Evil in the 1st House by Mitchell Scott Lewis Page B

Hotel after a night of drinking at the White Horse Tavern, died at St. Vincent’s Hospital on West Twelfth Street. St. Vincent’s was closed now, leaving the area without a single full-service hospital. Its buildings were being redesigned as another upper-class residence.
    And in the 1960s, the final surge of creativity to emerge from this incredible neighborhood attracted the likes of Jimi Hendrix, Theloneous Monk, Simon and Garfunkel, Phil Ochs, Dave Von Ronk, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, and Peter, Paul, and Mary…the list was endless. It’s very unlikely that another great musical explosion will ever emerge from the West Village again, he thought. No struggling artist could afford to live there. And the clubs that nurtured them have mostly been priced out of existence. There was so much history here, something ignored by realtors and corporations who could only see the bottom line and not the human value.
    Walking was always one of Lowell’s greatest pleasures. No gadgets, no gimmicks, no car. Just him and his feet, freedom personified. He crossed Seventh Avenue and went down Bank Street, one of the loveliest of all, seemingly untouched by time. Remove the cars and you could easily think you’d awakened in 1880.
    What a strange pair of cases, he thought. A missing woman who, it turns out had good reason to go missing. A sick child, a twin no less. A million dollars in cash and a family reunited whatever the end result.
    And the embezzlement of the retirement money so many people relied on for their old age. That’s cold, he said quietly to himself, very cold. And a marshmallow company, to boot!
    After several hours of meandering, he’d had enough. His mind was clear and he was ready for work once again. A quick text and soon he was heading uptown with Andy.

Chapter Nine
    â€œMrs. Williamson is on line one.”
    He picked up the phone. “Yes, Mrs. Williamson?”
    It was 9:01 a.m. How thoughtful yet eager, Lowell thought. Both good signs.
    â€œI’m ready to meet with Edgar and see what this is all about. I can’t just let one of my boys die. The sooner the better.”
    â€œCertainly. I’ll try to get in touch with him now. When are you free to come?”
    â€œI’ve cleared my schedule for the next few days, so anytime you can arrange it from today through next week would be fine. I could even be there in an hour if you wanted. I’m in Westchester visiting a friend. She has a son about Kevin’s age so we’re staying here for a few days. I had to get out of the apartment. And they’ve got a pool, which is just great for Kevin.”
    â€œOkay, I’ll let you know.” They hung up.
    Lowell buzzed Sarah. “Get me Dr. Williamson. If he doesn’t answer, leave a message that I’ve found his wife and son.”
    A few moments later Sarah buzzed. “Dr. Williamson on line one.”
    Lowell picked up the phone. “Dr. Williamson, I’ve located your wife. She would like me to arrange a meeting with you in my office.”
    â€œThat’s very good news, Mr. Lowell. When can we set this up?”
    â€œShe would like it to be as soon as possible.”
    â€œAs would I.”
    â€œAre you free today?”
    â€œYes, of course,” said Williamson, “I can be at your office at noon, if that works.”
    â€œI’ll arrange it and have my assistant Sarah confirm it with you.”
    Lowell sent Andy to pick up Gloria. She arrived at about 11:45 and sat in a client’s chair in Lowell’s office staring out the window.
    â€œCan I get you something? Coffee, or perhaps something stronger?”
    She turned toward him, a faraway look in her eyes and shrugged. “I guess coffee would be nice, thank you.”
    He buzzed Sarah. “Would you please get Mrs. Williamson a cup of coffee with…”
    â€œMilk and two sugars.”
    â€œâ€¦milk and two sugars. And I’ll have one as