Murdered by Prejudice: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Series

by Dianne Harman

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Judy said as she gave Cal one of her million-dollar smiles. “Afterwards, why don’t you plan on coming to my cottage, and we can ring the bell so Brandy Boy can deliver a little brandy? Trust me, if the San Francisco Chronicle thought it was worth writing about, it’s definitely worth seeing.”

  “Consider it done,” Cal said as he stood up and walked Judy over to the door.

  Roger and Liz exchanged a knowing glance. They both knew Cal didn’t have a chance if Judy was interested in him.

  CHAPTER 15

  The next morning as Liz was getting into Cal’s car, he said, “I’ve been thinking about Sylvia Tanaka, and I see no reason to go to the prison. I’ve talked extensively with the head of the prison as well as Wes, the county coroner. Her supervisor personally spoke to everyone she had contact with, and no one had any thoughts on who her killer might have been.”

  “What about someone who may have spent time in prison and was recently paroled?” Liz asked.

  “From what her supervisor told me, she was the most popular guard they’d ever had. The inmates all liked and respected her. As I think you know, she’d recently been promoted to the head of the prison guards, and the murder took place a few days before she was scheduled to assume that position.”

  “How sad,” Liz said. “What did they do with her personal effects, you know the miscellaneous personal things she probably kept in her desk?”

  “The guards don’t have desks. When their shift is over, they fill out a report, using a common desk. Her supervisor personally went through everything in her locker and found absolutely nothing other than the usual personal effects. He also went through the desk that the guards used and there was nothing of hers in it. Her effects were sent to the family. Wes did the autopsy, and he’s sent me a full report.”

  “Since we’re not going to the prison, where are we going?” Liz asked.

  “We’re going to the Tanaka home. They live a short distance from the prison in a town called Ferris. It’s only about half an hour from here. Unfortunately, it’s in the opposite direction of where we’re going this afternoon, Red Patterson’s office. The man who is acting as his replacement is holding all of his personal effects for me to examine when we get there.”

  “I’m assuming that you spoke to Wes about this murder as well,” Liz said.

  “Yes. Looks like he was killed with the same gun as the others. There was one interesting thing Wes told me, although it hasn’t been verified.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Wes said he thought the bullets that killed the individuals that he autopsied came from a rifle similar to the type that is issued to military personnel. If he’s right. that could help in the investigation.”

  “Two things, Cal. One, why didn’t any of the other coroners come to that conclusion? And two, I thought military-issued firearms had to be returned when someone left the service. If it is a military firearm, that would mean the person is in the military, or…”

  “Stole or somehow kept the weapon,” Cal said, finishing her sentence.

  “Okay, let’s play with this. What if the murderer is AWOL? That would account for someone having a military weapon, and if that’s so, it would sure lessen the pool from all federal employees to just individuals who are AWOL.”

  Cal glanced over at her. “I can see why Wes is so impressed with your sleuthing abilities. Quite frankly, that hadn’t occurred to me. I’ve been focused for the last twenty-four hours on where someone could get a gun like that and was thinking more in the realm of gun shows or illegal purchases. I’m not naïve enough to think that departing military personnel never take their weapons with them when they leave the military, even if it is illegal.”

  “Might be a place to start,” Liz said.

  “I agree. When we get back to the lodge this afternoon I’ll get in touch with the FBI’s liaison at the Pentagon. I’m thinking, since the killings started on the East Coast and made their way to the West Coast, that the killer lives in this area or has ties to this area, but that is supposition.”

  “That may be a supposition, but it makes sense. The missing element is the motive. Why these particular people? They must have something in common, but from the victims in the Red Cedar area, I sure can’t think of one. A postmaster, a prison guard, and a fire service superintendent. I don’t see any nexus whatsoever.”

  “Nor do, I, Liz, but I have found that in time most things become clear. At least I hope so, because this string of murders is on my watch, and I feel responsible for catching the killer. Now, tell me about your friend Judy. She seems to me like a very interesting woman. How did you get to know her?” Cal asked.

  “We were neighbors in San Francisco. My husband and I lived there before we moved here with the idea in mind to live a slower, and in his case, a healthier lifestyle. Unfortunately, it didn’t work for him, and he died from a heart attack shortly after we moved to Red Cedar. Judy had just gotten divorced from her second husband…”

  “Second husband?” Cal asked. “Tell me about them.”

  “Judy was the reigning beauty queen in a town in Kansas. She moved to Los Angeles, like so many other young, beautiful women, to become a movie star. She told me she saw the handwriting on the wall when she was sitting in a producer’s office waiting to read for a part, looked around, and every other woman in the room was as beautiful as she was. She didn’t get the part, but she got the producer. It lasted seven years.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, but she told me she got a huge divorce settlement from him. Next was an internet mogul from San Francisco. She married him and moved there. That marriage lasted until she found her husband in bed with their housekeeper. A light bulb had gone off in her head at that moment when she realized the housekeeper’s little boy bore an uncanny resemblance to her husband.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It certainly wasn’t for her husband. He instructed his attorney to give her whatever she wanted within reason, and she walked away from that marriage with another large settlement.”

