessarily Ma'am. In regards to your husband, he is currently being held at the twenty-third precinct in the Bronx. He is chief suspect in the murder of a young women named Grace Fletcher.”

  The stem of the martini glass slipped out from her hand, falling down to the ground the glass shattered. Flecks of glass, still coated in the residue of gin washed in waves across the dark hardwood floors. Eloise Stillwater's eyes began pouring out tears as she began to breakdown. “Murder? No, no, no! You must be wrong, my Max would never hurt anyone! You are liars! Framing my husband instead of finding the real murderer! Get out! Get out! GET OUT!”

  Eloise's tears ended as he face began flush with anger as she began waving her hands for Douglas and Jim to leave. Norma came running into the room again. “Youse all best leave now, Mrs. Stillwater is not seeing any more visitors today. Now now, calm down Miss. You know what the doctor said about you getting worked up.”

  Douglas and Jim walked themselves out back the way they had came, out on the porch Jim turned to Douglas. “She was a loon and a half, if I had a old women like that I would go finding tail elsewhere too. Maybe our Maxwell is smarter than I gave him credit for.”

  “I don't know Jim, I want to believe we have an easy open and shut here but my gut is telling me there is more to this story. Let's head back and see if Maxwell is more willing to talk, maybe check out Fellows and Son's on the way back. See what those ad men know about Maxwell."