by C. Meyer
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters portrayed herein to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
The story and cover are copyrights of Charles H. Meyer. All rights are reserved. Any commercial reproduction without the explicit written permission of Charles H. Meyer or his agent is strictly prohibited by Federal Law.
This book is dedicated to Donna and her friends who inspired it.
THE PINERA BREAD MURDERS
By C. H. Meyer
Table of Contents
FOREWORD
Please to not be confused.
The brilliant detective in these linked stories is one Charlie Chang. Chief Inspector Chang was born in Shanghai, China in 1946. He is the son of a since deceased Chief of Police of Shanghai. Chang’s father hoped that he would follow in his footsteps as a police officer.
On the other hand, Charlie Chan is a fictional character created by Earl Derr Biggers in 1919. He was a very popular detective in books and on the silver screen in 1946.
It’s not surprising that the elder Chang, an inveterate Charlie Chan fan, named his new son, Charlie. Indeed, the young man did rise to the rank of Captain in Shanghai and solved many cases involving homicide. Unfortunately for Chang’s career in Shanghai, he was a sophisticated multi-lingual man with western values and a liking for things American. This did not set well in Mao’s China.
Fearing “re-education” or worse by the authorities, Police Captain Charlie Chang and his new bride sought asylum in the United States. They settled in Seattle. Happily, Charlie found a welcome home in the Seattle Police Department where he rose to the rank of Chief Inspector before retiring to consult with the many friends and acquaintances he’d made over the years in matters relating to homicide.
Many may think that Chang rather closely resembles Charlie Chan. This is not surprising - though there are differences. Charlie Chan was created by Derr Biggers as a heroic alternative to a negative Chinese stereotype popular in Derr Biggers’ day. Chang is a real hero. Also, one shouldn’t be surprised if Chang - also a fan of Charlie Chan movies - took pains to model himself after the best of the fictional Charlie Chan’s characteristics.
NOTE: As the result of these cases, Dana La Blonde and Betty Chang, Charlie’s adult daughter do the unlikely. They form a detective agency based in Dana’s Boca mansion. Their cases are often serious but their manner and that of some of their friends are often quite humorous. Look for the titles of these very light comedic mystery adventures at the back of this book.
Martine, was pleased to have a very merry party of five at Delice Paradise tonight. Parties of five were not unusual at her boutique French restaurant in chic Coral Springs. The place was charming, the prices reasonable, and as many snowbirds from New York had said, the food was to die for. Martine from Haiti and her husband, Christophe from Paris both by way of many years in The Islands had created a gastronomic paradise in a somewhat upscale but also somewhat ordinary shopping center in this now trendy town once a Westinghouse company town. Those days were long gone as was Westinghouse.
The special pleasure was Coral Springs Chief Inspector Marks, the county medical examiner, Doctor Lytle, and a well-known guest from Seattle with his number one and two sons plus his number one daughter.
“I hope everything is to your liking.” smiled Martine to none of them in particular.
“Most enjoyable. I must bring honorable wife here before we return to Seattle.” Responded the mildly overweight gentleman in his trademark white suit.
“Yea, even those snails are pretty good once you get use to their creepy looks.” piped in the tall, slim Number one son, Tommy.
Martine, smiled and walked away.
“Speaking of your better half, Charlie, I’m disappointed she couldn’t join us tonight.”, offered the very black and very large Inspector Marks in his deep sonorous voice which still contained just a hint of his rural Southern roots. Marks was a very big man not to be confused with an overweight man. While he weighed in at close to three hundred pounds, his broad shoulders and six foot eight frame were still solid muscle more than twenty years after his football days at Florida State.
“So sorry, Calvin, honorable wife and number two daughter apparently are lost at largest flea market in Florida. Hopefully, they will join us for one of Martine’s delightful deserts and coffee.”
Conversation and laughter proceeded between bites as the group dug into their delicious entrees and sipped a wonderfully fruity house red. They were just about to think about what dessert they might order when one of Coral Springs designer motif squad cars pulled up onto the sidewalk in front of Delice. It produced a rather good looking officer with a mission who quickly entered and approached the diners.
“Sorry to bother you, Inspector, but the chief asked me to come by. There has been a death at Pinera Bread over on State Road 7. One of a group of writers and poets holding some sort of critique session dropped dead at the group’s table. There are reasons to think this person was poisoned.”
“Thanks Brenda.” returned Inspector Marks, “The food at Pinera’s isn’t as good as here, but it’s never killed anyone before…… Suppose anyone could have a motive to kill a writer or a poet.”, he speculated ironically in his laconic drawl. “Looks like our desserts will be bear claws at Pinera’s, doctor Lytle. You’re welcome to come along too Charlie if you’re interested. They are not up to Martine’s tarts but quite delicious.”
Charlie loved nothing more than a busman’s holiday and was already hearing a chorus of “Can we come too, pop?” from his kids who really weren’t kids anymore. He looked at Inspector Marks and got a “why not” look in return.
