by C. Meyer
Did Maria know of this?
“I really don’t know. It’s not a secret but I don’t exactly broadcast it to the world. Friends may have told her, but I never did and she never mentioned it. Mostly we talked about our poetry and our love for Cuba and America. We’re not some petty stereotype of women you may have with nothing to discuss but men. We also shared a love of music and dance.”
So you know nothing of a romantic relationship between Carl and Maria?” the Inspector asked the angered woman.
“Most certainly not!” returned Mari angrily. “I would have killed the both of them if there was such. ……Oops. That’s just a figure of speech. Sorry.”
“Please forgive stereotype but often is kernel of truth in same.” ventured Chang, “Would you say you and Maria passionate Latin woman?”
I resent that Mister … I mean Inspector Chang. We are both passionate in our writing and in the love of our twin countries and perhaps in with regard to many things but were not cheap dime store sluts comparing or fighting over our men. In fact, I think Maria preferred to be alone. She was a very private person.
The interview continued for quite a while.
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Carl Forrester was next. He seemed a mild mannered man. He spoke in a soft voice further softened by a recent stroke though he was a relatively young man. Carl was clearly seemed a sensitive man noticeably upset by the death of Maria though he claimed to know nothing of her beyond the Write Stuff.
The two inspectors tried to rattle him with invention but Carl kept his calm and always returned to his faith in the need for a better understanding between the races and his beloved CYO baseball team of his youth. Marks actually took a liking to the man and rather unprofessionally let the interview degenerate into a discussion of baseball for a time. Marks felt Willie Mays the greatest player ever while Carl stuck with Jackie Robinson.
Kathy Rankles was the next person in the hot seat. The older woman who herself had a series of murder mysteries in print said she had got to know Maria reasonably well in group. Kathy said she admired her as a talented burgeoning writer of political thrillers. However, she claimed to never have any contact with her beyond the group.
Kathy also had plenty of imaginative theories on how the murder had been done. All seemed a bit farfetched to the two hardboiled inspectors. None could be matched to the facts they had but Kathy didn’t nor to what the others had claimed to have seen at the meeting. The latter, unfortunately for the cause of justice, was little very unusual in every interview so far.
One thing Kathy said struck a chord. “Maria’s characters and plotting was wonderful, but I thought her a bit soft on Castro for my taste.”
Pro-Castro asked Chang?
No not really laughed Kathy. That sort of thing could get someone killed in this group of Cuba “Libertes”. It is just that her work showed the Castro regime as more humane than I’d like and she seemed to see some merit in some aspects of socialism which I despise.
“How did these “Libertes” as you call them react to her writing?
“Not violently if that is what you mean. Perhaps an occasional sarcastic or challenging word but nothing beyond that. They seemed good friends with their love of Cuba being their common bond not a cause for division.”
Kathy tried turning the tables on the Inspectors. “Have you found the murder weapon yet? Inspector George always looks for the weapon to lead him to the villain.”
“Inspector George?” asked a mystified Marks.
“Oh he’s my fictional version of you two in my Inspector George mystery series. I suppose I was really just asking you about what I’d be looking for.”
“You quite the detective, Ms. Rankles, smiled Charlie. In fact, police now searching every nook, cranny and trash can for weapon or any other kind of clue. I believe Inspector Marks has allowed my honorable Number One Son and Number Two daughter to give them hand. They have own PI firm in Seattle. Am most proud of my diligent searchers. They sometimes most helpful in Seattle.”
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Charlie and Debbie both proved unlikely candidates for villain and villainess even though Charlie had been seated next to Maria when she died. Both were newbies to the group who didn’t even know Maria’ first name till after her death.
“And you are?” inquired the Inspector of the large black man with the Samurai styled dreadlocks being escorted in. His would be the final interview.
“Trey Johnston, sir”
“I take it you are Japanese, started Marks with the hint of a wink.”
“Spent a lot of time there, but I’m as black as you, Inspector.” smiled the youngish man well aware he was being teased.
“South Carolina for me, son”
“Georgia here, Inspector”
“Did you know the deceased, Trey?”
“Pretty well actually. We were friends before the group. Actually, it was Maria who told me about the group. I’m going to miss her.”, he continued his voice cracking slightly.
“Close friends?”
“You might say that. We were intimate for a time but that was in the past.”
