Getting Old Can Kill You: A Mystery Read online

  Praise for

  THE GLADDY GOLD MYSTERIES

  “This is one sassy and smart series with a colorful gang of senior sleuths.”

  —Mystery Scene

  “Beyond the skillful blend of Yiddish humor, affectionate characters and serious undercurrents … picks up speed and flavor with some twists worthy of Agatha Christie’s archetypal dame detective, Miss Marple.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “What gives the book its warmth is the way Lakin has turned this group of friends into a family who are there not only for the fun and laughter but also for the heartbreak and tears.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Young and old, Jewish, Protestant, atheist, all will love this tale told with clarity, wit and interesting characters. This is a must-read mystery.”

  —I Love A Mystery

  “An entertaining cozy mystery series with a set of lovable and oddball characters. The mystery has a puzzling plot with twists and turns that will surprise readers.… Retirement takes on a new meaning after spending time with Gladdy and her gladiators!”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Rita Lakin shows a real flair for comic mysteries.… The plotting is expert, but the background color of life among older retired people is wonderful (and sometimes very poignant).”

  —Connecticut Post Forum

  “This is a funny, warm, absolutely delightful tale … a must read.”

  —Mysterious Women

  “An unforgettable romp … Lakin’s characters are zany, her writing is witty and crisp, and anyone who’s ever visited one can attest that her peek at life in a Jewish Florida retirement center is portrayed both accurately and tastefully.”

  —Cleveland Jewish News

  “Wonderful dialogue and a touch of romance enlivens this delightful breeze of a tale.”

  —Kaw Valley Senior Monthly

  “Sassy, funny and smart … Lakin sprinkles humor on every page, but never loses respect for her characters.”

  —New Hampshire Senior Beacon

  “It is a tribute to Lakin’s talent that she is able to mingle comedy and murder successfully.”

  —Dade County Jewish Journal

  “If getting old is this much fun, maybe I won’t mind! Miss Marple, move over.… Rita Lakin’s witty romp through a Florida retirement community is just the thing for what ails you!”

  —PARNELL HALL, author of the Puzzle Lady mysteries

  “So who knew a retirement community could be so dangerous—and so much fun.… Lakin handles her characters with dignity, compassion, and love, while allowing them the full extent of their eccentric personalities.”

  —VICKI LANE, author of Old Wounds

  “A truly original voice. Great fun from start to finish. Plan to stay up late.”

  —SHELDON SIEGEL, New York Times

  bestselling author of The Confession

  BY RITA LAKIN

  Getting Old Can Kill You

  Getting Old Is Très Dangereux

  Getting Old Is a Disaster

  Getting Old Is To Die For

  Getting Old Is Criminal

  Getting Old Is the Best Revenge

  Getting Old Is Murder

  Getting Old Can Kill You is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A Dell Mass Market Original

  Copyright © 2011 by Rita Lakin

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Dell Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  DELL is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

  eISBN: 978-0-440-33842-0

  Cover design: Marietta Anastassatos

  Cover illustration: Hiro Kimura

  www.bantamdell.com

  v3.1

  This book is dedicated to Judy.

  My sister. My friend.

  “What is the secret of your life?” asked Mrs. Browning.… “Tell me, that I may make mine beautiful, too.”

  He replied: “I had a friend.”

  —JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Introduction to Our Characters

  Best Friends

  1 - The Honeymooners

  2 - Meanwhile Back at the Condos

  3 - The Return

  4 - Bill of Divorcement

  5 - Arlene Tells Gladdy

  6 - Detective School

  7 - Friday Night Welcome Party

  8 - Friendship

  9 - The Married Couple

  10 - Where Is Seymour?