“Charlie, why don’t you and I ride with Brenda? Your cheering section can ride with Doctor Lytle.”
--------------
Inspector Marks was the first to arrive at Pinera’s. He counted seven Coral Springs Police cruisers pulled up in front of the suburban eatery in his town noted for its low rate of violent crime.
“A lot of backup for a dead poet, eh Charlie”, he joked as they approached the yellow tape sealing off the restaurant from the rest of humanity. “Hope the rest of the town doesn’t need any cops for a bit.”
“Most thorough, Inspector”, returned Charlie with a hint of an ironic smile.
Once inside they observed a nearly empty restaurant with eight or ten middle aged to older men and women milling around under the watch of three uniformed officers. The object of their visit a youngish woman clearly attractive even in death was lying face down at a long table at one side of the room. A Pinera’s coffee mug was still tightly gripped in her hand.
Both men observed the milling group quietly as Doctor Lytle arrived and checked the dead woman’s pulse. He then bent over to sniff the mug she was holding in her death grip.
“She is dead all right. Must have been fast given the way she is still gripping that mug. Not cyanide though. No hint of hint of almonds, but there is a very odd very sweet smell to her mug – a bit like an over-ripe banana.” he offered as he motioned to one of the uniform officers to bag the cup. ”Get some of that spilled coffee too”, he added.
“From the volume of the coffee on the table and the floor, she hardly touched her coffee. Must have been powerful stuff in it if that’s what killed her.”, he said quietly to the Inspector and Charlie. “Also that distinct smell of bananas. Not the thing one would expect from a mug of coffee.”
Please to note bright red and blue marks on woman’s face and hands. Very strange. No doctor?”
Strange indeed, Charlie. Doesn’t conform to anyt
hing with which I’m familiar. And she is already stiff as a board. Far too soon for rigamortis to have set in. This wasn’t a natural death.”
Several detectives had arrived and were taking pictures and dusting the table and the area around the coffee dispensers. Inspector Marks oversaw their work while Charlie studied the group of milling writers and poets. He noticed where each focused his or her attention. He made a mental note of who seemed calm, who seemed agitated, and who spoke to whom. He also took note of the staff all clustered behind the counter watched over by two uniforms. Oddly, he thought, they seemed more agitated than the dead woman’s fellow group members. One woman was crying. Another had her arm around the crying woman’s shoulders and seemed to be trying to comfort her. An older male worker just looked angry. He seemed mad as hell from his expression.
Suggest, Calvin, we may want to start our conversations with angry man. The Inspector followed Charlie’s gaze and nodded. Suppose he’s as good as any, but my bet is he’s the manager and mad because this is bad for business.
The Coral Springs Police and medics were efficient. Crime scene evidence was soon gathered and the body of the deceased removed. Doctor Lytle left after telling the Inspector he’d be back after the autopsy and whatever lab work he could get done quickly. It was only then that the Inspector spoke to the group.
“Folks, I am sorry for the loss of your fellow group member. The circumstances are suspicious. I am going to have to ask you to remain here with me till I’ve asked each of you some questions. This may take a while. Inspector Chang from the Seattle police will be helping me in this inquiry. Now if you would, please take your places exactly where you were when this terrible death occurred.
With some hesitation and after some prodding by the Inspector seven of the nine resumed their seats at the long table. However, a large black man with rather short dreadlocks groomed more in the fashion of a Japanese samurai than an Island man and an older slim waspish looking woman remained standing halfway between the coffee urns and the table.
“We had both just got some coffee on the break and were returning to the table when she shrieked and dropped down dead.” answered the older woman to the Inspector’s questioning gaze.
“Okay, please take the seats you had before getting your coffee.” the Inspector replied then added. “Did either of you drink any of your coffee?”
“I took a few sips.” replied the woman.
“Me too” chimed in the man.
“How do each of you take you coffee and what kind?”
“I do the Hazelnut – black, of course.” with the hint of a smile said the big black man.
“I’m a decaffeinated person. Can’t take caffeine late at night you know. I use skim milk and two Equal.” replied the woman.
“Anyone know how the deceased took her coffee tonight?” asked the Inspector as he turned toward the group.
A big bosomed woman at the center of the table volunteered, “Maria loved Hazelnut and always drank it black with some Equal.”
“And you are?”
“Isabel, I am the group leader.”
“Thank you, Isabel. We’ll talk some more a bit later.
“Honorable big breasted lady eager to please and knew victim well”, whispered Charlie to his friend.
The other two were taking their seats as Inspector Marks replied quietly to Charlie,
“I noted that too though also notice that there were two people sitting between Isabel and the dead woman, Maria. My people will check out the coffees etcetera to be sure, but it looks like someone must have slipped the poison to that dead woman after she got it. ”
“Gives many candidates for witnesses.” remarked Charlie.
“Be patient with us folks. We’ve got a lot of people with whom to speak. You can use your cell phones to call home to let your people know you’re alright but delayed. However, I would strongly suggest you don’t try to eat or drink anything.” announced the Inspector. Then to Charlie, “Let’s go see what the angry man has to say.”
