THE GENTLEMAN JUICER

THE GENTLEMAN JUICER

“What’s the story here?”

“Well Matt, we’ve got a guy who’s been murdered.  The murder has all the earmarks of an execution-style killing -- two gunshots to the front of the head and one to the back.”

“Did the victim have any i.d. on him?”

“Yes.  His name is Chadlee Barham.  He’s in the system as a collector for loan sharks.  He goes by the nickname 'the gentleman juicer.'He’s never been convicted of anything, however.”

“I’ve heard that nickname before.”

“Any leads yet on who might have done this?”

“We’ve been examining the area and will of course get the ballistics and forensics information as soon as we can.”

“Do you know where Mr. Barham lives?”

“On his driver’s license it gives the address 5265 Chamblee Dr., Apt. 202.”

“Has anyone been over there yet?”

“Not yet.  This killing happened maybe thirty minutes ago, so everything’s fresh.  We’re pulling warrants now and getting the case in the system.  You know Matt?  You look tired.  When did you come on duty?”

“Yesterday morning about six. It’s been a full day.”

“It’s now almost two in the morning.  Go home and get some zzz’s.  I’m sure that when you get in there will be more to go on.  We’ve got a good handle on things.”

“That sounds good.  I’ll see you again in about six hours.”

“Get some rest!”

But, of course, Detective Matt Broadhurst couldn’t simply go home.  When he got to his car he phoned one of the moles he depended on, one who might have some thoughts on this killing.  The mole went by the name of Fleck.  “Hey Fleck, I know it’s mighty late, but could we meet?”

“Sure thing.   What about the diner on 8^th?”

“I’ll see you in 10?”

“Be there.”

Fleck was one of the most helpful moles Broadhurst had ever worked with.  What always amused the detective was that when they would meet, Fleck would always be wearing a disguise, and it was always very convincing.  Broadhurst wasn’t ever sure he knew what Fleck really looked like.

When he got to the diner, it was packed as usual for this time of night, or morning.  He looked around but didn’t spot anyone who looked promising, so he found a booth and ordered some milk.  Soon, an overweight gentleman in a track suit who looked for all the world like an accountant entered the diner. He spotted the detective and made a big show.

“Well man, how long has it been? We gotta to stop meeting like this!”

“Looks like you’ve been working out!”

“Oh, is it showing?” He patted his paunch.

Fleck sometimes wore a “fat suit” that made him seem somewhat obese.  This was the first time he had worn the accountant glasses and slicked back his hair.  Broadhurst could barely contain his amusement.

“So, what’s cookin’?  Miss, I’ll have a coffee, black.”

Fleck knew that by being more “out there,” he was far less conspicuous than if he attempted to be furtive.  He and Broadhurst had also developed an elaborate code over the years to throw off any possible eavesdroppers.  What they said had nothing to do with what they meant.  The phrase “What’s cookin’”meant “So what do you need?” and “I’ll have a coffee, black” meant “We’re dealing with a murder, aren’t we.”

“I’d like coffee, too, but I’d better settle for milk.  Need to get some shuteye.”  (This contained the code for “Yes, it’s a murder and I need your assistance.”)

During their banter, Broadhurst was able to pass Fleck a note outlining the situation.  Fleck was able to show his skill as furtiveness while reading the note and still conducting a conversation at the same time. When the server came by to check on them, Fleck commented, “You know miss, I think I’ll have an orange juice.  Make it a big one, please. (“Sure, I know ‘the gentleman juicer.’ I’ve had him on my radar for years.”)

“So, what do you think of that new apartment building they’re putting up at the corner of 8^th and Main?”  (“So you are pretty much aware of his comings and goings.”)

“It’s going to be a something else, but I think it’ll fit into the neighborhood real good. They’ll say one day that it gave the area some class.” (“The gentleman juicer is, was, not like most collectors.  He blended into things and was not your typical goon.  He had a reputation for being a real gentleman.”)