  11 - Ida Franz and Associates

  12 - The Pool

  13 - Seymour’s Apartment

  14 - Shopping Spree

  15 - At Rico’s Pad

  16 - Lunch with Morrie

  17 - The Cooking Club

  18 - A Waiting Game

  19 - The Candy Machine Case

  20 - Stakeout

  21 - End of Quiet

  22 - Morrie Arrives

  23 - The Plot Thickens

  24 - Arlene Reacts

  25 - Evvie Comes Home

  26 - Morrie Brings Bad News

  27 - Morrie and Arlene

  28 - The Roar of the Crowd

  29 - Our Meeting with Morrie

  30 - The Dream Team

  31 - Surprise!

  32 - Visiting Hours

  33 - The Rich Lady

  34 - Back to the Kitchen

  35 - The Business Manager

  36 - Where There’s A Will

  37 - Morrie Listens

  38 - You Ought to Be in Pictures

  39 - Chasing the Facts

  40 - Tomorrow

  41 - A Wonderful Day

  42 - Seymour

  43 - A Star Is Born

  44 - Graduation Day

  Acknowledgments

  Introduction

  to Our Characters

  GLADDY AND HER GLADIATORS

  Gladys (Gladdy) Gold, 75 Our heroine and her funny, adorable, sometimes impossible partners:

  Evelyn (Evvie) Markowitz, 73 Gladdy’s sister. Logical, a regular Sherlock Holmes. Now remarried to Joe

  Ida Franz, 71 Stubborn, mean, great for an in-your-face confrontation

  Bella Fox, 83 The “shadow.” She’s so forgettable, she’s perfect for surveillance but smarter than you think

  Sophie Meyerbeer, 80 Master of disguises, she lives for color coordination

  YENTAS, KIBITZERS, SUFFERERS: THE INHABITANTS OF PHASE TWO

  Hy Binder, 88 A man of a thousand jokes, all of them tasteless

  Lola Binder, 78 His wife, who hasn’t a thought in her head that he hasn’t put there

  Enya Slovak, 84 Survivor of “the camps” but never survived

  Tessie Spankowitz, 56 Chubby, newly married to Sol

  Millie Weiss, 85 Suffering with Alzheimer’s

  Irving Weiss, 86 Suffering because she’s suffering

  Mary Mueller, 60 Neighbor whose husband left her; nurse

  Joe Markowitz, 75 Evvie’s ex-husband, now remarried to her

  ODDBALLS AND FRUITCAKES

  Sol Spankowitz, 79 Now married to Tessie

  THE COP AND THE COP’S POP

  Morgan (Morrie) Langford, 35 Tall, lanky, sweet, and smart

  Jack Langford, 75 Handsome and romantic, Gladdy’s new
husband

  OTHER TENANTS

  Arlene Simon, 80

  Merrill Grant, 77

  Lauderdale Lakes, 1955

  Arlene Steiner feels giddy as she enters the foyer of her tiny third-floor apartment and takes a deep breath. It’s Wednesday, 11 A.M., and here she is getting off early on a weekday—for the first time!

  Thank you, Woolworth’s, for having a busted water pipe and giving all us employees the rest of the day off. The apartment is so wonderfully quiet, and it’s nice to be home all by herself. Feeling daring, she tosses her purse down onto the green Formica and chrome kitchen table. She never does this when her husband’s at home. Edward’s motto is: A place for everything and everything in its place. Not that she minds him being so opinionated about everything. He’s right. They have a small space and clutter would only make it smaller. For a moment she reflects fondly on growing up, how her room was always a mess, but her mom never seemed to mind. Besides, she never had a problem finding her things when she needed them.

  She opens her Kelvinator fridge and pours herself a glass of milk. What shall she do with all these extra hours? Well, there’s always the laundry. But that’s a Saturday job. It can wait. She doesn’t want to waste this gift of free time.

  She could do something special for her darling Edward.

  She smiles at the thought, remembering how he insisted on their first date that she call him Edward. Not Eddie, not Ed, not even Ned. How did she ever land such a drop-dead-handsome guy? Six feet tall, wavy brown hair, sexy blue bedroom eyes, a physique like an athlete. He could have been a movie star.

