Murder in Alphabet City - 1. Chapter 1

There are successive streets in lower Manhattan that have neither a name nor a number. They are simply called ‘A Street,’ ‘B Street,’ ‘C Street,’ etc. Locals refer to this section of town as Alphabet City. It’s a pretty run-down section of Manhattan, and the people who live there are often quite needy.

Two teachers, who taught at Lincoln High on the Upper East Side, lived in that area. They both made a decent living, but they chose to live in Alphabet City as a matter of frugality. Gustav Hamm taught mathematics, and lived on B Street, just off Second Avenue. Theresa Sachs taught Spanish and French, and she lived on C Street just off First Avenue.

They took the bus together to and from school every day, and the students at Lincoln High suspected that they had a ‘thing’ going on between them. On the Friday before Memorial Day, Gustav drove them to school instead of using the bus. At the end of the school day, two students observed Gustav pull up to the curb in front of the school, and Theresa got into the car. She kissed him on the lips, and away they drove.

“Did you see that?” Tom asked.

“No mistaking that kiss,” George replied. “They are definitely spending the long weekend together.”

The two observant boys were best friends and lovers. Tomas Guzman was the ward of one of the wealthiest men in New York, Joseph Vincente. Joe’s partner, Kenneth Hall, considered himself to be Tom’s guardian also. Ken was a New York City police detective. They lived together in a brownstone in a fashionable section of the Upper East Side. The other boy was Georgie Cole. Tom met Georgie when he was the foster son of an elderly couple, The Andersons, who lived four doors down from The Vincente family.

Since Tom’s guardians were gay, they did not mind at all if Georgie came over often. When Georgie visited Tom, the two boys secluded themselves in Tom’s room.

“Do you think they’re really studying?” Joe asked.

“Actually, I’d bet on it,” Ken answered. “They both have excellent grades. Of course, that does not mean they aren’t making love in that room as well.”

If they were making out or not, they never had a sleepover, and Georgie always went home at a decent hour.

The boys looked forward to The Memorial Day holiday. It marked the near end of their sophomore year in High School, and the latter part of their sixteenth year of life. They had both lined up summer jobs at a nearby Burger King and were looking forward to a great summer.

******

Earlier that year, during spring break, Georgie came over after dinner. Tears rolled down his cheeks. His sobbing could not be controlled, and he wrapped himself around Tom.

“What’s wrong?” Tom, Joe, and Ken asked in unison.

“Luke Anderson is in ill health. He and Margaret are moving to Palm Beach and putting their house on the market. I’ll be going back into the foster care system.” He looked at Tom. “We’ll be separated.”

Joe looked pained. “I can’t let that happen,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, and Ken wrapped his brawny arms around the two sobbing boys.

Joe went into his home office and called his friend, Judge Goldman. He explained the situation and told the judge that he wanted to be appointed Georgie’s guardian.

“It’ll be harder this time than when you sought Tom’s guardianship,” the judge said. “Tom was never in the system, but Georgie is. It will take a lot of red tape, but I’m sure we can work it out. Do you know the name of his social worker?”

“No, I do not. Do me a favour. E-Mail me and let me know what you need. I will see to it that you have all the information first thing in the morning.”

“Sure thing, Joe. You will have the letter in a few minutes.”

Joe went back into the living room. “Hang out here for a while longer, Georgie,” he said. “I need to get some information from you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to try to be appointed as your guardian.”

Tom and Georgie embraced Joe, and the weeping continued.

Joe called The Andersons. “I’m working on obtaining guardianship of Georgie,” he explained. “I was wondering if you would mind if he moved in with me tonight.”

They had no objection at all to Georgie moving to Joe’s house that very evening. “We’re so busy packing for our big move,” Mrs. Anderson said, “that you will actually be doing us a favour. And Mr. Vincente, I am so pleased that Georgie will have a good home. Now I do not have to worry about him.”

Five days later, Joe signed the guardianship papers, and Georgie became a permanent resident of his household.

At the first dinner the guardians and the wards enjoyed together, Georgie asked a favour. “I am too old to be called Georgie anymore. Could you all please call me George?”

“It’s a deal,” Tom said for everyone.

On the first day of school after the long Memorial Day weekend, the two boys walked together to the high school. They would never admit it to anyone, but they both loved school, and they soaked up knowledge like a sponge from Tarpon Springs soaks up water.

They separated at the entrance to the school.

“I hate this part,” George said.

“Not as much as I do,” Tom agreed.

