Killing With Kings

by Lois Lavrisa

  “Would you mind if I take a look?”

  Beaker raised an eyebrow. “I’m not too sure you should be doing that.”

  “Just a quick look. I promise.”

  “Fine, but if I get in trouble, I’m telling them you did this without my approval, okay?”

  “Yup. Got it.”

  He walked over to his desk and grabbed a soda. “I heard you’re going with Regina Fenny to my buddy’s birthday cookout tomorrow.”

  “The eighties-themed one?”

  He nodded and then drank from the can.

  “Yeah, I got roped into going as repayment for a favor.”

  “I’m going as Indiana Jones. How about you?”

  “Ponch, from CHiPs. Unless I can get out of it.”

  “Go, you’ll have fun. Plus, I’ll be there. We’ll have time to catch up.” Beaker’s phone rang, and he took the call.

  I took that as my cue and helped myself to the report.

  The results showed that all the cards had oil on them, mostly concentrated on the edges. In the report, I read that three cards had more of their surfaces covered in the substance than the rest: a ten of clubs, a king of hearts, and a king of diamonds. I remembered Dickey mentioning that in the cards Ray had dropped, there’d been two kings.

  The murderer was someone who’d had access to the cards, which we all had. But only the dealer would have been able to give Ray the ones saturated with the most oil.

  Maggie must have had the oil on her hands, and it had been transferred onto the sides of the cards as she held the deck. When she’d dealt the cards to Ray, she’d swiped the fronts to make sure that he had full exposure to the allergen. Enough exposure to make him use his injector, with which she must have already tampered.

  What I couldn’t wrap my head around was why she would kill him. I didn’t know that yet. But I knew I was onto a solid lead.

  Most crimes were committed because the victim and perpetrator had some connection. I needed to find out what linked Ray and Maggie.

  It was time to have a talk with Maggie. Since I had no idea what her phone number was or where she lived, my first stop would be to talk to her brother Elias, the bartender at the Magnolia Club. I returned the report to where I’d found it.

  I tapped Beaker on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

  He nodded as he continued his call.

  A door opened, and Nowak walked in. “Someone told me they saw you come in here.”

  “I was just heading out. How you holding up?”

  “Okay, I guess. Some relatives are still in town, but I’m over all the intense family time. Too much for me.” She walked alongside me, keeping up with my brisk pace. “We’re relieved McFalls found Ray’s killer. I still don’t know why Norman did it.”

  I let her talk.

  “At least he’ll be behind bars for what he did,” Nowak continued. “Justice will be served, although it doesn’t bring back my uncle.”

  How would I tell her Norman wasn’t the killer and that I thought the real murderer could be Maggie? I stopped in my tracks.

  She followed suit.

  I let out a long exhale, knowing this would not be what she wanted to hear. But I had to tell her. “Here’s the deal. I don’t think Norman is guilty. Matter of fact, I’m almost positive.”

  Nowak locked gazes with me. “What do you mean? Yes, he’s guilty. McFalls caught him red-handed with Ray’s EpiPen. And Norman had run-ins with my uncle before.”

  “Yes, that’s true. But I think the shot was planted on him.”

  “Why?”

  I caught her up to speed.

  “Maggie the dealer, why would she kill my uncle? That doesn’t make any sense to me. She didn’t even know him. Didn’t they only meet the night of the tournament?”

  “Yes. At least I think so.” I ran a hand through my hair. “But right now, all the clues lead to her, as far-fetched as it sounds. I’m going to pursue that lead until I find out otherwise.”

  “It just makes more sense that Norman did it. It was his bar, his cards, he didn’t like my uncle…” She paused. “He had access to everything. He had a motive.”

  “I get it. And you can stay with that while I work on my theory.” I continued down the hallway.

  “Fine.” She followed me. “But in case you’re right, I’d like you to keep me in the loop. And please give me anything you might need help with, okay?”

  “I can do that.” I put my hand on the door leading to the parking lot.