  If Mamma were only alive, she thinks. It was every Jewish mother’s dream. Her daughter married a doctor—a plastic surgeon, even. Though Arlene never even finished high school, it didn’t matter. Even if once in a while Ed—she corrects herself—Edward, makes her feel, well, not so smart as he is.

  Still sipping her milk, she walks into the living room and glances at herself in the wide gilt mirror hanging over the hi-fi cabinet that Edward picked out. She examines herself critically. Five feet small, petite, fashionably slim. Long blond hair in a pageboy style. Light blue eyes. She wears very high heels to seem taller. Pretty is as pretty does, Mamma used to tell her.

  She switches on the hi-fi and places the needle into the groove of her favorite record. Her body sways to Frank Sinatra singing “Young at Heart.” She hugs herself and dances, singing along. “Fairy tales can come true. It can happen to you …” The song and the way Sinatra sings it bring her to tears; she doesn’t know why, but it makes her feel restless and lonely.

  She’s never been good at making friends, except for Joyce, her very best and only friend since childhood, living on the second floor in the apartment directly below theirs. Joyce was such a good friend that she’d moved in right after the wedding, just to be near Arlene. Arlene doesn’t know what she’d do without Joyce, who is more like a sister than just a friend.

  Joyce is Arlene’s opposite—dark, very curly hair; velvety brown eyes. Kind of a cuddly body. It was fun when they used to go out together. Guys would be attracted to either “the skinny blonde” or “the buxom brunette.” Arlene was sure Joyce would be the one to get married first, but Arlene turned out to be the lucky one.

  Arlene suddenly gets a great idea. She’ll call Joyce at work and maybe they can have lunch together. They’ve never been able to do that. The telephone company where Joyce works is too far away from Woolworth’s—especially since she is only allowed a half hour off. What a treat this could be! But then she remembers that Joyce has a dentist’s appointment at lunchtime today. Oh, well.

  Arlene pouts for a moment. It hasn’t been easy for the friends to get together. Early on she invited Arlene up for dinners but Edward has never made her feel comfortable and Joyce says she won’t go places where she isn’t welcome. Maybe when Joyce gets married, it will be different. They’ll be two couples, then, and Edward would have another man to talk to while the women gabbed. Won’t that be fun?

  She sits down on the couch and picks up the book that she left on the kidney-shaped coffee table—Marjorie Morningstar, a new bestseller. She can really identify with the story of a young Jewish girl who falls in love with a handsome, talented guy. She settles back against the cushions and tries to read, but once she realizes she’s read the same two lines over again, she gives up, unable to concentrate.

  What to do? What to do? How about making Edward’s favorite dessert tonight? A romantic evening. That’s what they need. He’s been distracted recently—working late hours. Candles and wine and his favorite key lime pie after a hearty dinner, that’s the ticket. Their fifth anniversary is coming up, and Edward promised they could have a belated honeymoon since he couldn’t get away while he was in med school. Now that he has his own practice, maybe he can squeeze it in. Arlene has always wanted to go to Niagara Falls. But he said maybe twice. Not a good sign.

  Tonight she’s determined to change his mind. She’ll wear the nightgown she bought and hid for a special occasion. She giggles. They better travel soon. Because her next big wish is for a baby. Twenty-five years old is getting kind of late for a baby, and once that happens, no more trips, that’s for sure.

  She’s getting excited. Lots to do to get ready.

  In the kitchen she happily checks her supplies. She has enough limes. And plenty of graham crackers to make the pie crust. She’s got the condensed milk and the eggs. Oh, no, she’s out of vanilla. Not a problem. She knows Joyce will have some.

  But wait. She’d better make sure Edward won’t be late tonight and spoil all her dinner plans. He’s made her promise never to interrupt him at his office or at the hospital, but surely he won’t mind when she just needs to ask him this one little thing. It will only take a minute. His nurse can get the answer for her if he’s busy.