-------------
Charlie and the Inspector had taken seats at a table on the far side of the secondary dining room out of sight of the primary dining and serving area. A detective showed in the man and took a seat behind him.
“I am Inspector Marks and this is my colleague Inspector Chang. You are, please?”
“I am Carl Dulop. I run this place.”
“Anything you want to tell us, Mr. Dulop?”
“Yea, I hope you guys get the hell out of here damn soon so I can start making this joint pay. I’m on incentive you know.”
Chang caught Inspector Marks eye and gave a subtle nod of acknowledgement.
Dulop denied knowing the dead woman and seemed to know nothing more of value so the Inspector gave him back to Detective Krum asking Krum to be sure to get all of Dulop’s ID and contact information and have someone else bring in the next person.
“What the fuck do you need that for Inspector. I’m not involved. Didn’t even know the bitch.
“It’s just routine Mr. Dunlop. We’ll be getting such information from everyone.
Most of the other staff interviews were pretty vanilla. Most were young kids. Some recognized the deceased others had never noticed her before. However, a server named Jeanie, the young woman who had been crying, knew her full name.
“Yes, her name is Maria Rodriguez. She worked for the state as a court reporter. She always dreamed of writing a great novel and becoming famous. I think she and Mr. Dulop had a thing about a year ago. I saw them together one night at Lips in Lauderdale. I don’t think he knows what I saw.”
“Were they still involved if you know?”
“I don’t think so. I never told either what I’d seen or Maria never mentioned him and….”
“Yes, and. What else?”
“Maria used to come in here quite often for coffee as well as with her writers group. She was very close to Isabel who runs the group you know.”
“And Mr. Dulop?”
“They always acted as if they didn’t know each other. I never heard them speak though several times I saw Mr. Dulop give her that angry look he gets when one of us makes a mistake. I never asked him about it. He’s the boss and it’s none of my business. It wasn’t as if he did anything to her…” tears and sobs returned before she could continue. In time she resumed. “He just gave her his evil eye. I’m not sure she even noticed.”
After her no one knew much of anything except a Dominica who confirmed seeing Dulop give this female customer a hateful look. She had no idea why he would look at a customer so. She said, “I thought he saved his anger for us employees.”
“Was he angry often?”
“Kinda on a regular basis. I saw him slap one of the cooks once. Another time he called me a stupid bitch when my register didn’t balance.”
-----------
Chang appeared to be dozing though Chang can be a deceptive man, when the Inspector asked Detective Jackson to bring in Isabel, the leader of the Write Stuff writing group.
Jackson did as he was told and took a seat behind her.
“Welcome to my discussion group” Isabel said the Inspector partially rising from his seat.
“Hope you don’t charge five dollars, Inspector.” returned Isabel catching the whit of his welcome.
“You charge five dollars to attend your group?”
“Yes five dollars a week, Inspector, and no one is behind. So that rules out any financial motive for me.” She countered continuing the jocular mood Marks had started.
“So, as leader you know a bit about everyone?
“A little about all - like their names, emails, and writing interests. A modest amount about others. I only know a very few that have been coming a long while fairly well. We have a lot of members and many don’t show up often. We also get a regular stream of new members like Charlie and Debbie.
“Are you aware of any personal problems between Maria and any of the others or among any of the others?”
/>
“Not really. I suppose some may socialize but don’t know any specifics. At group we concentrate on presenting our writing and critiquing one another. That doesn’t mean criticize mind you. It means helpfully commenting on each other’s works in progress. We put an emphasis on cordiality.”
“Tell me a little about each of the members that were here tonight, please.”
“Honestly, I don’t know much beyond their contact information and their writing interests.”
“Any strange or morbid writing interests?”
“Not really. A couple self-help types, a slew of murder mystery writers, a guy with some baseball race relations story and a couple like me – poets.”
“Murder a popular subject with your people huh?”
“Sure. Is that so unusual? Violence and murder are very popular subjects with many writers and film makers.”
“And with my police colleagues too.” commented the Inspector. Adding with an ironic smile, “But not here in Coral Springs thank you.”
“Which of the members do you know well?”
“Well, I knew Maria quite well. She was a lovely woman and a Cuban immigrant like me. Then there is Patricia. She is a good friend and part of our Cuban mafia… perhaps a bad choice of words in the present circumstances. Better said there are several of us with Cuban roots. Patricia is writing a wonderful autobiographical book about growing up and beating depression. She has amazing self-insight. We three, Maria, Patricia, and I are good friends outside the group as well. Then there is my fellow poetess, Gina. She is a Cuban too but we are not close. She writes with much feeling.”
“I’ve reason to believe Maria was on close terms with this store’s manager. Know anything about that?” queried the Inspector.
You mean Carl?
Marks nodded.
“Is this some sick police trick? I make no secret of it. I am a free woman. Carl and I have been involved for the last three years.”