  “She must have been very wealthy by then. Did she remarry?”

  “No, she said two failed marriages were enough for her, although it never stopped her from having members of the opposite sex falling all over themselves to be with her. I think of her as being kind of a ‘male magnet,’ if you will. She can’t help flirting, and men can’t help responding.”

  “Where does she live now?” Cal asked.

  “It’s really kind of a funny thing. I’m not sure Judy ever cooked a meal after she was divorced. She told me she lived on the leftovers from where she’d gone out to dinner the evening before. She visited me here at the Red Cedar Lodge and Spa several times and then lo and behold, she bought a spa and hotel in Calistoga, California. She hired a cook, among others, and both the hotel and spa are doing fabulous.”

  “I’m not surprised. She’s a very warm person who immediately makes you feel comfortable. I’m sure that helps in her business.”

  “Yes, and she’s fun. Actually, she’s helped me a couple of times when I was on the hunt for a murderer.”

  “Really, I have a hard time seeing her doing something like that.”

  “She’s very intelligent and has a lot of common sense. Well, maybe not when it comes to men. Anyway, she helped me find the murderer of one of my guests a few years ago, and just recently there was a murder in Red Cedar where voodoo was involved. She went with me to New Orleans and was a huge help.”

  “Thanks for the information. This is the Tanaka address. I called yesterday and told a woman, who I assume is Mrs. Tanaka, that I’d be coming today. Having the FBI show up unannounced is not a pleasant experience for a lot of people,” Cal said.

  “Well, hopefully we’ll find out something that will help,” Liz said as he pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine.

  CHAPTER 16

  The house in front of them was an unassuming one-sto
ry house in the small town of Ferris. The house was well kept, the grass mowed, and the shrubs neatly trimmed. It was a house that didn’t care to make a statement, but one that would rather blend in with the rest of the houses on the block, which is what it did.

  They walked up to the door and knocked. A moment later a white-haired small Asian woman opened the door and said, “Yes, may I help you?”

  “I’d like to speak with Mr. or Mrs. Tanaka. My name is Caleb Randolph. I’m with the FBI, and this is in regard to the murder of Sylvia Tanaka.”

  “Yes, you’re the one who called yesterday. I’m Mrs. Tanaka. My husband is deceased. Please come in,” she said in a heavily accented voice. Her face was lined, and her red eyes looked like tears were always close to the surface.

  They followed her into the living room and sat down. “May I get you some coffee or tea?” she asked.

  “No, thank you,” Cal and Liz said at the same time. “Mrs. Tanaka, we’re here to see if you know anything about your daughter’s murder, anything that you might have thought of since the sheriff originally talked to you.”

  “No,” she said as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t understand why anyone would have wanted to kill my daughter. I was so proud of her. To think that she was promoted to the head of the prison guards, and from a family that was at the Tule Lake Internment Camp. Her grandparents were prisoners there, and I’ve always thought that was one of the reasons she went into this type of work.”

  “You must have been very proud of her. The warden spoke highly of your daughter and said she was very well-liked by the prisoners. He said there had never been any problems because of the deep respect they held for her. Her personal effects were thoroughly examined after her death, but I’m wondering if there is something more you can tell me. Maybe something personal, like a relationship.” Cal stopped talking and looked at her.

  “Sylvia had many friends, but if you mean a male friend, there was no one special. She was a very devoted daughter, and she spent almost all of her free time when she wasn’t working at home with me.”

  “Can you think of a telephone call or something that might have come in the mail that could provide a clue?” He noticed that her eyes shifted to the left, usually a tell to a trained investigator like Cal that she remembered something.

  “No,” she said. “There was nothing.”

  “Mrs. Tanaka,” Cal said gently, “I’m not here to cause you pain. I want to find out who murdered your daughter, and I think you know something you’re not telling me. Please, no matter how insignificant you might think it is, it could be very important in solving this case, as well as preventing other people from being murdered.”

  She nervously twisted her hands together and looked out the window. The room was silent. Cal was certain she knew something. “Mrs. Tanaka, please, please tell me what you know so I can find who did this to your daughter. Help me. I believe you know something.”

  After several long moments she turned towards Cal and began to speak. “Mr. Randolph, you are familiar with the eagle, you know, the bird?”

  “Yes, but what does that have to do with your daughter’s murder?” he asked.

  Liz felt a chill go down her back and she knew that in the next few minutes Mrs. Tanaka was going to tell them about Sylvia Tanaka receiving a note.

  “I don’t know if it does. In the Japanese culture the eagle is a symbol of the great power of nature and has existed since ancient times. It’s been very powerful for my family, but not in a good way. You see my father and my mother, as I mentioned, were in the Tule Lake Internment Camp. It was not a good time. There was a lot of anger in that camp, and it often resulted in violence and protests. My father was a passive man, a gentle man. He believed in solving problems with words.” She began to cry again.

  Liz stood up and walked over to a table which held a box of Kleenex and took several tissues over to the woman. Mrs. Tanaka smiled up at her and said, “Thank you.” She wiper her eyes.

