Mixed Signals

by Jane Tesh

  “Wait a minute.” I turned so I was facing Alycia. “Was Ralph paying for Jared’s silence?” Her own silence gave me my answer. “Camden, I think I know what happened. Jared asked for a raise. Isn’t that right, Alycia? For some reason, Ralph was paying Jared not to mention his son, but Jared got a little too greedy, and Ralph didn’t like that.”

  “Look, Bert’s just a kid. Jared let him hang out with us. He didn’t want anything to happen to him, so he protected him. We were family.”

  The family Jared never had.

  Alycia glanced up the street as if she’d heard someone coming. “All I know is, Jared said he knew why Bert had been sent to a mental hospital and that he was going to take care of things, and now I’m scared to stay here any longer. First Jared’s murdered, and then somebody tried to strangle me.”

  “Do you remember anything about your attacker?” I asked. “Height? Weight? Did he say anything? Did you grab a piece of clothing? See a piece of jewelry, like a ring or watch?”

  “I was fighting for my life. I didn’t stop to see if he had on a Rolex.” She frowned a moment and then said, “He smelled funny.”

  “Funny?”

  “Yeah, like he’d used some weird cologne.” She tried to smile. “Cam, honey, you aren’t going to rat on me, are you?”

  “If you turn yourself in and return what you stole, it’ll go a lot easier on you.”

  Her smile faded. “I can’t do that.”

  “But you can’t keep doing this.”

  “I’m not going to keep doing this, believe me. I’d planned another little job, but I’m too freaked out to stay here.”

  “Speaking of little jobs,” I said, “do you still have the items you stole from Royalle’s?”

  She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I sold them off first thing. I didn’t take a lot. I figured he’d have insurance, anyway.”

  “How did you know about the tunnel under Royalle’s? It doesn’t connect to the others across the street.”

  “I did a lot of research on the Underground Railroad. The people traveled ten, sometimes twenty miles at a time. They had to have what they called stations or depots along the way, places to rest. I remember my great-grandmother telling me there used to be a farm here with a big barn used as a station. I figured there might be a tunnel around. I got lucky and found it. The only time I’ve ever been lucky.” Her voice trembled. “Except when I met Jared. He was real good to me. And to Bert.”

  “Come to the house,” Camden said.

  “Can you guarantee my safety? I don’t think so.” She opened the car door. “I’m leaving town. I’m getting out before I end up like Jared.”

  “Alycia—”

  “Cam, don’t even think about following me.”

  “At least call me if you change your mind.”

  She paused. “I won’t, but thanks.” She ran off into the night.

  For a moment I thought Camden was going to follow her. Then he sat back in the car. “What do we do now?”

  “If she meant what she said, she’ll leave town and be safe. That’s all you can hope for. You can’t make her stop her life of crime.”

  “She doesn’t have to do that.”

  “Well, you heard her. Basketball just doesn’t pay like it used to.” I started the car. “At least she gave me some good information. First thing tomorrow, I’m talking to Ralph.”

  “She said her attacker smelled funny. What could she have meant by that?”

  “You held her hand. You tell me.”

  “She was too frightened for me to get any clear pictures. What are you going to tell Petey?”

  “That we caught the thief, and she won’t bother his store again.” I started the car. “Now let’s go find Wonder Star.”

  “Do you really want her to see you’re checking up on her?”

  “What if Ellin was running around town in a spangly leotard and a mask? How would you feel about—stop laughing, damn it.”

  I wanted Camden to zero in on Kary’s position, but he said he couldn’t. He was probably lying, but later, I was glad I hadn’t spied on her. Around eleven o’clock she came home tired but happy. She said she’d spent an exhilarating night. They didn’t find the Avenger, but she enjoyed spending time with the SHS.

  “They’re a delightful group of people. Different, but delightful. And thanks for not coming after me, David. I expected to see you any minute.”

  “Not me. I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun. Were you able to avoid the police?”

  “Oh, here’s the best part. We stopped at the Pack ‘n’ Snack near Waverly Street so Last Nerve could get an energy drink, and Jordan came by! He didn’t even recognize me! He asked us what we were doing, and Free Form said we were keeping the streets safe for democracy. You should have seen Jordan’s face.”

  Actually, I would’ve liked to have seen Jordan’s face. “I can imagine.”

  “Anyway, he warned us off, told us to go home and grow up. It was hilarious.”

  “You missed out on those wild teenage years, didn’t you?”

  She paused. “You know, I think that must be why I’m enjoying this so much.”

  I knew then that one night as Wonder Star wasn’t going to be enough.

  ***

  The next morning, Mom and Kary went to see Brooke. Camden spent another restless night worrying about Alycia, he said, so after he had his Pop-Tarts, he sacked out on the sofa. I went by the Herald. Unfortunately, Ralph Galvin was out of town for a business meeting, so my next stop was Winthrop, Inc., where there was a reward waiting for me, or so I thought.

  E. Walter sneered like an elf who’d bitten into a rotten mushroom. “Obviously, you haven’t seen today’s paper.” He snapped it open and held it up for me to read.

