La Danza Morte' by Robert F. Clifton (e reader txt) 📖

ham and cheese sandwiches from those that had been wrapped and placed for sale as they moved along the serving line. “Now, as I recall you wanted to know if 500 mg. of Lanoxin along with the fact that she had Athletic heart syndrome could be the cause of the victims death. The answer is yes. However, allow me to explain. Athletic heart is actually the result of dynamic physical activity. When I say dynamic, I'm talking about someone doing aerobic training or exercise more than five hours a week. You see, during those exercises or in the victims case, practice, the heart has to pump more blood through the body to counteract the oxygen being depleted in the muscles of the body. Overtime, the body will increase the size of the left ventricle and the muscle mass and thickness of the heart. What happens next is that with a larger, left ventricle the heart rate can decrease and still maintain a level of cardiac output or beats, necessary for the body. Therefore, it is very common for athletes with Athletic heart syndrome to have lower heart rates then non-athletes.”, said Doctor Edwards as he reached for his drink.

“Alright, I understand what you have just told me, but what I really want to know is, once again the effect the Lanoxin had on her. Did it kill her?, “asked Wallace.

Edwards looked at the young detective as he chewed on a bite of sandwich. He swallowed and said, “I just told you that the increased size of the ventricle will cause a decrease in the heart rate. Lanoxin is used to adjust the rhythm of the heart rate, or to slow it. Your ballerina had been prescribed 0.20 mg. Now, let's assume she took her medication yesterday. Then, add 500mg. more. Then combine that with physical exertion as she danced, leaped and twirled. The result? Heart failure. Her heart slowed, then stopped. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes, it sure does”, Wallace answered.

“Good, now what are you going to do next?”, asked Doctor Edwards

“Finish my lunch and then go back to headquarters and write my reports.”

“Are you from around here?” asked Edwards

“Yep, born and raised here. Why?”

“Do you like to fish?”

“If you're a boy growing up in Nautilus Beach there are some things that are certain. First, you learn how to body surf in the ocean. Then, you learn how to swim in the back bay. Finally, you know how to fish and where.”

“I love to fish. I'm originally from Wilmington. Delaware, so did most of my fishing in Delaware Bay. Since I've been here I've had to use the charter boats in order to fish. Although it's fishing, it's not the kind I like to do. I enjoy being either alone or with one or two people, instead of a boat load of beer drinkers and loud mouths.”

“Have you tried fishing off of the rock jetty's?”, asked Wallace.

“No. Is the fishing good there?”

“Catching fish is guaranteed, but it all depends if you want to keep them.”

“Why, what kind are they?'

“We call them, slippery bass. They're also called, black bass, and Tautog. They hit hard and give you a nice fight. The problem is if you want to eat them they're supposed to be skinned and most people consider that to be a pain in the ass. So, we toss them back. Once in a while you might get a nice sea bass.”

“What do you use for bait?”, asked Edwards.

“Sand fleas.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Tell you what, if you're interested give me a call some day and I'll go with you.”

“Do I need any special tackle?”

“It's best to use a bamboo cane pole. You can pick one up at any hardware store here in town. I use old spark plugs for sinkers. That way if you get snagged and you will, you haven't lost anything. I have enough so I'll give you some to use.”

“Sounds good. What's your first name again?”

“Robert, Robert Wallace.”

Later, back at headquarters Robert Wallace sat typing reports pertaining to his part so far in the investigation. He started with what he had found in the ballerina's dressing room, mentioning the broken glass shard, the frosted glass and the container of Lanoxin tablets. He stopped typing, then got up from the chair and went to where his coat was hung on the clothes tree. He removed the torn handbill from the inside pocket and returned to his desk and sat down again.

After placing the two, torn sheets of paper together he was able to see most of the photo's and print on the circular. Gazing

first at the photograph of Gabriela Brunsdorff and then at the photo of Natasha Dubcek, he noticed that behind the white, powder makeup on the face of the ballerina, Brunsdorff was the visible on set of aging. He read again the print and wrote down,

Anthony Rogers, Rogers Productions, 1800 Boardwalk, Nautilus Beach, New Jersey, Telephone, 609-443-8443. Wallace reached for the telephone on his desk and dialed the number. After three rings a woman answered by saying, “Rogers Productions, how may I help you?”

“This is Detective Robert Wallace. I'd like to speak to Mr. Rogers.”.

“I'm sorry sir, but Mr. Rogers is in conference at the moment. May I take a message?”

“Yes you can. Tell Mr. Rogers that I called. I want to speak to him about the death of Gabriela Brunsdorff. You can also tell him we can either talk in his office, or mine, It's up to him.”

“Yes sir. Is there anything else?”

“Yes tell him I go off duty at four o'clock and that I expect to hear from him before that time.”

“Do you have a number where he can reach you sir?'

“Yes, Nautilus Beach Police Department, Major Crime Squad. Ask for Detective Robert Wallace.”

After hanging up the receiver Wallace continued looking at the flyer concentrating on the thumb nail photo of Natasha Dubcek, the ballerina's understudy. He picked up a pen and wrote her name on a list of person's he wanted to talk with.