  “What’s your plan?” Nowak asked.

  “I’m heading to visit Maggie’s brother at the Magnolia Club.”

  “Do you want me to go with?”

  “Nope, I got it. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

  “Thank you for all you’re doing for my uncle. I know you didn’t like him because he didn’t treat you so well.”

  “It’s not a matter of liking or not liking someone; it’s a matter of finding the truth.”

  Chapter 23

  “Hey, Big Mike.” Upon entering the Magnolia Club, I greeted the bouncer. It was the morning after Norman’s arrest. “Is Elias here?”

  A pungent odor of an industrial lemon cleaner lingered in the air. Chairs were stacked on tabletops. A mop and bucket leaned against a wall.

  “He’s in the stockroom. He’ll be out soon. How’s Norman holding up?” Mike asked.

  “Fine, considering.” I glanced around the room. I heard some noise coming from the back and assumed that’s where Elias was.

  “You know, there’s no way he killed Ray. I had more of a reason to do it than Norman had. Not that I did it, mind you.” Big Mike took a chair from the tabletop, turned it over, and slid it by the table. “This whole thing with Norman sucks big-time.”

  I helped Big Mike pull the chairs from the tabletops and slide them under the tables. “I think he’s innocent, too. But then that leaves the question of who did it.”

  “Yeah. Right now my buddy is being treated like a criminal. The way he was escorted out of here, everyone staring at him, that look on his face—” Big Mike stopped midsentence. “It’s just not fair.”

  “I know. But after finding evidence in Norman’s bag, they had to take him in. I’m sure McFalls’ team is doing a thorough investigation.”

  “Why aren’t you all looking for the real killer, instead of picking on someone innocent?”

  “Trust me. I’m doing the best I can to help him.”

  “You know what I think?” Mike rubbed his temples.

  “Nope. I can’t read minds.”

  Pulling a dolly stacked with cases of beer, Elias appeared in the doorway. He nodded as he passed.

  “I gotta talk to this guy,” I told Mike.

  “But can you hold up a second?” Mike asked me.

  “Sure.” I watched Elias pull the dolly behind the bar and to the front of a huge refrigerator.

  “Between you and me, I think someone put that shot thing in his bag,” Big Mike declared.

  “That’s a theory I’ve already begun working on.” I glanced around the room and saw only the one doorway from the main barroom into the back. “Did you see anyone go back there to the dressing room last night?” Someone who could have put the injector in Norman’s case.

  “It was busy. I really didn’t pay attention.”

  “Do you have any video cameras here?”

  “I wish. Like I told the other officers, they’ve been on the blink.” He shook his head.

  “Then there’s no way to find out who might have snuck back there. Can you get me the names of everyone who was working?”

  “Sure, I have a schedule back in the office.” He put the last chair in place.

  I patted Big Mike on the shoulder and left to approach Elias, who was in the process of loading bottled beers into the glass-front refrigerator. “Hi, Elias. Remember me?”

  He looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah. You’re a cop.”

  “That’s right. And I’m trying to get in touch with your sist
er, Maggie. Can I get her number and address?”

  “Why are you asking so much about my sister?” He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “I’m just covering my bases. She was the dealer the night of the poker tournament, when the cop died.”

  He turned his back to me. “Give me a second.” He finished unpacking the case he had been working on. Then he wrote down a number and address and handed the paper to me. “This should be her newest cell number, although I’ve tried calling her, and it didn’t work. She’s out of town now and might be in an area with crappy reception.”

  “Okay. Thanks. What’s her last name?” I pulled up a barstool.

  “Same as mine, Linzey.”

  I had him spell it out for me while I wrote it on the paper next to her number and address. I needed to find a connection between Maggie and Ray. “Do you know if she knew Lieutenant Ray Murphy before the night of the poker tournament?”

  “Not that I know of.” Elias shut the glass door. “She was hired just for that game.” He stopped and folded his arms on his chest. “You know, I’m feeling uncomfortable talking to you about her.”