  “Avenger Foils Robbery.”

  I took the paper and read all about the Avenger’s latest daring escapade. This article had been written by another Herald reporter. “Last night, the Parkland Avenger saved an elderly woman from a robber at the Parkland National Bank’s Tenth Street ATM. Mildred Foster, 72, of 126 Elm Street, said she’d stopped at the ATM around ten o’clock when a large man approached her and demanded her money. A second man dressed in yellow tights and a red and yellow cape leaped from the roof, startling the robber, who ran off. Foster said the masked man then disappeared. ‘It must have been the Parkland Avenger,’ she told police. ‘Thank goodness he was in the neighborhood.’”

  Tor’s mid-life crisis had yet to be resolved.

  E. Walter slapped the paper down on his desk. “Don’t come back until you have the cold hard truth. And don’t think you can con me out of the reward. I’m not somebody you can push around.”

  Actually, I could’ve used him for a koosh ball, but I apologized. “Seems like the Avenger’s doing some good, though.”

  “The man’s a menace. People can’t take the law into their own hands. I’m determined to make the city a better place, but you don’t see me acting out some juvenile fantasy, or trying to do what policemen are paid to do.” He took the paper and folded it tight, so he wouldn’t have to see the offensive headline. “You said you’d identified the Avenger. Don’t tell me there’s more than one.”

  “The one I caught told me he was going to stop.”

  “A menace and a liar.”

  “I’ll discuss it with him.”

  E. Walter calmed down a little. “I appreciate your efforts, Mister Randall. You seem to be the only one besides myself who takes this matter seriously.”

  “I’m trying to solve a crime, but what’s your reason? I think there’s more to this than wanting to make the city a better place.”

  I wasn’t sure he’d answer me. He screwed up his tiny features and made some humphing sounds. “All this superhero stuff is crap. There’s no flying super man wit
h secret powers to swoop down and rescue you. There’s no secret formula, no secret words to change you into an invincible human. You get bitten by a radioactive spider, you die. You get an overdose of radiation, you die. Nobody’s going to protect you from life. When I found out I had cancer, did some amazing Chemo Man point his magic finger at my lungs and destroy the deadly cells? Even all my wealth couldn’t save me. It couldn’t save Lorraine.”

  “Lorraine?”

  “My wife. You may have seen her picture in the hallway. She was a beautiful woman, gracious and loving. She knew the name of every employee, the names of their spouses and children. She set up one of the very first day-care centers in Parkland here at the company. She was the one who urged me to contribute to Parkland’s many charitable organizations. No magical person in a cape came swooping down to rescue her. Thank God she didn’t suffer long.”

  “Your secretary said you were a survivor.”

  “Yes, but the quality of my life has been severely damaged. Life without Lorraine is joyless. There are so many things I can’t do, and quite frankly, I resent some idiot leaping from the rooftops when I can’t walk up a flight of stairs without stopping for breath.”

  The guy looked like a walking peanut, but I liked his honesty. “Have you been swamped by calls from people wanting the reward?”

  “Yes. My secretary turned away another whole crowd of impostors this morning. The only promising lead was a call from a young woman who works for the Herald. Didn’t you say you had a contact there?”

  “Must be the same woman. Did she give her name?”

  He searched his desk. “I wrote it down. Here we are. Brooke Verner. But I believe I just read something about a Ms. Verner being the victim of a drive-by shooting yesterday. Do you think that is somehow connected to the Avenger?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “You most certainly will.” He gave me one of his fierce little terrier glares. “I don’t imagine a young man such as yourself has had much misfortune in your life. It changes you. You either let it drag you down, or you begin to look for ways to make things right. I’ve chosen the latter. Whether you help me or not, I will make this right.”

  I don’t know what made me say it. As I’d made so plain to Mom, I never talk about Lindsey, not unless I want to feel like a knife is twisting my insides. But something about Winthrop’s pain and loss rang deep and true when he talked about life being joyless and making the choice to let sorrow rule you. “I lost my daughter in a car crash. She was eight years old. Was there anything I could’ve done to prevent that crash? That’s something I’ll wonder the rest of my life.”

  His scowly little features didn’t change. “Don’t let it consume you. Get out there and do something. Don’t let her life have been for nothing. Lorraine would’ve wanted me to go on, to take care of business. That’s what you do: take care of business.”

  I almost saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  “Now get out. I have work to do and so do you. Go find this stupid Avenger and get him off the streets.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Then Shall Be Brought To Pass”

  Tor was straightening a stack of motorcycle magazines and paused to give me a glare. “It wasn’t me.”

  “You’re sure.”

  “Didn’t I tell you I was through with that? Must be some copy cat.”

  “Do you have an alibi for last night, say, around ten?”

  “Yes, I do, smartass. I was with Wendy.”

  “No way.”

  “After she got through laughing, she wanted to hear all about my nights as the Avenger, and she ended up thinking it was pretty damn cool.”

  There’s no figuring women. “Congratulations.”

