Secret Radio Murders - Chapter 16

The chinos and navy jacket with the open collar white dress shirt made a rather nondescript figure out of the short blond Dick-two. Mike Tamanio entered Hal Goodwin’s place of employment a few minutes after he noted Goodwin’s exit for lunch. 1

Requesting the store manager, he was escorted by another clerk to a rear office neatly hidden by shelves of stacked merchandise. Using a phony business card embossed with a logo from a national bank, a quick handshake accompanied by an exchange of names and Tominio’s swift palming with the phony ID, and the two men settled down to talk.2

“We would appreciate your using some discretion in disclosing this conversation. It is our bank’s responsibility to provided certain funding through Government secured loans. Mr. Goodwin is seeking to purchase a condo on the Upper East Side. So we are required to do some background checks.”3

“No problem.” The young man behind the big desk didn’t look old enough to the detective to manage a playground. Still, the habit of promoting low-level management within nationwide companies for the financial benefits was well established. “Hal’s been with us for four years,” the manager said. “Always been dependable. Gives his best to the company,” sounded like rhetoric. 4

Tomanio guessed the fellow was probably Hal’s drinking buddy. The next spiel that followed his question, “I understand Mr. Goodwin is in a stable relationship with a young lady?” convinced him.5

“Oh yes, Hal and Michelle have been together probably a year or better.” Loyalty was a good thing, Tomanio thought, but when you infused it with obvious lies you looked stupider than you were. Hal’s boss had to know Michelle was dead. If by no other means, Goodwin would have told him. Still, Tomanio played the liar’s game, which had become their joint endeaver.6

Although the manager agreed not to mention the visit to Goodwin, Tomanio knew damn well it was just another lie. The fellow would have Goodwin in his office the minute he stepped back in the store. Just as well, it would make Michelle’s boyfriend nervous, since it would occur to him he was being investigated and it wasn’t any bank.7

Tomanio vacated the store and causally walked into the deli were Goodwin was finishing up by paying his check and flirting with the waitress at the register. 8

He ordered a ham and Swiss on rye with potato wedges and a coffee to go. He carried his lunch back to his car. Taking a bite of the sandwich and sip of coffee to wash it down he dialed Detective Sergeant Brad Benson’s cell number.9

“Sarge, a couple things on Goodwin,” he said when Benson acknowledged the call. “His boss isn’t more than a year or two older. He’s one of his card-playing buddies. If I was in the top management of their company I’d keep my eye on the store manger—honesty is not an important trait to him.” 10

“What makes you think that?”11

“Guy started out with the usual bull. The printed responses that protect the company. Of course since they’re normally just written on a form they’re easy to carry off. When you have to put voice to them, they almost make you both laugh.12

“Then I brought up Goodwin’s personal relationships—Hal, my boy, according to his boss, apparently is going to marry our corpse.” Tamanio gave a gross sneer. “He also loves his mama and helps little old ladies across Broadway.”13

“So you may have blown your cover for nothing?”14

“Not really. Goodwin hasn’t made me. He’s going to be nervous, after his buddy tells him about my visit. Nervous guy’s make mistakes.”15

“Right. You get a picture of the manager?”16

“I’m an expert with a cell phone. I already sent it on so the other men can have it when they take over. And I borrowed a pen so Goodwin’s boss will be processed and found if he’s in the system.”17

“Anything else?”18

“Don’t know if it means anything, but Goodwin took the two weeks before the murder off. He had vacation time coming and told his boss he wanted to visit his family in Virginia. Gather he hadn’t been home in a few years.”19

“I’ll have it checked out.”20

Benson spun his chair around and slide it across the floor to reach Farley’s desk. He replaced his cell phone in its waist holder. “Tomanio,” he said, “has given us some work to do.”21

“Really. Like we don’t have enough.” Farley leaned forward “The computer hasn’t come up with any real similarities between the victims except for small builds—none over a hundred twenty. And the Crises Line—but then there are four who never called it or the radio station. Got five runners, but they didn’t run in the same area. Except for two none of the vics lived or worked in the same general area. Three were college girls who had nothing in common with Michelle.”22

“Time you and I started digging deeper into the other women’s personal relationships,” Benson said. “Tamanio picked up some stuff on Goodwin. There's a chance he may have been out of the city when Michelle died.23

“Let’s put Cory on tracing Goodwin’s whereabouts for those two weeks. If we can positively clear him, we can use that manpower elsewhere.” 24

Farley stood and started towards the next room. Then as Benson followed, Farley said, “ Might want to put a trace on Mark Ghiel’s love interest?”25

“You don’t think this could be a woman?”26

“And why not? What would prevent a jealous, maybe psycho, smart lady lawyer from indulging in a bit of murder? While Cory’s at it we’ll have him run Bridgett O’Reilly though the system.” 27


It was a quarter passed four in the afternoon when Bridgett O’Reilly let herself quietly into the Condo. 28

She shushed a yowling Thomas by rushing for the kitchen with the cat following and impatiently rubbing against her navy slacks while she replenished his food and water supply. 29

Bridgett didn’t want to wake a sleeping Mark. She kicked off her heels and carried them into the dressing room. Nights off together were rare and she’d contemplated all day on how they would spend it. 30

Limited by one shower, she decided to make early use of it and be ready when Mark got up. She ran a light warm water flow, to prevent steaming up her hairstyle. Her vibrant curls had a tendency to frizz up when wet.31

Bridget’s slender build, topped by a cherub face cursed with a semicircle of pale tan freckles that skipped across the bridge of a slightly upturned nose, presented a problem. A strong willed, highly intelligent attorney, men just didn’t take her seriously on first contact. So while her ‘Orphan Annie’ appearance belied her thirty-five years, it irritated her sense of equality. 32

Mark Gheil was a unique surprise for Bridgett O’Reilly. She’d been rushing from the courthouse the morning they met. Her attention focused on something else, she shoved the heavy metal door right into his butt sending him to his knees on the platform. And then quickly back to his feet.33

“Son of a bitch! What the hell is your problem Lady!” His cheeks were reddened in anger. There was no silly grin on his growling mouth. His fists were clenched and he appeared ready to slug her.34

“Sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to…”35

“To cripple me? What the hell was your hurry, or do you just naturally shove people around?”36

Bridgett grabbed a packet of tissues from her pocket and still professing her embarrassment offered them up with the excuse. “I didn’t see you.”37

He ignored the offering and dusted at the soiled fabric on his knees with his palms while he barked, “Maybe that’s why the door has windows—you think?”38

“I’ll have your suit cleaned. I’m so sorry. You’re not hurt? I’ll give you legal advice for life—I’m an attorney.”39

He didn’t snicker; say ‘Yeah—right’ instead he grunted, “First bit of advice, how much do I sue you for?”40

“Thomas!” Bridgett stumbled on her long terry robe as the pesky cat pushed open the door into the bedroom. She fell against it and defeated her intentions of not waking Mark too early.41

Not waking him if he’d been there—only the bed was messed-up like she’d left it in the morning but empty. 42