She was thinking about complaining to her supplier, who’d told her the results would be the same, when her dad darted in, came up behind her, scooped up a taste from the bowl with the icing in it, and ate it.
“Stop that,” Libby ordered.
Sean grinned. “But it’s so good, it’s hard to resist.”
“I wish it looked better.”
“It looks fine,” Sean assured his daughter as he finished licking the teaspoon. “And it tastes even better. After all, as your mom used to say, ‘The proof is in the eating.’”
“Yeah. But Mom didn’t have the Food Channel to contend with.”
“True,” Sean allowed as he stared wistfully at the icing.
“You can have the bowl when I’m done,” Libby told him, and then she told her dad what she’d found out from Ramona.
“Interesting,” Sean said. “Maybe that’s not the best motive, but it’s certainly up there. If someone had done something like that to you, I’d want to kill them.”
“Kill who?” Bernie asked as she stepped into the kitchen.
Libby explained.
“I guess it’s a motive,” Bernie said as she poured herself a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar.
Libby drew her spatula across the icing on top of the cake to even it out. “Amber said Madison’s dad was livid when he found out. Timberland wanted to press charges, but his wife told him she’d divorce him if he did. Of course, she left him, anyway.”
“And this was how long ago?” Sean asked.
“A couple of years,” said Libby.
Sean put the spoon in the sink. “So once more we come to the question, why now?”
“Opportunity?” Bernie said.
Sean shook his head. “That might apply to Bob Small, but not to Timberland. At least not as far as I can see.”
“None of this makes any sense,” Libby complained.
“We’re missing information,” Sean said. “We have too much on the one hand and not enough on the other.”
Bernie flicked a piece of lint from her turtleneck sweater. “And what about Banks’s murder?”
“The one that doesn’t have anything to do with Amethyst’s?” her dad said.
“Yes. That one,” said Bernie.
“We have even less on that one. Except for the fact that Amethyst was going to go see him, we have nothing to link the two events,” said Sean.
Libby put her spatula down.
“It’s kind of like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle blindfolded,” said Sean.
“Good analogy,” Bernie said, and she leaned over and gave her dad a peck on the cheek. “I’m off to check something at the historical society, and then I’m going to see if I can talk to Inez.”
“When will you be back?” Libby asked.
“In a couple of hours,” said Bernie as she eyed her sister’s baggy sweatpants and stretched-out T-shirt. “Is that what you wore to yoga class?”
Libby put her hands on her hips. “So what if it is?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Bernie mumbled.
“But you were thinking it,” said Libby.
“What was I thinking?” Bernie asked.
“That I look like a mess,” said Libby.
“You’re always so defensive,” Bernie protested.
The comment only made Libby more annoyed, because it was true. She was. But Bernie couldn’t possibly understand how she felt. She always looked perfect. Then, to make things worse, Bernie reached over and patted her sister on the shoulder. “We’ll find you a nice costume for tonight.”
Like I’m a little kid, Libby thought resentfully. “I am not going as a bowl of cereal!”
“That was a joke,” Bernie insisted.
“It didn’t sound like a joke to me,” Libby told her.
“Well, it was,” said Bernie. She took a sip of her coffee and walked toward the door. “Wish me luck,” she called.
As Sean watched her go, he wanted to tell her that he’d changed his mind and she didn’t need to go to the historical society, after all. Then he realized that her visit didn’t preclude his later in the day. He could ask Jeanine about the stills on the View-Master Bernie had been handed by Felicity Huffer. Somehow he felt better. He was thinking about why that was when a horn beeped outside. His ride was here. It was time to go.
“That must be Marvin,” Sean informed his daughter as he put on his rain jacket. “We’re off to talk to Bob Small.”
Libby reached over and gave her dad two cinnamon spice cupcakes with mocha icing. “For the road,” she said.
Sean handed one to Marvin as soon as he got in the car. “Eat it now,” he instructed.
The idea of Marvin eating and driving at the same time didn’t bear thinking about. When Marvin was done, Sean said, “Bob Small’s house.”
Marvin turned to him. “And that would be where?”
“I thought you were supposed to look up the address.”
“I thought you were.”
“How would I know where he’s living?”
“I thought you knew everything.”
Sean glared at Marvin for a moment. A year ago he would never have said something like that. He was definitely getting entirely too comfortable. When Sean judged that he’d conveyed his displeasure, he reached for his cell phone. Ten minutes later, he’d gotten the address from Clyde. As Marvin pulled away from the curb, Sean realized that he’d forgotten to bring the tapes that Konrad and Curtis had brought him. He was annoyed with himself, but not so annoyed that he was going to go back and get them.
According to Clyde, Bob Small was renting a place on the outskirts of Longely, about two blocks away from the train station—which was as slummy an area as Longely possessed. It was damp and chilly in the car, and Sean wished Marvin would put the heat on, but he wasn’t going to ask because, one, he was still annoyed with him and, two, that would be admitting he was cold. Instead, he concentrated on the scenery going by. Every other house had a skeleton hanging in the window or a group of tombstones in the yard.