“I bet it took some persuasion to get them okay that building, though.” (“So, how did he manage to do what he did for a living without any rough stuff?”)

“I’m sure they put together a sweet deal.” (“He had a way with words that got his point across.”)

“Whoever’s involved in that project will make a fortune, especially now that the market is improving.” (I need to know who his associates were, and perhaps something about how his business had been going.”)

“That’s for sure.” (I’ve got you covered.)

“Well, I better get some shuteye.  Long day tomorrow.  Let me pay for your coffee and juice.” (“I’ll be hard at work on this tomorrow, so the quicker you can get me the information, the better.  And, of course, I know the meter’s running.”)

“You do look like you can use the rest.  Tax season is coming up, so I’m going to be burning lotsa the midnight oil.  But, that’s what accountants do.” (I’ll get on this right away.  Tax and business documents are my forte. You’ll have something to work with.”)

After Broadhurst and Fleck parted ways, the detective went home for some rest.  The next thing he knew, the sun was shining in his eyes.  He popped up, looked at the clock, and noticed it was 9:30 in the morning.  He sighed and headed for the shower.  “Since I’m already late, I might as well make it worthwhile,” he thought to himself.  So he showered, carefully shaved, checked his fingernails, pressed a dress shirt, polished his already polished shoes, and put on one of his better suits.  He looked like a million dollars.

When he arrived at the station and walked in, the duty clerk couldn’t help but comment, “Here for tea, sir?”

“Yes. Two lumps with lemon.”

He walked into the chief’s office expecting to be chewed out.  Instead, the chief commented, “I’m really glad you took some extra time.  You work far too hard.  This new case hasn’t moved anywhere in the last two hours, so you ain’t missed nothin’.”

“So, where are we?”

“You need to head over to Barham’s apartment.  We’ve checked it out already and secured it, but you need to look it over.”

“Any ballistics info yet?”

“Yes, here’s the report.”

“Nothing too surprising here.  Looks like a planned execution-style killing doesn’t it.”

“So it was likely a hit.”

“Let me get over to Barham’s apartment to check things out.”

 Broadhurst arrived at the apartment and instantly concluded that it was not where Barham worked, if the assumption that he was a “collector” for loan sharks.  The apartment was sparsely furnished and nothing stood out.  The detective looked through the contents of a desk and checked all the closets and cupboards. When he was in the kitchen, he noticed a collection of wine bottles under the sink.  There was no alcohol in the fridge and nothing of the sort in any of the cupboards.  There were only empty wine bottles.  Broadhurst was no wine connoisseur, but he found the labels on the bottles to be names he didn’t recognize at all, and the shapes of the bottles were all unconventional.  He took photos of the bottles and headed for a wine merchant he knew.

“Say Mort, what can you tell me about these wine bottles?”

Mort Sallinger laughed when he saw the photos.  “I can tell you that the bottles are more interesting than the wine that came in them.  They’re actually not bad, but not worth the price they command.”

“Do you sell these wines?”

“There’s no demand for this stuff here, but I do know of a merchant who probably stocks them. Let me get you his card.”

“Thanks, Mort.”

“Any time, Matt.”

Broadhurst then went to Kellar’s Cellar, a wine shop a few miles away.  Stan Kellar, the owner, was there and immediately recognized the bottles and labels.

“Mr. Kellar, do you sell much of this stuff?

“Not really.  There’s a little restaurant down on 4^th, The Market, that calls for it.  It’s a mid-scale place that’s kinda quiet.  They’ve been purchasing cases of these for years.  Frankly, it’s the only reason I keep buying it.  I keep some on display because of the odd shapes of the bottles. Pure decoration.”

Broadhurst thanked Kellar and headed over to The Market.  It was, indeed, a small place.  It was lunchtime, but there were no more than ten patrons.  But then, Matt thought, it was a Monday morning. He spoke to the owner and showed him the photos of the bottles.  The owner laughed.