An hour later the office telephone rang. “Major Crime Squad. Detective Wallace', he said.

“This is Anthony Rogers. I was told to call you.'

“Yes, thanks for returning my call. I'll get right to the point sir. I'd like to sit down with you and go over a few things in relation to Gabriela Bunsdorff.”

“What kind of things?”

“For instance who her agent or manger was. Her contract with you. At the same time I'd like any information you might have on the understudy, Natasha Dubcek and if you know it, the name of her agent.”

“Why are the police interested in my contract with Miss Brunsdorff?”, asked Rogers.

“If you don't mind, I'd like to answer that question in person, not on the telephone,” Wallace answered.

“Very Well. Give me a moment to look over my schedule for tomorrow. At the same time I'll confer with my secretary. I'll put you on hold.” As Wallace waited he listened to the sound of Rhapsody In Blue being piped into his receiver. Then, it stopped. “Detective Wallace?”

“Yes,” Wallace answered.

“I'm free tomorrow morning between nine and ten am.

Is that good for you?”

“Yes sir and I assume you mean to meet in your office,” asked Wallace.

“If it's not a problem.”

“No sir. I'll see you then.”

Rogers didn't say good by. He just hung up the receiver on his end. All Wallace heard was a loud, click!

Placing the receiver back on the cradle Wallace again picked up the handbill, but this time concentrated on the picture of Natasha Dubcek. For some reason he wanted to look at the photo. Her dark eyes appeared to look back at him. Her hair, dark in the photo was short in what he guessed was either a page boy or pixie cut. “What the hell do I know about women's hair styles?”, he asked himself mentally. He got up,, then picked up the flier and carried it to the printer. After running off three copies he took them back to his desk. Two copies he placed in the file. With the other copy he took a pair of scissors and cut out the thumb nail photo of the understudy, then placed it in his wallet.

At four thirty pm. Wallace rode the elevator to the condominium sixth floor. He got off and walked to the front door of his unit, unlocked the door and entered. He stopped to glance at the small batch of mail his housekeeper had placed on his desk. Setting aside the electric, water and telephone bills he then tossed the non-essential and unimportant mail in the wastepaper basket. He then headed for the kitchen where he stood in front of the freezer trying to decide just which frozen meal he would heat in the microwave oven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

Anthony Rogers

At eight fifty five in the morning Detective Robert Wallace entered the office of Anthony Rogers Productions. He was met by an attractive young woman to whom he introduced himself. “Oh, yes. Mr. Rogers is expecting you. If you would wait just a moment I'll let him know that you are here,” she said.

“Thank you,” Wallace replied.

Two minutes later Wallace shook hands with Anthony Rogers. As he did he visually examined the man, a man of middle age, probably forty two to forty five years of age. Rogers was tall, but not quite six feet, more like five foot ten. He was slender, well dressed and with just a touch of gray hair at the temples. He could be consider to be a handsome man. Wallace had done his homework and did some research on Anthony Rogers. What he found was the fact that originally Rogers had been a mailman delivering mail to the boardwalk merchants. One such merchant was Abigail Munson, a very rich widow and over a period of time Rogers convinced the widow to marry him. When she did, he quit the post office and entered a world and life of wealth. From that time on he made investments in real estate, stocks and bonds and eventually founded Anthony Roger Productions, a company that dealt with stage plays, musicals, concerts, and indoor sporting events. Just recently he brought in the Baranovsky Ballet Company from New York, starring Gabriela Brunsdorff as the ballerina. “Thank you for taking time to meet with me Mr. Rogers,” said Wallace.

“It's no problem. I assume you want to discuss the death of Gabriela, right?”

“Yes, sir. That and a few other things.'

“What would you like to know?”

“To start with, who was with her, here in Nautilus Beach?”

“I can't say exactly, but I do know that Alan Balak, her agent and manager was here. He and I had a long discussion after she was rushed to the hospital.”

“I see. Anyone else?”

“Natasha Dubcek, Gabriela's understudy and Natasha's agent, Harry Brummel.”

“Is that it?”

“Gabriela's dresser, but I don't know her name.”

“I see, thank you, said Wallace as he wrote the names in his notebook. “Now, I'm afraid I might have to get somewhat personal.”

“What would you like to know?”

“The word around town is that, how shall I put it? The word is that you took a bath financially last evening. They say that the house was only half full. The ballroom where the ballet was staged seats approximately fifteen thousand. Yet, it is said that less then two thousand showed up for the show. Is that correct?”

“Yes it is. What do you know about the ballet, Officer?”

“Not too much.”

“Then consider this. Two thousand patrons attending a ballet is not a financial disaster. As a matter of fact it is a tremendous success. The problem was that the Convention Center Ballroom was available at a reasonable price, but had a seating capacity much too large for the event. Now, as far as me taking a bath financially, I can assure you that I didn't and won't. You see, I took out an insurance policy for this show. The insurance company must pay in the event of any type of interruption, such as labor problems, fire, flood, and or the death or injury of the headliner, in