CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Nov 27, 2001
The blonde in the dark curly wig drove up to the large house, her makeup blending in with her disguise. She had to be careful. Her brother-in-law was suspicious so she had to put on an act. Too bad, she had to use onions to simulate tears. Stephen had a good sense of smell.
Years of practice had resulted in her being successful, but this was a different matter. For some reason, Stephen Cleomedes, stuck in that damn wheelchair of his, had time enough to study and observe. But this time, she would fool him. This time, she had perfected her art, even down to changing her accent, and a few artful touches of makeup. If Cleomedes recognized her, it would be a miracle. After walking to the door, she rung the bell, waited for half an hour, and when no one came, took a key from her handbag.
"Mr. Cleomedes," she called, "Anyone there?" She took a quick look around and nodded. They must have gone on holiday; perhaps he was visiting his relatives in Athens. Sure that was it, but that was not correct.
Someone had removed every stick of furniture, even down to the stove and the built in dishwasher. She checked the bedrooms, Cleomedes's and that of his help. Even the children's dolls and toys were gone.
He must have put his house on the market. That was it! The Real Estate Agency had not brought over the For Sale Sign yet. She had to fool the agents, make believe that she was there to help him with his shots. Opening her purse, she checked her small compact mirror to see if she had the right amount of concern and desperation on her face.
Shrugging her shoulder, Miss Eva Winkler walked to the telephone, tried it but found it disconnected. She went out the front, looking the door behind her after wiping off her fingerprints, went back to her car, and waited.
Twenty minutes later, she heard another car pull up and a woman getting out and trudge through the snow struggling with three fold-up chairs , saying, "Hello I didn't know if anyone was here."
"Yes," said Eva, "I'm Mrs. Hall. I came looking for a Mr. Cleomedes, Stephen Cleomedes."
"Judith Meister of Meister Realty and this is my client, Joseph Virgil. I hope you don't mind, but Mr. Cleomedes put this house on the market," she said, leaving the chairs at the door and with her client's help, going back to take out a small table, which they placed besides the door.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Hall," said Mr. Virgil, who had sharp features, was in either his thirties or forties, and by the look of his face, had survived a bout of smallpox.
"Do you know where he's moving to?" Eva asked the agent.
"I think to Delaware. I can give you the address, if you'd like."
"Thank you," said Eva getting out her notebook. She looked at the place with greedy confidence. "I always had a soft spot in my heart for Stephen. I met him last week at the clinic. He was so kind, after me telling of my husband's death. He had diabetes as well, by the way."
She walked towards the house, noting the well-kept garden, and the brick patio. Stephen had a way with growing things.
"Are you interested in buying?"
"I am," she answered as she removed the key from her purse. "Oh you don't have to bother with yours, Stephen gave me the key."
She opened the door, striding ahead of Miss Meister who praised the recently renovated bathroom, the finished basement; all things that would bring a better price. The table and chairs now set up. Several brochures about other houses, a map of the local area, a letter from the local Welcome Wagon plus a three ring binder with the name Meister Reality on the cover in gold print were placed prominently so everyone could see. They then looked at several photographs, one especially showing a wall where once the bathroom had been..
"Since the former owner was an invalid and has moved, we assumed that they were making it more for a family dwelling."
"Oh that's all right, the bathroom's down in the basement," said Eva, "not up here. Stephen told me it won't be ready for at least a month. They have to put in the hand rails and the transfer bench for the bathtub."
"That's all I need to know," said the real estate agent, "Mrs Demetrius Cleomedes, alias Eva Winkler, you are under arrest for the murder of your husband."
"That is a farce," said Eva as Malone put the handcuffs on her, "you have no proof."
"Yes we do You entered the house with your own key, a key that you had as wife of Demetrius, Stephen's brother and you mentioned the transfer bench which shows you know that Stephen had help. Most would assume that he would either just lower himself in the water or use a bath bench and they'd call it a bath chair."
"By the way," said Rachel, "we put up that wall. The bathroom's still there. It's the one in the basement that's gone. Cleomedes put one upstairs."
The words coming from Eva's mouth would have made a sailor ashamed as Rachel put on the handcuffs.