“Oh yes, don’t ask me why, but there are some people that actually like these wines.  Maybe it’s the fact that the label is unknown or the bottle shapes are strange, I just don’t know. There’s no accounting for taste.”

“Do you have a regular patron who often orders this wine?”

“Oh, several.”

Thinking about the fact that Barham had no alcohol in his apartment, the then asked, “Is there a patron who asks you for the empty bottles?”

“Oh sure.  Larry Samuels.  He comes in here about every other week.  He eats and then asks if I have any bottles he can have or buy.  He’s been doing that for several years. I guess he’s a collector.”

The detective could hardly keep from smiling at the word “collector.” “Do you know if Mr. Samuels lives near here?”

“I’m not sure, but I guess he must.  This place doesn’t really attract non-locals.  You know, I remember one time it was raining when he came in but it stopped while he was eating.  When he left, he forgot his raincoat so I looked out the door to see if he was still around.  When I looked out, I saw him standing in front of an apartment building like he was getting ready to enter.  I cried out to him that he had left his raincoat, so he came back and got it.  Come to think of it, he had bought a wine bottle that day.”

“Which apartment building was it?”

“Take a right and head down to the third door.  That’s where he was standing.”

Broadhurst thanked the owner and headed for the apartment building.  He scanned the list of residents and found the name “L. Samuels.”  He called into the station and reported his findings.  Another detective soon joined him and they spoke to the super.

“Has Mr. Samuels lived here long?”

“I wouldn’t say he lives here at all.  He just comes here every week or so.  He’s a nice man; pays his rent on time; doesn’t cause any problems.  I guess he’s had the apartment for at least two years.  I just became super last year and he was a tenant then.”

“We need to take a look at the apartment.”

“Do you have a search warrant?”

“Here you go.”

Broadhurst and the other detective went into Samuels’ apartment.  Like Barham’s apartment, it was sparsely furnished and very neat.  Broadhurst immediately went to the kitchen, where he found wine bottles under the kitchen sink.  Both detectives checked out the rest of the apartment and, again, found nothing unusual. Broadhurst did notice an old trunk that was used as a coffee table.  He also noticed some shoe boxes in a closet.  The other detective was called away, but Broadhurst stayed to keep checking things out.  Because the warrant did not allow for more than a superficial check of the apartment as there was nothing to tie Samuels to Barham, Broadhurst called in to request permission to check the trunk and the contents of the closet.  He made his case and got the proper permission.  He opened the trunk.  It was empty, but Broadhurst noticed that the sides and bottom seemed to be fake.  He pulled gently at the sides and found that they came out.  There was nothing behind them, however.  But when he had the false sides removed, he found that he could remove the bottom.  Here he found lots of papers. 

As he looked through the papers, he noticed that everything appeared to be in code. Just like his conversations with Fleck, nothing was what it seemed.  The only paper that was straightforward was a receipt from Maxstein’s Clothiers, one of the city’s elite haberdasheries.  It was for a suit and some shirts.  He took photos of all the papers and put them back in the trunk.  He then moved to the closet where he surveyed the shoe boxes.  All except one seemed normal. He checked them out and found nothing unusual.  However, one of the boxes seemed a little frayed.  Broadhurst pulled it from the closet and opened it.  He removed a neat pair of oxford-styled shoes and found a false bottom.  He carefully removed the false bottom and once again found papers.  He spread them out and took photos of them.  Like the papers in the trunk, they were mainly coded.  Again, one of the papers was straightforward.  It was a letter from Frager’s Realty, presumably the company that managed this apartment house.  The detective was very happy to discover that the name to whom the letter was addressed was not Lawrence or Larry Samuels, but was rather Chadlee Barham.  This was the link Broadhurst needed. 

It struck Broadhurst as odd that he found the two straightforward papers amidst all of the coded ones.  It was also interesting that he found the unusual wine bottles under the kitchen sinks in both apartments.  It was almost as if Barham was leaving clues, should something happen to him. 