They only had one class together, and that was Spanish with Miss Sachs. That class was the first one after lunch. Tom’s second class of the day was Algebra with Mr. Hamm. He could not wait to get there. He had a real talent for math. In fact, he could not make up his mind if he wanted to be a detective like his guardian, Ken, or a math teacher like Mr. Hamm.

He got to his class and started gabbing away with his fellow students. It was about seven minutes past the hour, when it registered with Tom that Mr. Hamm was not there yet. Just as he realized that his teacher was missing, the principal’s secretary, Sarah, came into the room.

“Read, do homework, or whatever you want to do,” she told the class, “But keep occupied until the bell rings, and then go to your next class.”

Mr. Hamm was Tom’s favourite teacher. If he would be willing to admit it, he would confess that he had a crush on him. Gustav Hamm was one handsome dude. Tom was very disturbed by his absence.

“Where’s Mr. Hamm?” he blurted out.

“I wish we knew. We have not been able to reach him,” Sarah admitted. “We have no information as to his whereabouts.”

Tom met George in the school cafeteria for lunch. “Mr. Hamm is AWOL,” he informed his brother.

George said jokingly, “I’ll bet that he and Miss Sachs couldn’t bear to be separated after their weekend of love making, and they decided to play hooky.” It was so far-fetched that both boys started to giggle.

After lunch, they socialized a little bit in the cafeteria with other students, and then walked together to their Spanish class. Sarah was there to make the same announcement that she made to Tom’s algebra class. George and Tom did the homework assigned to them in other classes, and then just sat and chatted. By the time they got home, the fact that the two teachers were no-shows was all but forgotten.

Not so, the next two days. Substitute teachers taught both of the classes. At the end of the third school day that the teachers were missing, Tom and George went to the principal’s office. Mrs. Baum had an open-door policy, and she was glad to see the two boys. She congratulated Tom on how well he was doing.

“I gambled putting you in the tenth grade instead of the ninth, and you’ve made me proud,” she beamed at Tom. “Now what can I do for you two?”

“We’re worried about Miss Sachs and Mr. Hamm,” George said.

“We’ve made many attempts to reach them, “Mrs. Baum admitted, “but so far, we have not been successful. It’s nice of you boys to be so concerned, but if I do not hear from them by Friday, I’ll have to replace them.”

“Have you called the police and reported them missing?” Tom asked.

“No. Should I?”

“George and I saw Mr. Hamm and Miss Sachs drive off together before the Memorial Day weekend, and now they are missing together. It kinda makes you wonder.”

“I didn’t know that they spent the weekend together. You’re right. Now I have to wonder what’s going on.”

“Please, Mrs. Baum,” George said, “my guardian’s a cop. If you give me their addresses and telephone numbers, I could ask him to investigate on his own. I promise you he will be discreet.”

“Yes, that will be fine,” she said, and she gave the boys what they asked for. She also gave them her cell phone number. “If you learn anything, please call me,” she requested.

“Yes, we will,” Tom promised.

When Ken came home that evening, the two boys pounced on him. They told him about the two missing teachers, and how concerned they were.

“Of course, I’ll look into it,” Ken promised. “In fact, I’ll call the precinct right now, and see if there are any missing person’s reports on them.” He went into the den for privacy and returned several minutes later.

“Nothing, boys,” he reported.

“George and I will be home a little late tomorrow. We’re going to check on their apartments.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Ken said with authority. “We’ll go together Saturday morning.”

“But what if they’re in trouble and need our help right now?”

“That’s very unlikely. What’s more likely is that they’re screwing their brains out and decided to take the week off. We’ll wait until Saturday. It’s only two days away.”

The two days seemed endless to the young men, but Saturday finally arrived. Ken exasperated them. He insisted that they eat a healthy breakfast and that they eat it without rushing. All Tom and George could do was to be patient. At last, they got into Ken’s unmarked police car and headed for Alphabet City. Their first stop was at Theresa’s apartment. She lived on the third floor. They knocked and called her telephone number, but they got no answer, so they went to Gustav’s apartment.

Gustav lived on the ground floor. Their pounding and telephone calls were met with the same response; that is to say, nothing. Ken decided to give up, when he said, “If I stretch my neck, I might be able to see into his apartment.”

He walked around the building until he reached Gustav’s place. Try as he might, he couldn’t look in. George was a wee bit taller than Tom. “Come over here,” Ken commanded, “and I will give you a lift up. Maybe you can see into the apartment. His blinds are open.”

After a couple of failed attempts, Ken finally got George high enough to peek in.

“Holy Mother of God,” George shrieked, and he jumped out of Ken’s upheld palms.

“What is it?” Ken yelled.

“Mr. Hamm is lying on the kitchen floor. He’s not moving, and he’s covered with blood.”