“But you remained friends?”
“Yes sir, it wasn’t a deep love affair. More like friends with benefits ya know. Then she found another guy she was kinda keen on. I warned her it was a bad idea as the guy was married.”
“You knew him?”
“Knew who he was but never met him – at least not through Maria. To know him is to dislike him kinda guy. I’m pretty astute about people. This guy was one angry dude inside.”
“You know his name then?”
“Yes sir, it’s Carl Dulop, the manager at this place. Did you see him earlier? Looked like Mt Fuji was erupting inside him. I’m sure he wasn’t mad about Maria’s death. They hadn’t been speaking for almost a year. More likely he was mad because a murder here is bad for business.”
Chang was taken aback by Trey’s on target hunch. “You are most astute, Trey.”
“Yes, Inspector Chang”, replied the big man with a broad grin, “So I often have been told.”
“What kind of work do you do, Trey”, inquired Marks.
“Government work, sir.”
“Care to be more forthcoming, Mr. Johnston? This is a murder investigation.”
“I’m more or less between assignments, sir.”
“That something like unemployed?”
“No, sir.”
“Please be more forthcoming. This is a serious matter and you knew the victim quite well.”
“I work for the State Department, sir. I was a cultural attaché in Tokyo till recently. My family now lives in Parkland so I get back here fairly often and like I said right now I’m between assignments.”
Marks knew the posh town of Parkland which adjoined Coral Springs well.
“You are not exactly a Georgia farm boy are you?”
“No sir. My dad was a professor of English Literature at the University of Georgia and writes under the name Derek Moss. You may have read some of his books – mostly “who done its” Now he teaches some at Nova and mostly writes. I’m a graduate of Notre Dame with a Journalism Degree.”
“So you were a spook in Japan.”
“Of course not, sir. As I said I was a cultural attaché.”
Marks knew better than to pursue that line of questioning further and switched to asking Trey what he could tell them about Maria. At first, Trey was if anything more evasive on that line of questions than the earlier one.
“Most strange. Young man has sometimes intimate friendship with young woman but knows so little about her.”, interjected Chang. “Confucius would say Cheese is rotten in Canton.”
There was a long pause as the three men stared at one another. Finally Trey broke the silence.
“Yes, I know more – much more. Normally I would keep my mouth shut but with Maria murdered it’s going to come out sooner or later anyway.”
“Am all ears.”
“I got to know Mari
a through friends the normal way. I really liked her though I knew her politics to be rather left. However from what I knew of her, not anything to worry about. When you work for my branch of the government your personal life isn’t personal if you know what I mean. People in Washington got interested in Maria. They knew we were close and had a long long talk with me about her. I cleared myself of anything that she was in which she was involved that concerned them and got a new part-time job in return. I have been keeping an eye on Maria for our uncle.”
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Soon after the last interview Doctor Lytle returned.
“Find out anything interesting, Jeremy”, inquired the Inspector.
“We confirmed she was dead.” Replied the doctor with a wry smile. “Beyond that it’s conjecture at the moment I am afraid.”
“Conjecture? How so please?” interjected Chang.
“We searched the Nation Poison Data base and came up with an obscure poison appropriately called Fina. It was once used by Peruvian Indians and is known for its strong scent of bananas. Not a popular murder weapon both because it’s largely unknown and its strong scent is difficult to mask. It’s strong stuff. A small amount shuts down all organ functions in a minute or less. A painful death…”
“The dead woman’s shriek”, interrupted Chang.
“Yes that.” replied the doctor, “And this painful death is almost immediate. Post mortem the muscles too freeze in place within minutes. The scent and the symptoms certainly seem to match this Fina stuff. However, it will take a couple days to get the lab work back on the dead woman’s tissue to confirm it’s what killed her. I’m sure not betting it won’t.
“Anything else?” asked Detective MacArthur Hornstein who had just returned from the forensics lab.
“Not really, Mac. No sign of any prior serious health condition or disease. This woman was definitely poisoned.”
“What do you have for us Mac?” asked the Inspector.
“Quite a bit actually.” he replied, “The good news is that there were two sets of prints on that mug. The dead woman’s were very clear. The bad news is the other consisted of a single rather large rather obscure print. Likely, the thumb print of a big man. Too blurred though. We could never tie it to anyone.”