  “Yeah. I get it. No one wants to talk to a cop. But I’m not here in any official capacity. I’m just trying to help out a friend. Would you indulge me and let me ask a few more questions? Then I promise I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Fine.” Elias shrugged his shoulders. “I guess.”

  “Did she have any other jobs?”

  “Yeah, out of state in South Carolina. Some casino ship. Not sure if she still works there or not.” Elias didn’t make eye contact with me.

  “Who does she hang out with?” Maybe a friend of hers had a beef with Ray, and Maggie had sought vengeance on his or her behalf.

  “Not sure. I mean, besides me. But I work here all the time, so I don’t get to see her a lot.” He winced.

  “You okay?”

  “Chronic migraines. Some days are better than others. I’m so used to the pain, it’s become normal to me. Only one med seems to help some.”

  “Sorry about that.” I leaned my elbows on the bar. “Does your sister have a significant other?”

  “Not that I know of.” Elias grabbed a knife cutter and slit open a case of beer.

  “How long has she lived here?” Maybe she’d had a run-in with Ray at some point. I needed to check her records.

  “A few months.” Elias had a gleam of perspiration on his forehead.

  Was he getting nervous talking to me? Or was he hiding something, protecting his sister? “What brought her here?”

  “She bounced around a lot, you know, going to where the jobs were. Guess there were jobs here.”

  “And her brother.”

  Elias looked away. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “Do you know where she lived before she moved back to Savannah?” I remembered that Norman had said she’d worked in Vegas, and I wanted to confirm that.

  “Vegas.” Elias turned his back to me. “I really have to get these stocked before we open tonight.”

  “Okay. Thanks for your help.” I handed him my business card. “Please give my number to Maggie, and let her know I’d like to talk to her.”

  Big Mike walked over with a list of people who’d worked at the Magnolia Club the previous night, when Norman had been arrested. I thanked him before I exited the club. Outside, I took a picture of the list and sent it to Nowak. She’d wanted to be involved; I’d let her contact the employees.

  A text came in from Regina. “See you tonight at six—get into the groove!” She also listed the address. I chuckled at the Madonna reference.

  I tried to recall what I had on hand at my house to use for my Ponch from CHiPs costume. I had a pair of aviator sunglasses, tall black boots, and a motorcycle helmet. Thankfully, I had khaki pants and a matching short-sleeved button-down shirt as well. That would have to do. Admittedly, I hadn’t put much thought into the event. But I did owe Regina, and I was a man of my word.

  As I left, I punched in Maggie’s number. “The number you have reached is not accepting calls at this time.” The recorded message could mean any number of things, including an issue with service. Elias had said she was out of town. Maybe she was in an unserviceable area.

  After talking to Elias, I felt I might be grasping at straws. If Maggie and Ray had only met that night, she would have had no cause to kill him. What would she gain by killing a stranger?

  I wondered if Elias could be lying for her. Family members had been known to cover for each other, and I didn’t know him that well.

  What I did know for sure was that someone in the room that night had killed Ray. Based on what Regina had told me about allergen exposure and reaction time, I was confident Ray’s exposure to the peanut oil had occurred after the dinner break because that’s when he’d gone into anaphylactic shock. Where had everyone been around that time? I needed to account for everyone’s whereabouts during the break, when I suspected the oil had gotten put on the cards.

  On the evening of our tournament, the dinner break had lasted less than twenty minutes. Sanders’ Tavern wasn’t that big. There really wasn’t any place to go that was out of sight except the restroom.

  Coats hung on the back wall near the restrooms, in plain view. I doubted the killer would have had time to take the injector out of Ray’s jacket, empty the medicine, refill it with peanut oil, and then replace it in the pocket without anyone noticing. What made more sense was that the killer had had another injector prefilled with peanut oil, which he’d swapped with Ray’s epinephrine-filled injector. That sort of exchange could have taken place quickly and easily, without drawing attention. The killer then would have known that he or she only needed to expose Ray to enough allergen to get him to use his injector.