They looked sad in the rain, Sean thought. The day was dark and gloomy, making them appear as if they were in a netherworld. He was still thinking that when they got to Bob Small’s house. The word that occurred to him when he saw it was shack. It had taken Marvin a moment to find it because it was hidden in the alley behind the dry cleaners. The place was a two-story house covered in asphalt shingles. A blue tarp was tied around the front part of the roof, presumably to fend off leaks. If there had ever been paint on the windowsills and the doors, it had vanished a long time ago.
As Sean studied the place, he couldn’t help thinking of Bob’s former house. It had been a good-sized Colonial on a half acre of carefully tended lawn, with a swimming pool and a gazebo and a four-car garage. And then there had been the wife and the two kids that had lived in that house, not to mention the two golden retrievers. As Bernie would say, Bob had had the sweet life, and now, because of Amethyst, he had nothing. The woman had cost Bob Small everything that had mattered. If there was a better motive for murder, Sean couldn’t think of one.
“What are you thinking?” Marvin asked as he brought his car to a stop in front of the house.
“I’m thinking that if I had to live here, I would want to kill the person who put me here.” Sean nodded at the van parked by the side of the house. “It looks as if the Kurtz boys are here.”
“You want to come back another time?” Marvin asked.
Sean shook his head. “No. No. It’ll be fine.”
“Your call,” Marvin said as he turned off his vehicle and pocketed the key. “Tell me, do you believe in Bessie at all?”
Sean laughed. “People keep asking me that, and I keep saying I don’t, but I gotta tell you, the way things are progressing, she could just as easily have done this as anyone else. How about you?”
“No ghosts for me.”
But there was something about the way Marvin said it that made Sean turn and look at him. “Is there s
omething you’re not telling me?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Marvin said and got out of the car.
Sean watched Marvin go around the car to help him out. He wasn’t convinced that Marvin was telling him the truth, but he decided to let it go for now. At that moment he had to concentrate on getting from the car to the top of the steps. The ground leading to the steps looked uneven, and it was probably more so because of the rain. In addition, the two steps up to Bob Small’s apartment were sagging in the middle, and there was no banister to hang on to.
This is what he hated more than anything, he reflected as Marvin helped him out of the car. Being dependent on someone. Sometimes things were okay, and other times they weren’t, and the hell of it was he never knew what was going to happen. He shook off those thoughts. They were of no use whatsoever. He should take a leaf from Rose’s book and look on the bright side of things. Of course, if he could do that, Sean concluded, he wouldn’t have been a cop. Cops never looked on the bright side of things. They were paid to be suspicious.
He was just thinking about where to put his foot on the step when the door flew open. “See,” Curtis Kurtz said to Bob Small. “I told you, you didn’t have to call him. I told you he’d be here.” He turned to Sean. “We have more recordings. Bessie lied the last time. Remember she said she did it. Only she didn’t. She just said that because she wanted to.”
Sean made the second step. “I didn’t know that ghosts lied.”
“Ghosts do and feel everything that people do,” Curtis told him.
“I didn’t realize that. So who did it?” Sean asked as Konrad Kurtz closed the door and took their rain gear.
“She’s not telling us yet,” Konrad said and hung the rain gear up on two pegs sprouting out of the hall wall. “But don’t you worry. We have a few tricks up our sleeve. We’ll get it out of her. Also, we have her new recordings. You can hear for yourself.”
Sean looked from one brother to the other. “You know, guys,” he said, “what I really need is a large coffee and two chocolate glazed doughnuts from Dunkin’ Donuts. It’ll help me concentrate better.”
Sean watched Curtis and Konrad exchange glances.
“That’s a ways away,” Konrad said.
“Fifteen minutes,” Sean said.
“Maybe twenty with construction,” Curtis corrected.
“Each way,” Konrad added. “That’s forty minutes.”
Sean smiled. “Which would be the amount of time I need to talk to Bob.”
“Oh,” said Konrad. “Why didn’t you say that?”
“I just did,” said Sean.
Curtis frowned. “So you don’t want to listen to the tapes?”
“I do,” Sean said. “But let’s listen to them when you come back.”
“Do you really want the coffee?” Konrad asked.
Sean thought for a moment. “If it’s not too much trouble, I do. And change the chocolate glazed to maple frosted doughnuts.”
“You got it,” Konrad said.
As Marvin and Bob gave their orders to Curtis and Konrad, Sean took a quick look around the living room. The place was just as depressing on the inside as it was on the outside. It smelled of old clothes, garbage that needed to be taken out, and rotting wood mixed with a faint undertone of cat urine. Two of the legs on the sofa by the far wall were broken, making the sofa lean alarmingly toward the floor, while the chair next to it had a broken arm. Sean’s eyes moved to the print hanging next to the lamp. It was a print of Van Gogh’s Irises.
“It’s the only thing I brought from home,” Bob said, following Sean’s glance. Then he gestured around the living room. “Nice place, huh?”
Sean couldn’t see any place to sit, so he leaned against the wall.
“Lovely,” Sean replied. “You should take the other two legs off the sofa.”
“I’m thinking about it. Maybe I will one of these days.” Bob curled his lips into a bad imitation of a smile. “Yeah. I can’t wait to come home every night.”