  “My father tried very hard to stop one of the men, a good friend of his, from cursing at one of the guards who was up in his tower, but he hadn’t been in time. My mother was with him and tried to distract both of the men by pointing out an eagle flying overhead, telling them that it was a good omen. It wasn’t. The guard my father’s friend had threatened thought it was my father who was the one who had yelled the epithets and shot him. My father died at the scene.”

  “I am so sorry for making you revisit these obviously painful memories,” Cal said with a pained expression on his face.

  “Mr. Randolph, even though I was in my mother’s arms, I remember nothing of it. I only know what she told me. For me the eagle did not seem like a friendly bird, powerful yes, powerful enough to kill my father, but not friendly.

  “I married Isao when I was in my late 30’s. I never expected to have a child, but when I was forty-three, I became pregnant and gave birth to Sylvia. It was a very joyous time for Isao and me. I worked as a bookkeeper, and he worked at the market in town. A number of Japanese people had settled in the area and the market catered to them. The owners were American and relied on Isao to buy the right things for the market and take care of the Japanese customers. It was a happy time in our life.”

  Oh dear, Liz thought, this is going to get worse. I know it’s going to be about the eagle.

  “The Americans sold the store to some other Americans whose son had died fighting the Japanese. They did not like Isao, and his job became very difficult. He was under a tremendous amount of stress and worried about what he would do if they got rid of him. He had no other skills and felt he was too old to go back to school.

  “One morning I kissed him goodbye before I left for work and when I got on the bus, I saw an eagle flying over our house. I knew something was going to happen, and it did. That afternoon I received a call that Isao had suffered a massive heart attack and had died on the way to the hospital.”

  “I am sorry to bring up this pain,” Cal said, “but I fail to see how these events had anything to do with Sylvia’s murder.”

  I know, Liz thought, she’s going to tell us about getting an envelope in the mail.

  “The day Sylvia was murdered, I went to the mailbox as I usually do. There was an eagle flying overhead, and my stomach clutched. I reached in the mailbox and pulled the mail out. As I walked up to the door, I sorted the mail and saw an envelope addressed to Sylvia.”

  Here it comes, Liz thought, I knew it, I just knew it.

  “It was a white envelope. I never opened Sylvia’s mail, but the eagle made me nervous, and I did open it. Inside was a piece of paper with an eagle on it and some slanted mark had been crossed through it. Below the eagle were the words ‘You Are Next.’ The letters forming the words were cut from a magazine or a newspaper. I got the call from the warden about Sylvia an hour later.” She turned and looked directly at Cal. “Mr. Randolph, do you know what that means?”

  Cal was quiet for several moments, then he said, “I don’t know what the meaning is, but several other people have received the same message. When I find out what it means, I’ll be able to find out who sent it. Mrs. Tanaka, I promise you that I will find the person who murdered your daughter. Do you still have the note?”

  “I didn’t tell anyone else about it because I would lose honor. You see the eagle is a very important symbol for the Japanese, a positive symbol, but not for my family. If people knew that the eagle had let loose its negativity on my family, I would be shunned. Now that everyone I have ever loved is gone, I can’t risk that. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Tanaka, I do. Again, I’m so sorry for the pain this conversation has caused you. Thank you for sharing these difficult memories, and when I find this monster, the person who killed your daughter and many others, believe me, the curse will be lifted for all time. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take the note and envelope with me as evidence.”

  “It’s too late, Mr. Randolph. I am the last survivor of our proud Tanaka family. The
re are no more of us. The eagle won. I burned it.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Cal and Liz got into his car, neither saying a word. Finally, Cal spoke, “I took a job with the FBI because I thought I could make a difference, and I’d like to think I have. But after an interview like this last one, no matter how hard I work or how many cases I solve, it will never make up for what Mrs. Tanaka has gone through. That’s one of the most difficult ones I’ve ever done.”

  “I’m with you. I can’t believe how tragic some people’s lives are. I thought my life was over when my husband died, but what I went through is nothing like what that poor woman has endured.”

  “Yes. I felt the same way when my wife left me. She couldn’t take the uncertainty of the life expectancy and randomness of being married to an FBI agent. But like you, that was nothing compared to that poor woman. I would like nothing more than to never have to deal with another relative of a victim, but I know that’s a pipe dream. That’s the least I can do for the victim’s loved ones.”

  “I’m guessing from that statement that we’ll be talking to Red Patterson’s family this afternoon. Are we going to the house after we go to Forest Service office?” Liz asked.

  “No, his mother, Mrs. Patterson, is going to meet us at the office. When I talked to her, she told me she wanted to pick up his personal effects and it made sense to meet there.”

  “Tell you what. We could both use a dose of my friend Gertie. She’s the resident character in this part of the country, and I can practically guarantee you that you’ll feel better after you meet her, plus you’ll get the best chocolate shake and hamburger you’ll ever eat at her diner.”

  “Think Roger mentioned her to me. I believe his office is next door and one time when we were having lunch, he told me that his landlady was personally responsible for his having gained ten pounds.”