He called in his report to the station and had the Samuels apartment sealed and guarded.  While he was waiting for a police officer to come stand watch at the apartment, he got a call from Fleck.

“There’s something interesting happening at the concession stand at the park about two this afternoon. Can you be there?”

“I’m on my way.”

Of course, this was all code.  Broadhurst went to the food court at the shopping mall that was near the largest park in the city.  He headed for the food court.  Once again, he looked forward to seeing what disguise Fleck would be wearing this time.  He sat down and soon, Fleck came over disguised as a priest.

“Been a while since your last confession son,” Fleck commented.  Once again, he made no attempt at furtiveness.  What he said was code for, “I’ve got some information I think you’ll find very interesting.”

“Well Father, I’ve kept by sins under control, but I know that confession is good for the soul.”   This comment meant that Broadhurst was making good progress as but that any other information would certain be welcome.”

“Let me buy us some drinks.  Is a coke okay?  Diet or regular?”

“Diet’s fine.”

In addition to being a superb mole and master of disguises, Fleck had also mastered the basic of magic tricks as a teenager.  After he purchased the drinks, he deftly placed a message under Broadhurst’s drink and handed it to him.”

“You did ask for diet, right?”  (Here’s something you might find useful.)

“I keep in good shape, but my doctor says I don’t need any extra empty calories.” (“I’m sure this will be of great use to me.”)

They sipped their drinks and made small talk for a while.  Broadhurst was able to take the paper from the underside of the cup and slip it into his pocket.

“Father, I know you’ve got lots of souls to save, so I promise I’ll see you at confession before too long.” (Thanks for the info and I know you’ll still be on the lookout for me and get in touch if you find out anything more.)

“I’m not holding my breath.” (That’s a promise.)

So, Broadhurst had four names before him.  Chadlee Barham, Larry Samuels, Maxstein of Maxstein’s Clothiers, and Fred Frager of Frager Realty.   He figured that Barham and Samuels were the same person.  Joseph Maxstein had operated a high-end men’s clothing store for years and there had as far as Broadhurst could see, never been a blemish on his record.  He needed to investigate Fred Frager more.  He took a look at the note Fleck had slipped him and it offered several promising leads.  First of all, Frager had been investigated for racketeering, loan sharking, and money laundering, but nothing stuck.  Another name came into the picture, Josiah Oxley, a very wealthy and prominent real estate owner and developer.  Fleck suggested a relationship between Oxley and Frager. 

Josiah Oxley was a dynamo of a man who had amassed a great fortune before he was thirty.  He was also well known for his philanthropic work.  It always seemed that the pursuit of victory mean more to him than a win in itself.  When Broadhurst looked into Oxley’s real estate holdings, he noticed five apartment/commercial buildings that were managed by Frager Realty.  Two of these just happened to be where Chadlee Barham/ Larry Samuels had their apartments.  Maxstein’s Clothiers was located in another one and Frager Realty in yet another.  The link between Frager and Barham/Samuels was growing stronger.  But the detective still needed to see if Oxley and Maxstein were connected in some way.

He returned to Barham’s apartment, where he once again looked over everything.  The super told the detective that the management company was getting antsy to have the apartment put back on the market.  Broadhurst could comment only that they would have to wait.  He entered the apartment with new information and was looking for clues that might have evaded him before.  In looking in Barham’s closet, he noticed that Barham owned five average off-the rack suits and four average sport jackets.  He seemed to own five pairs of dress slacks and three casual slacks.  His shirts were mostly average shirts that could be picked up in any decent department store.  A couple of items stood out, however.  He seemed to have one very nice suit that had been tailored for Maxstein’s.  (He remembered the receipt he had found in the trunk in the other apartment.) He also noticed three shirts that also came from Maxstein’s.  While it might not be unusual for a man to own one high-end suit and two or three high-end dress shirts, Broadhurst made note of this anyway.  He also found it odd that while he remembered no clothes hanging in the Samuels apartment, he noticed a number of boxes of shoes, whereas in this apartment, he found two average pairs of dress shoes and two pairs of casual shoe on the floor of the closet, unboxed.