“Not good”, interrupted Marks.
“Yea, disappointing. Hell no one ever said forensics is easy. However running those names brought up some interesting stuff. Most as you’d expect were clean without any serious blemishes. However, three had something interesting about them. The first is probably nothing but Isabel has a couple priors for disturbing the peace. They relate to some sit in stuff and a scuffle at a Cuba Libre rally.
The second is mystifying as hell. As far as we can see Trey Johnston doesn’t exist beyond his driver’s license. His folks exist and are as described, but the records only indicate they had three daughters. Also that address on his license doesn’t exist. Pretty damn strange. No?”
“Yes but not necessarily incriminating. For your ears only, he effectively admitted to being a spook after you left. We’ll need a subpoena to check that one out and will, of course”, responded the Marks while thinking to himself, “The State Department is more thorough than I realized.” before asking, “You said three. What’s the other?”
“This Dulop guy wasn’t always Dulop. About a year ago he changed his name from Carlos Ortega to Carl Dulop.”
“Any idea why?”
“Oh yea. This is where it gets muy interestante. As Ortega, he served some time in Franklin for an Aggravated Assault and Battery. But even more interesting there was an attempted rape complaint filed against him by one Maria Rodrigues a bit over a year ago. It was later withdrawn, but we looked into the circumstances. Apparently it occurred after a date with her at Lips. The credit card records show both of them paid separately. Looks to me like Maria considered their get together less than a date but Ortega wanted to take it farther than she did.”
“Wow! That gives us a likely bad guy and a motive but no evidence that would stand up in court.”
“Any interesting trash, Detective”, queried Chang.
“No just the usual dirty cups, napkins, and stuff though a used Trojan was a bit a bit unexpected find. They are still running the coffee in the urns as well as the milks, sugars, and sweeteners, but initial results turned up nothing. Here is the unexpected. No trace of poison what so ever in the coffee from the mug. That odor was from some trace amounts of something on the rim of the mug the Doctor smelled.”
“That brought a collective look of amazement to all faces.”
“Are you sure?” asked Marks after a minute’s thought.
“Are the people in my lab ever sloppy, Cal?
“Pops, Betty and I found something very interesting our police colleagues missed” interjected a rather excited Number One son who had arrived just as Hornstein was wrapping up.
“What would that be?” asked Marks somewhat impatiently. He didn’t like to hear his men had missed something.
“A pen.”
“You find discarded pen interesting?” challenged Chang.
“Yep Pop. This one was taped under a table in a booth near the serving area check out. Not the way people generally throw away a used up pen.” returned the Number One Son.
“Most true. You carefully bagged same, my diligent searchers?” said Chang with the beginning of a smile.
“You bet, pop.” Interjected Number Two daughter. Never touched it. We even used tweezers to pry of the tape from the table.”
Perhaps the people at your forensics lab will find pen mightier than sword, Detective Hornstein.”
Hornstein was off with the bagged pen and tape without a word of good bye.
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The police had cleared a significant area of the restaurant of tables. In their place they had arranged two circles of chairs per the instructions of the two inspectors. A third row of chairs were arranged for the Inspectors the doctor and several of the detectives and uniforms.
Chang, Marks, and Doctor Lytle huddled for a good ten minutes after Hornstein had left. Much of the discussion centered on getting the ever angry Dulop/Ortega to incriminate himself.
At discussion’s end, Marks concluded. “Okay Charlie, you’ve convinced me. I’ll get them in their places. You take the lead in speaking with them.”
“Okay folks we’re about ready to wrap things up.”, he announced in a booming voice that could be heard by everyone. “I want the writers and poets in the inner circle of chairs. Please sit next to the ones you’re now seated next to. The staff – all the staff -- will please take seats in the outer circle. The police will take the seats in the line of chairs except for two uniforms who will please take seats behind and on the opposite side of the circle from the police chairs.
This shouldn’t take too long. Hopefully, once we’ve had our group chat, most of you can go home to your families or back on patrol.” Then he concluded Iaconically. “Inspector Chang will be you group leader for this evening.”
In time, the group of writers, poets, and cops was arranged as requested. Chang rose from his seat and walked around the outer circle making and momentarily holding eye contact with each person. He paused for a minute to reflect once he’d done this then began.