Compulsion

He placed the beginnings of Antoine’s new murder book in a drawer. Changed his mind and laid it next to his computer. “I’ve started surveillance on Tony Mancusi, got three brand-new uniforms who think they like plainclothes. Still no violent crime reports the night the Bentley got boosted and Mr. Heubel had the car washed and detailed the day Sean scraped it, so the chance of finding anything new is sub-nil. I’m putting that at the bottom of the drawer.”

“Any luck getting Ella some media exposure?”

“You know the Times – maybe yes, maybe no. Public Affairs say there should be something on the six o’clock news tonight.”

His phone rang. He listened, wrote something down, clicked off. “That was a message from one of Ella’s allegedly noninvolved cousins, wants to talk to me. He’s close, works at a lamp store on Olympic and Barrington. Maybe the gods are smiling.”

Brilliant Crystal and Lighting was a thousand square feet of glare.

Aaron Hochswelder met us at the door and announced that he owned the place, had sent his employees on a coffee break. He walked us to the rear of his showroom. Heat from scores of chandeliers seared the back of my neck. Blinding light evoked a near-death experience.

Hochswelder was in his sixties but still dark-haired, tall and gaunt with a horse-face and fox-eyes. He wore a green short-sleeved shirt, pleated khakis, spit-shined oxfords.

He said, “Thanks for coming quickly. I could be out of line here but I felt I should talk to you. I still can’t believe what happened to Ella.”

Milo said, “She was your cousin.”

“First cousin. Her father was my father’s older brother. She used to babysit me.” His attention was snagged by an unlit bulb in a Venetian chandelier. He reached up, twisted, brought forth a twinkle. “You have any idea who did it?”

“Not yet. Anything you can tell us would be helpful, sir.”

Aaron Hochswelder chewed his cheek. “I’m not really sure I should be saying this but have you met her son, Tony?”

“We have.”

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“His… personality.”

“He seems to be down on his luck.”

“That assumes he ever had any luck.”

“Tough life?” said Milo.

“Self-imposed.” Hochswelder’s bony forearms tightened. “I don’t want to stir anything up, but…”

“Something about Tony bothers you?”

“It’s hard to talk about family this way but you might want to look at him.”

“As the killer?”

“It’s a painful thought. I’m not saying he’d actually do anything like that…”

“But,” said Milo.

“He might know someone bad? I’m not saying he does. It’s just… this is really tough. I feel like a turncoat.” Hochswelder inhaled through his nose, breathed out through his mouth. “All I’m saying is Tony is the only one I can think of. In the family.”

“Tony told us there wasn’t much family, period.”

“Because he chooses to have nothing to do with anyone.”

“Who’s anyone?”

“Me and my wife and our kids, my brother Len and his wife and their kids. My brother’s a dentist, lives in Palos Verdes. None of the kids are close to Tony. Which, frankly, was okay.”

“Bad influence?”

Hochswelder cracked his knuckles. “I don’t want you to think I’ve got some kind of vendetta against Tony. It’s just… he called me this morning to tell me about his mother. That’s how I found out. First time I’ve heard from him in years. He said he had no energy to call anyone else, I should do it. Shunting responsibility. He also hinted that he wanted me to take care of the funeral. Financially and otherwise.”

“What was his demeanor when he called?”

“Not crying or weeping. More like… off.”

“Off, how?”

“Off in space.”

“Does Tony have a drug history?”

“He did as a kid,” said Hochswelder. “According to my kids. I also think – the family thinks – he might be gay, so there’s all sorts of issues here.”

“Why does the family think that?”

“He never dated any girls we ever heard about, never got married. And sometimes he – he’s not a sissy but he can get – I don’t know how to say it – all of a sudden he’ll do something pansyish, you know? A mannerism? We used to talk about it. How one second Tony would do one of those things – throw his hair, bat his eyelashes. And then bam he’d be just like a normal person.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“That would have to be Thanksgiving four years ago. My brother had a family get-together and Tony showed up with Ella. He looked like he didn’t wash his clothes regularly. Put on quite a bit of weight. Maybe he ate before because he didn’t eat much at Len’s table. He got up before dessert, went to the bathroom, came back announcing he’d called a cab, was going to wait outside. Ella was so embarrassed. We all pretended it never happened, just went on normally with the meal.”

“Any reason he left early?”

“That’s the thing, there was no conflict or anything. Boom, he just gets up and announces. Like he was mad at something, but for the life of me nothing happened to make him mad.”

“Tony have a temper?” said Milo.

Hochswelder scratched a temple. “Not really, I couldn’t say that, no. Just the opposite, he’s always been kind of quiet. No one understands him.”

“Being effeminate and all that.”

“That and just being strange – like getting up before dessert, no warning, and leaving. Like always keeping to himself. His father was like that, too, but Tony Senior would at least go to family gatherings and pretend to be social. Though, frankly, most of the time he’d sit outside and smoke – big smoker, that’s what caused his heart attack. He worked for a milk company, they delivered to the studios and Tony got Tony Junior a job at one of them. Paramount, I think. Basically a janitor job, moving stuff around, but those people pay well, lots of union pressure. Tony Junior would’ve been set up financially but he claimed he hurt his back and quit and since then he’s been doing nothing.”

“Claimed?”

“I’m sure he’s got some pain. We all do.”

“Let’s talk about his drug use.”

“All I know is what the kids said.”

“Your kids?”

“Mine and my brother Len’s. Not that Tony was a big topic of conversation, it just came up. We talk about everything in our family.”

“What did Tony’s cousins say he used?”

“It was never specific. More like Tony was stoned all the time, that’s why he bombed out in school. Which was hard for Ella, I’m sure. Education was important to her.”

“She ever mention being disappointed?”

“Ella wasn’t one to share her feelings. But everyone had a sense Tony was a big disappointment to her. Also, I think he gambles. In fact, I know he does. My boy Arnold saw him at one of the Indian casinos near Palm Springs. Arnold and his family were vacationing and he and Rita – Arnold’s wife – were