Sleight of Hand

CHAPTER Twenty-Three

Stephanie Robb came in late because Lily had been acting out in class and she had to meet with her teacher. Robb had read a few books about the effects of divorce on children. She had even spoken to a counselor her attorney had recommended. But she was still upset because her bastard husband had not read these books or talked to a counselor and was using their daughter as a football in the divorce proceedings.

Robb was still steamed when she walked into the detective division in time to see Frank Santoro hang up the phone.

“We have an ID on the John Doe who was found in that field by the river,” Santoro said.

“Who is he?”

“Ernest Brodsky. He has a shop in the River View Mall, and a daughter, Sarah Gelfand. That was Kline. He broke the news to her. She’s coming to the morgue in an hour to make a formal identification. We’ll meet her there and see if we can learn anything.”



Bob Gelfand put his arm around his wife and tried to comfort her. The couple was sitting on a bench outside the room in the morgue where Sarah had just identified her father’s body. Her shoulders convulsed with each sob, and Frank Santoro and Stephanie Robb waited patiently until Sarah was calm enough to answer their questions.

“I’ll try to make this fast, Mrs. Gelfand,” Santoro said. “I know you want to get out of here and back to your children. But I want to catch the person who did this, and right now we don’t have any leads. Any help you can give us will be greatly appreciated.”

Sarah raised her tearstained face toward the detective. “I don’t know how I can help. Dad didn’t have an enemy in the world.”

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful but I have to ask. Did your father have any vices? A gambling problem? Drugs? Was he a drinker? Any problems with women?”

Bob Gelfand laughed. “No one who knew Ernie would ask a question like that. He was a sweet guy. Ernie is . . . was seventy-two, and totally devoted to his grandkids. He was married to the same woman for forty-three years. Martha died two years ago and he was very depressed but he didn’t drink or take antidepressants or anything like that. And as for gambling, not a chance.”

“What about debts? Had he borrowed money from someone, or does he owe money?” the detective asked.

Sarah dabbed at her eyes. “He was having trouble paying the rent on his store. The manager of the mall said he was behind in his rent. The store was locked and he couldn’t get in touch with Dad. That’s why I went over to his apartment.”

“I’m way out in left field with this, but could he have gone to a loan shark for the rent?”

“No way,” Bob said. “Ernie would have gone to a bank. If that didn’t work out, I make a good living. He knows we would have helped him.”

“What about his neighbors? Did he have a beef with any of them?”

“No,” Sarah answered. “I’ve met some of them. They liked Dad, and he never mentioned anything like that.”

Santoro sighed. “I’m going to let you go. I’m real sorry about your dad. He sounds like a great guy.”

“He was,” Bob assured Santoro.

Santoro and Robb walked the couple to the front door.

“What do you think?” Robb asked her partner when they were alone.

“If Brodsky was as saintly as they pictured him, this case is going to grow cold fast,” Santoro said. “With the missing wallet it looks like a robbery.”

“Yeah, probably,” Robb agreed. “The only thing that bothers me is where we found the body. A mugger is going to grab the wallet and take off. That field was a long way from the River View Mall and Brodsky’s apartment. He wasn’t killed there, so the killer had to drive him to the spot, then risk being seen while he was dumping the body.”

“That’s a good point. Let’s head for the mall and see if we can learn anything.”



The River View Mall, an open-air complex of shops and restaurants, was a twenty-minute drive from the morgue. Stuart Lang, who managed the mall, was short, balding, and overweight. He was pacing in front of Mr. Brodsky’s store and glancing at his watch when Robb and Santoro drove up.

“This is terrible,” Lang said as soon as the introductions were completed. “We’ve never had a tenant murdered.”

“Can you think of anyone who might have done this or any reason for Mr. Brodsky meeting with violence?” Santoro asked.

“No. He was a real gentleman, a very nice guy.”

“I understand he was having trouble paying his rent,” Robb said.

“That’s true. I felt bad about it. I bent over backward to accommodate him because he’s been a tenant for so long. The mall is owned by a Chicago company, and he was here when they took over, long before I started as manager.”

“Were you going to evict him?” Robb asked.

Lang shook his head sadly. The concern seemed genuine. “I was very close to asking him to leave. We were trying to work things out, but his business was very slow. Ernie’s wife died a few years ago and he closed the shop for a while. I guess some of his good customers went elsewhere and he was never able to get the business back on track.”

“Can you let us in?” Robb asked. “There might be something inside that will help us.”

Santoro handed Lang a copy of the search warrant they had procured earlier in the day. It also asked for surveillance tapes of the area around the shop.

“I’ve got the tapes in my office,” Lang said as he unlocked the door. “You can pick them up before you leave.”

“Thanks,” Santoro said.

“There’s one other thing,” Lang said. “Mr. Brodsky’s car was towed from the lot a few days ago. The security guard noticed it on his rounds on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday after Mr. Brodsky disappeared. He’s supposed to run the plate and try to notify the owner when a car is abandoned, but the guard is new and he was confused about the procedure. I called Mrs. Gelfand to give her my condolences after you called to tell me that the body had been identified and she mentioned that her father’s car was missing. She wanted to know if it was in the lot. I checked with our security office and eventually figured out what happened.”

“So he never drove away from the mall on Tuesday night?”

“Apparently not.”

Lang returned to his office. Robb and Santoro spent an hour going through Brodsky’s books and papers, but they came up blank.

“That was a waste of time,” Robb said.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky with the tapes,” Santoro answered.

“We’re going to need a break to solve this case,” Robb said. “It has random robbery written all over it.”

“You’re probably right. What possible motive other than robbery could someone have for killing an elderly locksmith?”