With his knowledge of the relationships between all of the men he was dealing with, Broadhurst set about to establish more links.  Fleck came through and furnished him with some very interesting information that he could follow on.  Everything that Fleck provided was “off the record,” but Broadhurst knew the drill so well he could use the information without jeopardizing the case. 

He discovered that during the recession of 2009-2010, both Oxley and Frager lost large sums of money. Frager’s situation was more precarious as he had to keep all of his various under-the-table businesses afloat.  To help with cash flow, he decided to up the rent on customers and tenants who were probably not in a position to move.  Maxstein’s was one of those tenants.  When Maxstein’s lease was renewed in 2009, the rent went up 20% and the next year it went up 10%.  Frager might have used “the gentleman juicer” to help smooth things out with Maxstein and other concerned tenants.  One thing that Frager had going for him was the fact that high-end clothiers were much more able to pass increases along to their customers than your average clothier could. 

Burt then there was also the other businesses of Frager.  When the economy was booming, Broadhurst figured that the flow of money both over and under the table went smoothly.  It would be easier for the gentlemanly Chadlee Barham to talk to those who owed Frager money and set up payments that could work for all involved.  However, when the economy tanked, the debtors were not in as comfy a situation.  Broadhurst speculated that Frager started squeezing out money from operating expenses.  (A little digging by Fleck made the detective aware that some of the money intended for capital improvements and salaries got siphoned off.  Broadhurst smiled when he noted that the super in Samuel’s apartment resigned because of a wage freeze and that his replacement was actually hired at a lower salary.)  Much of this money siphoning involved properties owned by Josiah Oxley.  So, it was time to look more into Mr. Oxley.

Checking Josiah Oxley’s records was labyrinthine, to say the least.  He had more money in more places than Broadhurst had ever encountered.  Once again, he called on Fleck to help him navigate.  They found out some amazing things.  For one, Oxley had other dealings with Frager that went beyond real estate.  Another surprising find was that three of the hundreds of non-profit organizations that benefitted from Mr. Oxley’s largess were not legitimate.  Individually, these non-profits would fly under the radar of a tax examiner, given the complexity of Oxley’s holdings and his general reputation.  However, put together, they provided a tidy sum that could be used for less than legitimate purposes.

Broadhurst looked over the dummy boards of these non-profits.  One name was common to all three.  It was the name of Fred Frager’s wife, Lonnie Privette, who went by her maiden name.  It now looked to Broadhurst like a once-solid scheme of money laundering and transfer was about to collapse, if it hadn’t already done so.  And there was yet one more name to look into.  Once again, Fleck’s services were called upon.

Lonnie Privette, it turned out, had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, but had managed to escape her past and make a name for herself as a realtor.  This is how she met Fred Frager.  They were married shortly after their first meeting and Lonnie Privette “retired” from the world of real estate.  She ostensibly lived the life of a wealthy socialite, but it became clear to Broadhurst that she did much more than attend gallery openings, cocktail parties and charity events.  She became something of an expert in non-profits. 

Even with this new bit of information and expansion of the cast of characters, Broadhurst realized that he was no closer to determining who the killer was.  He decided to turn his focus in that direction.  From the ballistics report and conditions of the crime scene, it seemed certain that the killer was experienced and careful to cover his tracks.

