concert ringing inside.
“Christine Bennett?” the woman who opened the door asked.
“That’s right. Mrs. Kaplan?”
“Arlene. Come on in. Bruce is waiting for you, ready to tell you tales out of school.”
He was sitting in a room at the back of the house where the view of a beautiful backyard was just dimming in the setting sun. We introduced ourselves and sat down, Arlene Kaplan nearby. She was graying and plump and wore glasses.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” Bruce Kaplan said.“I understand you’re an amateur looking into our friend’s murder.”
“That’s right. Dr. Horowitz’s granddaughter was my student this year and she and her mother called me.”
“What qualifies you to do this kind of thing?”
“A few past successes, I guess. I’m an ex-nun. When I moved into Oakwood after I was released from my vows, I was kind of appointed by the town council to look into a forty-year-old murder to settle a local problem. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but I managed to solve it. Since then, murders have just popped up and people have asked me to help.”
“Sounds like you’ve done OK.”
“I hope I can do as well on this one. It appears to be one of those cases in which the men in the group are the best suspects, but all the ones I’ve spoken to seem very nice, very fond of Mr. Wien, and not at all suspicious.”
“Well, add my name to the list. I’m a great admirer of Artie, we have all his books—we’ve even read them—” he said laughing, “and we were as shocked as everyone else when we heard he’d been killed.”
“Can you think of anyone who might want him dead?”
“Nobody.” He leaned forward in his chair. He had dark hair that was graying and he wore a navy short-sleeved knit shirt with a collar and tan well-creased summer pants. I guessed he hadn’t gained more than ten pounds since he left school. His arms seemed muscular, as though he worked out or did heavy work. “Artie was a nice guy. He had a lot of friends everywhere he went. There are people in Hollywood, people with big names, who were his friends.”
“Did he ever visit you?”
He turned to look at his wife. “When was the last time Artie and Cindy came over?”
“Last year. They were in New York and we invited them out for a weekend. We had a good time, the four of us.”
“Did they sleep over?”
“In our guest room,” Arlene Kaplan said.
“Did you ever visit them at home?”
“We sure did. We were in California a few months ago and we saw them. Artie was a generous man and his wife is charming. They took us out to dinner, and the next morning Artie and Bruce played golf.”
“Did Arthur Wien ever ask you to help him in any way?” I looked at Bruce for an answer.
“What do you mean?”
“Did he ask you for favors? Did he borrow money from you? Did he ask you to make introductions for him?”
“Introductions.” Bruce Kaplan laughed. “He was the one who knew people. Favors, I don’t know. Did I fix him up with a blind date when we were younger? Probably. We all did that. As far as money goes, he had plenty of it, or at least he acted as if he did.”
“What about at the dinner? Was everyone friendly toward him?”
“Well,” Arlene said, “there was the usual musical chairs.”
“What do you mean?”
“Artie and Cindy came last and there was a lot of place changing, I remember.”
“Someone didn’t want to sit next to him?”
“I’m not sure. I think someone wanted to sit next to him and made someone else get up.”
“Do you remember who?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Somebody took pictures. Take a look.”
I made a note to do just that. “What do you know about Fred Beller?” I asked.
“Haven’t seen Fred in at least twenty years,” Bruce said. “He doesn’t like New York and he doesn’t seem to like us very much. Not that he dislikes us. He just seems to get along fine without the group.”
“I had lunch with him
“Christine Bennett?” the woman who opened the door asked.
“That’s right. Mrs. Kaplan?”
“Arlene. Come on in. Bruce is waiting for you, ready to tell you tales out of school.”
He was sitting in a room at the back of the house where the view of a beautiful backyard was just dimming in the setting sun. We introduced ourselves and sat down, Arlene Kaplan nearby. She was graying and plump and wore glasses.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” Bruce Kaplan said.“I understand you’re an amateur looking into our friend’s murder.”
“That’s right. Dr. Horowitz’s granddaughter was my student this year and she and her mother called me.”
“What qualifies you to do this kind of thing?”
“A few past successes, I guess. I’m an ex-nun. When I moved into Oakwood after I was released from my vows, I was kind of appointed by the town council to look into a forty-year-old murder to settle a local problem. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but I managed to solve it. Since then, murders have just popped up and people have asked me to help.”
“Sounds like you’ve done OK.”
“I hope I can do as well on this one. It appears to be one of those cases in which the men in the group are the best suspects, but all the ones I’ve spoken to seem very nice, very fond of Mr. Wien, and not at all suspicious.”
“Well, add my name to the list. I’m a great admirer of Artie, we have all his books—we’ve even read them—” he said laughing, “and we were as shocked as everyone else when we heard he’d been killed.”
“Can you think of anyone who might want him dead?”
“Nobody.” He leaned forward in his chair. He had dark hair that was graying and he wore a navy short-sleeved knit shirt with a collar and tan well-creased summer pants. I guessed he hadn’t gained more than ten pounds since he left school. His arms seemed muscular, as though he worked out or did heavy work. “Artie was a nice guy. He had a lot of friends everywhere he went. There are people in Hollywood, people with big names, who were his friends.”
“Did he ever visit you?”
He turned to look at his wife. “When was the last time Artie and Cindy came over?”
“Last year. They were in New York and we invited them out for a weekend. We had a good time, the four of us.”
“Did they sleep over?”
“In our guest room,” Arlene Kaplan said.
“Did you ever visit them at home?”
“We sure did. We were in California a few months ago and we saw them. Artie was a generous man and his wife is charming. They took us out to dinner, and the next morning Artie and Bruce played golf.”
“Did Arthur Wien ever ask you to help him in any way?” I looked at Bruce for an answer.
“What do you mean?”
“Did he ask you for favors? Did he borrow money from you? Did he ask you to make introductions for him?”
“Introductions.” Bruce Kaplan laughed. “He was the one who knew people. Favors, I don’t know. Did I fix him up with a blind date when we were younger? Probably. We all did that. As far as money goes, he had plenty of it, or at least he acted as if he did.”
“What about at the dinner? Was everyone friendly toward him?”
“Well,” Arlene said, “there was the usual musical chairs.”
“What do you mean?”
“Artie and Cindy came last and there was a lot of place changing, I remember.”
“Someone didn’t want to sit next to him?”
“I’m not sure. I think someone wanted to sit next to him and made someone else get up.”
“Do you remember who?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Somebody took pictures. Take a look.”
I made a note to do just that. “What do you know about Fred Beller?” I asked.
“Haven’t seen Fred in at least twenty years,” Bruce said. “He doesn’t like New York and he doesn’t seem to like us very much. Not that he dislikes us. He just seems to get along fine without the group.”
“I had lunch with him
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