  “We went back to her place, and I flipped through her collection, if you know what I mean. Stayed all night. You can check with her.”

  Checking with Wendy was definitely something I wanted to do. I wanted to do anything to keep from thinking what Winthrop had said.

  Tor finished straightening the magazines and went behind the counter. He pulled out one of his sketchbooks and turned to an empty page.

  “Chronicling your adventures?” I asked.

  He took a photo from a stack. “Wendy asked me to draw one of her friends as a superhero for a Christmas present.” His pencil skimmed over the paper. “You were leaving, weren’t you?”

  I grinned. “Far be it from me to disturb the Avenger.”

  ***

  Brooke was awake when I went in to see her. She gave me a wan smile.

  “Thanks for coming by.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. It’s going to make a great story.”

  I sat down in one of the vinyl chairs. “Speaking of great stories, what’s the scoop on your shooter? Anything new?”

  “No. I could say it was the Parkland Avenger, but that’s over.”

  “You haven’t seen the paper today, either? The Avenger was out and about last night. Saved a little old lady’s life savings.”

  Her smile faded. “Wait a minute. I didn’t see Tor yesterday, and you said you knew about him, so I figured he was through.”

  “He is. This is someone else.”

  She looked upset. “A real Avenger, and I’m missing all the action.”

  “I think maybe there’s been a real Avenger all along, the one doing it right.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The other night, when you came in late. Camden and I were watching a movie, remember? You looked surprised to see us up.”

  “I remember, but what does that have to do with anything?”

  “That was one of the nights the Avenger actually foiled a robbery, something you never told Tor to do. In fact, I don’t think he was even out on the streets that night, but you were, trying to find out who the hell was protecting Parkland and if he’d give you an interview.”

  She started to protest, and then shut her mouth.

  “What kind of deal did you have with Tor?”

  “I paid him to show up at certain times, certain places. I’d alert the police and write the story. Or sometimes, he just told me what he did. He had a lot of imagination. I guess that comes from working in a comic store all your life.”

  “At some time, were you planning to turn him in and collect the reward?”

  “I was going to split the reward with Tor.”

  “Did he know this?”

  “Of course.”

  The little weasel.

  Brooke yawned. “I was certain Mister Winthrop would give Tor a lecture, Tor would agree to reform, and then we’d divide the cash. He gets five thousand, I get a Parkie, and Winthrop gets the satisfaction of ridding Parkland of the Avenger.”

  “At some point, did it ever occur to you that you were scamming a sick man out of his money?”

  “I never thought anyone would offer a reward like that. Besides, I was going to return my half.”

  Did I believe this? “That’s all very tidy. It still doesn’t explain why someone took a shot at you, or why the Avenger’s still at large.”

  “I guess that’s where you come in.” She closed her eyes. “Actually, this is where you go out. I’m really very tired.”

  I got up. “Okay, but I’ll be back. I don’t think you’ve told me the whole story.”

  Brooke was drifting off into a medicated haze. “Found something. Not by keen reporting skills. By accident. First, I thought it was Baseford. After all, he’s got the tabloid background. He could easily make up stories. But it isn’t Baseford. Damn, I wish it were.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “All those stories in ‘Your Turn.’ All made up. Not Baseford, though. Damn.”

  “Someone is making up all the stories i
n ‘Your Turn’? Someone at the Herald?”

  She nodded. “Same person. Sugar Baby.”

  Since I was practically leaning over her at this point, I thought she was giving me a compliment. Then it registered. “Brooke, are you saying the same reporter who broke the Sugar Baby story is writing ‘Your Turn’?”

  “It’s Galvin,” she said. “And there’s something else, Randall. I saw a letter on his desk, but I didn’t get the chance to read all of it. It was from his son, pleading to come home. And he said, ‘I promise I won’t tell about the museum funds.’ What could he be talking about?”

  If she was this close to uncovering a scandal, no wonder someone took a shot at her. “I don’t know,” I said, “but I’ll find out.”

  ***

  The nurse stepped in and told me it was time to leave. I went back to the Fury, called the museum, and asked to speak to the curator.

  “My name’s David Randall,” I said. “I’m a private investigator, and I’m working on a case that has connections to the robbery that happened a year ago. You told me about the robbery last Friday, but I’d like to ask a few more questions. Was the museum having any financial trouble then?”

  “No, sir,” he answered. “We had a successful fund raising season. It was our bicentennial.”

  “Who was in charge of that?”

  “One of our board members, Ralph Galvin.”

  “Is he still on the board?”

  “No, he resigned last year.”

  “After the robbery?”

  “I believe so. Board members can stay as long as they like. It’s not a paid position.”

  “So he was a volunteer?”

  “Yes, sir. We couldn’t do without our volunteers. The library board’s the same way, and the arts council.”

  “When did you announce the results of your fund raiser?”

  “Just a minute. I can give you the exact date.” I heard the clicking of computer keys. “August 14 a year ago. And since Mr. Galvin is editor of the Herald, we got excellent coverage in the newspaper. Why don’t I send you a copy of last August’s museum newsletter via email? It would have all the details.”