Broadhurst decided that if “the gentleman juicer” had given him clues that led to identifying Frager and Maxstein, names without which he might not have been able to uncover Oxley and Privette, perhaps he provided a clue as to the killer.  The detective looked over the photos of the crime scene.  He was startled to find something in the photos that had eluded him before.  Barham was lying on the ground beside his car, stomach down.  His head was facing the car.  His left arm was stretched out with his left hand curled up in a ball, except that the index finger was extended and pointed somewhere.  Broadhurst looked in the direction of the finger pointing and noticed a hedge, a privet hedge.  This might have been a huge coincidence but, given the clues “the gentleman juicer” had left before, he might have provided an additional clue hear.  From the ballistics and forensics report, it was probable that Barham had been first shot in the forehead and then shot twice in the back of the head when he was on the ground.  So, it was likely he saw his attacker and quickly figured out a way to help with the investigation.  The chances were slim that this was the case, but Broadhurst had gone slimmer leads than this.  He decided to look closer at Lonnie Privette.

It turned out that Lonnie Privette had two brothers who were dead beats.  One had a clean record and the other had minor scrapes with the law, but nothing that indicated he was prone to crimes of violence.  The detective also discovered that Lonnie had a half-brother whose name was Haskell Ball.  Ball was an ex-convict who had served time for violent crimes, including grand theft and manslaughter.  Police records showed that he had also been indicted for two other killings but was never brought to trial.  Broadhurst decided to look into why these charges were dropped.  It turned out they were dropped because in one case, the police failed to follow correct procedures, something that Broadhurst was always a stickler for, and in the second, there was insufficient evidence to bring the case to trial.  In both instances, Ball’s attorney was associated with Boyleston and Fenwick, one of the larger law firms in the city. 

Broadhurst checked the client list for this firm and discovered that Josiah Oxley’s firm had this law firm on retainer.  This might just be another coincidence, but once again, a slim lead is better than no lead.  He then had a flashback to one of the apparently coded messages he had found among Barham’s papers. They contained the phrases  “Go Red Sox” and “Way to go, Red Sox!”  The detective then made a connection between these words and the law firm of Boyleston and Fenwick.  Boyleston is one of the main drags in Boston and Fenway Park is the home of the Boston Red Sox.  Barham might have mistaken “Fenwick” for “Fenway” or just assumed that any half-witted detective would make the connection.  In any case, Broadhurst decided to go with it.

Haskell Ball was picked up and questioned.  He seemed to have an airtight alibi, but Broadhurst was not convinced. He noticed that Ball was a chain smoker who had the habit of taking the cigarette he had just smoked and snuffed out the end with his fingers.  He would then place the butt in his pocket.  He wasn’t about to leave a paper or DNA trail.  Broadhurst figured that if Ball was indeed the killer, he had waited for “the juicer” to come up to his car.  He would likely have smoked a number of cigarettes during his wait.  Broadhurst went back to the parking lot where Barham had been killed.  Beside the small café served by the lot, there was not much else in the area. If any cigarette butts had been left by Ball, something the detective doubted, they would have been all cleaned up by now and would have attracted the attention of the forensics team in any case.  Broadhurst decided to look for a convenience store or gas station in the vicinity and found one about a mile away.  He went in. 

As it was at night, Broadhurst thought that the clerk at the gas station/convenience store might possibly have been working the night of the killing.  He walked up to the clerk and showed him a photo of Haskell Ball.  “Do you recognize this man?”

“Oh yes, I remember the wine-stain birthmark on his face,” the clerk replied.

“This is a long shot, but do you happen to remember about when you saw him?”

“ I can do better than that.  I remember exactly.  That’s because the birthmark reminded me of my brother, who has a similar birthmark on his neck.  It was my brother’s birthday.”

It turned out that the night the clerk saw Ball was the night that Barham was killed.  Ball’s alibi was broken. The clerk was even able to retrieve surveillance videos of the evening that clearly identified Ball. 

Now, with this information in hand, Broadhurst could only hope that Ball would call on the same attorney who had served him in the past, the attorney who worked for Boyleston and Fenwick.   However, when questioned, Ball instead sought a plea deal.  “I’m a little fish in a big, polluted pond. I can deliver the polluters to you, if you cut me a deal,” Ball said with a mixture of street-smart snarkiness and frightened modesty. 