“I wouldn’t either.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Sean saw Marvin walk into another room. Sean was just about to ask him where he was going when he reappeared, with a kitchen chair. Sean sank into it gratefully. He didn’t stand well anymore.
Bob went and sat on the lower end of the sofa, while Marvin leaned against the wall.
“So,” Bob said, “how are things going?”
“In relation to your case? Not well,” replied Sean.
“How come?” asked Bob.
“Because you have a motive and you had opportunity,” said Sean.
“But I didn’t do it,” Bob protested. “I’m the fall guy.”
“That’s not what the DA thinks,” said Sean.
“My lawyer thinks the case is circumstantial,” said Bob.
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“He used those actual words?”
“Not exactly,” Bob mumbled.
“That’s what I thought.” In Sean’s experience, the DA didn’t usually charge people unless he thought he had a good chance of getting a conviction.
“I’m so glad you came around,” Bob said. “You’ve really cheered me up.”
“Do I detect a note of sarcasm?”
“Just a touch.”
“Listen, all I’m saying is in order to talk to the DA, we have to present him with evidence that someone else did this, or at least outline a plausible scenario, which I haven’t come across so far.”
“Everyone else’s motive is just as good as mine. Look at what happened to Inez, for example. She lost everything, just like me,” Bob replied.
“But she wasn’t in the room next to Amethyst’s.”
“She was in the building.”
“She was next door,” said Sean.
“There’s supposed to be a passageway that runs between the buildings.”
Sean leaned forward. “Mark says it’s been closed off.”
“Bessie says it hasn’t,” said Bob.
Sean managed to bite his tongue.
Bob shifted his weight to try to get more comfortable on the sofa, a feat Sean judged impossible.
“Anyway,” Bob continued, “how could I get out of where I was? I couldn’t.”
“Marvin and I are going to check that out again after we leave here,” said Sean.
“We are?” Marvin said.
“Yes, we are,” Sean told him before turning his attention back to Bob Small. “Maybe you killed Amethyst before you got into that space.”
“I was in that hole in the ceiling for hours,” said Bob. “I needed to pee, and I couldn’t get down to do that. Go check with Mark.”
“Was he there with you all the time?” asked Sean.
“No.”
“Then he’s not a good alibi for you, and for all I know, you may have had an accomplice,” Sean said, even though he doubted it.
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
Bob glared at him. “This is ridiculous. Konrad and Curtis said you’d help me,” he protested.
“I am,” Sean insisted.
“This is your idea of help?”
“Yes.” Sean rubbed his forehead with his hand. “I need to cover all the possibilities so I can dispute them. Speaking of which, who sprang for your bail?” It was not that he didn’t know; he wanted to hear what Bob had to say.
Bob smiled for the first time. “Mark did.”
“Interesting. Did he say how come?” asked Sean.
“Because he didn’t think I did it.”
“He told Libby he thought you had.”
“My cousins went to talk to him and changed his mind. I mean, no one else was going to put up money for me. Ever since I got sentenced to Allenwood, no one in my family, except for Curtis and Konrad and a cousin who works as a manager at Burger King, will talk to me.”
Marvin coughed. Sean glanced at him.
“You’re lucky,” Marvin said to Bob. “No
t many people would be so nice.”
“I know,” Bob replied. “He believes in giving people a second chance. Do you want to hear Curtis and Konrad’s new tapes?”
“Won’t they be upset if you monkey around with their machine?” Sean asked.
Bob shook his head. “I don’t see why. I know how to run it. The tapes are pretty interesting.”
“So you could hear voices?” Sean asked.
“Not voices,” Bob corrected. “Bessie.”
“Really,” Sean said.
“Well, you have to listen real hard,” Bob allowed, “but she’s there.” And he got up and went into the other room to get the tapes.
Marvin and Sean looked at each other.
“He’s probably delusional,” Marvin whispered. “I understand stress can do that to people.”
At last, Sean thought, he and Marvin had found a point they could agree on.
“At first you don’t hear anything,” Bob said as he turned the machine on, “except this noise that reminds me of the metal shop. But then—”
“You worked in a metal shop?” Sean interrupted.
“Yeah. At Allenwood. They taught me how to weld, They’ve got a really good shop there, with all the latest tools. Why are you asking?”
Sean shrugged. “No particular reason. Just making conversation.”
“I wish I liked doing it better. You can make a lot of money,” said Bob.
“I hear it’s tough,” Sean said. “But then if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be paying well.”
“True,” Bob said, and he put a finger on his lips. “Sssh. Here comes Bessie.”
Sean leaned forward and listened. All he heard was more static. Not that he was listening that carefully. His mind was preoccupied with something else.
“That was interesting,” Sean said to Marvin when they were sitting in Marvin’s vehicle again, eating the doughnuts and sipping the coffee that Curtis and Konrad had brought back.
“Are you talking about the tapes?” Marvin asked as he put the key in the ignition. “Because I didn’t hear anything.”
“No. I’m talking about the fact that Bob Small worked in a welding shop.”
“So?” Marvin asked.
“So that means he probably knows about fiber-optic laser wire. Remember I told you they use it to cut metal.”
A Catered Halloween Page 14