  She dials his office and the answering service picks up. Darn it, it must be his lunch break. She asks the operator what time he’ll be back. The operator primly informs her that Dr. Steiner isn’t in today. His office is closed on Wednesdays.

  It takes Arlene a few moments to realize she is still clutching the phone after the operator has disconnected. She puts it down. How could that be?

  Suddenly a series of photos come to mind. An article—was it in Life magazine? Doctors playing golf on Wednesdays. Edward plays golf, that must be it. But she’s certain he plays only on Sundays. He always goes to work on Wednesday. There must be a logical explanation.

  Something’s not right.

  Don’t think about it now. Discuss it tonight. Plan the dinner. Keep busy.

  She ties on the apron that she bought at an Avon house party a few weeks earlier. Suddenly she’s a whirlwind of activity. Pulls out the pots she needs. Lays out the ingredients, all in a row. Removes the steak from the freezer to defrost. Takes the peeler out for the potatoes.

  Suddenly she remembers the vanilla. She grabs her set of keys off the foyer shelf and heads out the door. Useful that she and Joyce have keys to each other’s apartments in case of an emergency.

  Arlene unlocks Joyce’s door and walks into a bad movie. A trail of garments lies on the floor. Red satin high-heel shoes seem to lead the way through the foyer. Followed by silk stockings. A garter belt points toward the living room, where she finds a matching red satin dress with a low-cut bodice casually thrown across an armchair. Dangling garnet earrings tossed on a side table right outside the bedroom door.

  For a brief hopeful moment Arlene thinks that perhaps she’s in the wrong apartment. Joyce doesn’t own sexy stuff like that. Joyce is very neat. She hangs up her clothes.

  She hears sounds from the bedroom. She giggles, quickly putting a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound. Maybe Joyce brought her dentist home with her. Wouldn’t that be nice?

  But as Arlene turns to leave she recognizes her husband’s brown woven Thom McAn Oxford shoes off to one side of the living room. And there are his argyle socks. And his Fruit of the Loom boxer shorts.

  “Is somebo
dy there?” Joyce’s voice calls out.

  For one hysterical second, Arlene is tempted to shout out the comedy line “Nobody here but us chickens,” but it sticks in her throat.

  Then her husband’s voice says, “You’re imagining things,” and he lets out a seductive chuckle that his wife has never heard before.

  “I am not. I could swear I heard a key in the lock.”

  Run, Arlene, run. But she’s rooted to the spot.

  Joyce appears in the living room doorway. And sees Arlene. “Oh, shit! What the hell are you doing here?”

  Time slows down. Arlene takes in the fact that her friend is naked. She hasn’t seen her that way since high school gym class. When did her body get so perfect? Joyce’s been to the beauty parlor and hennaed her hair. And she smells heavily of Shalimar.

  Arlene manages to squeeze out the now-foolish words. “I came to borrow vanilla.”

  Edward appears wearing a T-shirt and a towel wrapped around his waist. There are lipstick stains on his sleeve.

  Why is she bothering with these details? Isn’t her life ending right at this time and in this place? Can’t she see that?

  Edward, frozen, can only reiterate, “Oh, shit!”

  Joyce turns on Edward. “I warned you to break it to her. This wouldn’t be happening.”

  “I told you I’d tell her in my own way and my own time.”

  “Yeah, well, your time just ran out.”

  “What is she doing here?”

  “Damned if I know. She says she came to borrow vanilla.”

  They are behaving as if Arlene isn’t in the room.

  Finally she finds her voice and confronts Edward. It’s an edgy voice. She points at Edward’s shoes and socks. “A place for everything. Everything in its place?”

  He looks at her as if she’s gone mad. Maybe she has.

  Her voice grows stronger. “You think I liked all those years I spent in Woolworth’s Ladies Foundations Department so I could send you through medical school?”