  What details of that night was I missing?

  Maggie had fanned the cards on the table before she’d left to eat. After that, anyone there could have come by the table and wiped oil on them. But how had Ray gotten the three cards with the most oil? Maybe the oil had instead been put on something he’d touched, like his glass or chair, then been transferred from his hands to his cards.

  The question that kept coming back was, who had exposed Ray to the allergen? Although JJ was there, he’s at the bottom of my suspect list. Just to cover all bases, I’d let Nowak talk to him, assuming he’d talk to her.

  When I pulled in front of Maggie’s house at 2222 Harmon Street, the road was empty save for a gas company truck two houses down. The faded blue stucco house had overgrown hedges, and the lawn was nothing more than a patch of weeds littered with trash. Stepping on the porch, I saw a lawn chair and a potted plant. A puddle of water welled under the pot, indicating that someone had recently taken care of it. There was no doorbell, so I knocked. I waited a few minutes and then knocked again. No one answered.

  The window blinds were pulled down. I’d been in houses similar to this. A bunch were built in the mid-1950s: small one-story cheap tract homes. Tiny living room in front with two bedrooms and a bath off a hallway. Kitchen in back.

  After walking through an opening in the chain-link fence to the rear of the property, I peeked in the back window. The kitchen looked in order; no dishes sat on the counter or table. There was a small dinette with two chairs. A coffeepot, a microwave, and a prescription bottle sat on the countertop. A medium-sized duffel bag was stacked on a cardboard box near the darkened hall entrance. I couldn’t see much past that. I’d return here tomorrow unless I heard from her before then.

  My cell rang.

  “Hi, Sergeant, this is Elias.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “My sister just got a hold of me, and I told her about our conversation. She said she has nothing to hide and wants you to meet her at her house tomorrow morning at eight. Can you do that?”

  “Sure.”

  Leaving Maggie’s house, I headed over to the precinct. On the way there, I called Nowak to update her. />
  “I agree with you. The dealer seems the most likely suspect. But you’re right. There doesn’t seem to be any connection between her and my uncle. And JJ seems unlikely as well, but I’ll talk to him.”

  “I’m going to do some more digging around to see if I can uncover a link between them. I’m meeting her at her house tomorrow morning at eight.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” Nowak offered.

  I gave her the address. “I’m heading back to the station now.”

  “Sergeant, have you reconsidered the possibility that my uncle’s killer is already in custody?”

  “Yup.” And that thought killed me.

  Chapter 24

  “Why would Norman keep the EpiPen? It doesn’t make any sense. If he committed murder, the first thing he would’ve done was get rid of the evidence.” I sat opposite McFalls at his desk.

  He pushed his chair back. “Criminals are stupid. That’s why.”

  “What about the pattern of oil on the cards?” I continued. “Ray’s cards had the most concentration of it.”

  “One theory is that after Norman rubbed oil on Ray’s glass, Ray then transferred it to his cards.” McFalls stretched his arms overhead.

  I had to let him know that I’d seen the results without getting Beaker in trouble. “Most of the residue was on the front of three cards. The same three cards Ray had.”

  “Oh? How do you know this?”

  “I took a look at the evidence.”

  “Did you get assigned to my case without me knowing?”

  “No.”

  “Listen. Norman admitted making all the drinks that night and easily could’ve messed with Ray’s glass.” McFalls paused. “José, I’ve got this. We’re covering all the bases here. I get it. Norman is a friend of yours, and you don’t believe he did it.”

  “No, I don’t. Do you want to know my theory?”

  He massaged the back of his neck. “Sure. I’ll hear you out.”

  “What I think is that the dealer held the deck with oil on her fingers and the oil rubbed off on the sides of the other cards as well.” I watched McFalls carefully for any sign that I might be onto something. His facial expression remained in a neutral state, eyes unblinking, forehead relaxed. I could tell he was unmoved by my theory.