The D.A.’s office was able to work out a deal with Ball in exchange for information.  He told them that he had worked as an enforcer for Frager.  When Frager’s house of cards began to fall, he knew that he would be taking Oxley with him.  Frager’s wife had managed the dummy non-profits Oxley supported and had been able to syphon money to help support Frager’s loan sharking and money laundering enterprises.  When the economy fell flat, Chadlee “the gentleman juicer” Barham’s services were called on more and more.  However, Barham’s sweet-talking persuasiveness was less and less successful as more and people were getting more desperate.

It was then that Frager turned to his wife’s half-brother, Haskell Ball, to “make more of an impression” on his clients  When Ball was accused of killing a client of Frager’s, Frager went to Oxley under false pretenses to secure an attorney for Ball.  Frager knew that an attorney associated with a firm that Oxley used would not only help Ball but would also implicate Oxley should an investigation arise. 

Then, Ball killed someone else, and the same attorney was retained to defend Ball.  By this time, Barham was aware of what was going on and did not want to be connected to anything that involved murder.  He tendered his “resignation” to Frager, which Frager accepted.  He not only accepted it, but surprised Barham with a gift card to Maxstein’s Clothier’s. 

Barham assumed that this “bonus” was because he had successfully quieted the waters with Maxstein when Frager’s property management company greatly increased the rental on Maxstein’s business, knowing that Maxstein was too heavily invested in this location to consider moving, especially during a recession.   In reality, Frager gave him the gift card so that he could purchase a fine suit to be buried in.  Frager knew that Barham would go to the police, or at the very least, be very forthcoming should he be questioned by the police.  Ball’s services were needed once again. 

After months of investigative work, the D.A.’s office had established solid cases to indict Ball on murder charges, Frager and his wife Lonnie on conspiracy to commit murder along with numerous other charges, and Josiah Oxley with supporting bogus non-profits.  Because of his help with the investigation, Ball’s sentence was reduced.   Although the charges brought against Oxley were the least significant, and indeed, Oxley was for the most part an unwitting participant, his reputation was in ruins.  Broadhurst was most impressed by the fact that Oxley revealed his strong character by devoting the rest of his life to community service.

As Detective Broadhurst looked back on this case, however, he became more and more amazed at the ways “the juicer” had given him all the clues he needed to gather up all the people involved.  He had immediately given Broadhurst the names of Maxstein and Frager.  Maxstein was, of course, not involved in any wrong doing but was a pivotal part of the prosecution’s case.  But then, Barham had to laugh when he remembered that the shoe box that held some of the papers was decorated on the outer border with a privet hedge. The shoes inside were colored oxblood and Barham had even gone so far as to include a small can of oxblood shoe polish in the box.  The shoes were oxford style and one of the three dress shirts from Maxstein’s was oxford style and all were made by a shirt maker on Boyleston Street in Boston.   He laughed even more when he remembered that one of the oddly shaped wine bottles was in the shape of a bull, or an ox.  What completely floored him was that Barham had used wine bottles as the first clue he was sure an investigator would notice.  He knew that Ball would likely be the one to kill him and he knew that the wine-stain  birthmark on Ball’s face was an obvious distinctive feature in his appearance.   In the months following the conclusion of the trial, Broadhurst  and Fleck had a great time decoding the papers Barham had left from the photos the detective had taken.

Chadlee “the gentleman juicer” Barham might have been a low-life in some respects, but he was a gentlemanly low-life.  He was also a person who, when the stakes got too high and the danger of people really getting hurt, including himself, too great, took the high road and helped lead Matt Broadhurst to a successful investigation of the case.  Broadhurst and Fleck burst out laughing when they figured out a code that kept eluding them.   It was a simple diner receipt with the words “THANK YOU” at the top.  Below it were 13 dots, with the fourth dot placed above the others and a space between dots six and seven.  These dots most certainly stood for Barham’s gentlemanly reply:  “YOU’RE WELCOME.”