The Clockwork Teddy

by John J. Lamb

  I said, “No, I’m absolutely certain it was you. And you’ve overplayed your cool card.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rhiannon asked.

  “You should have reacted when I mentioned your boyfriend’s mother.”

  “Like I just told the detective. I had a brief—thank God—relationship with Kyle. That doesn’t make him my boyfriend.”

  “Thanks for the clarification. But that doesn’t change the fact that you were at the teddy bear show yesterday.”

  “So what if I was there? It was a nice day trip up to Sonoma. I didn’t know that Oedipus’s mom was going to be there.”

  I gestured at the stark room. “Funny, you don’t seem like a teddy bear sort of person.”

  “Funny, you don’t look like a mind-reader.”

  “I’m not. That must be the reason I can’t figure out why you’d lie to me,” I said.

  Rhiannon made a T with her hands. “Time out. Before I say another word, I want to know who you are and what this is all about.”

  Gregg said, “Mr. Lyon is a retired homicide inspector and he and his wife, Ashleigh, are now civilian consultants for the San Francisco Police Department. And as far as what this is all about, I told you. We’re investigating a murder.”

  “And I’ve already said that I don’t know anything about any murder.”

  “Just like you told Inspector Lyon that you weren’t at the teddy bear show.”

  Rhiannon gave him a scornful smile. “You need to listen more closely. I never denied being at that silly show. I just said he’d mistaken me for someone else.”

  It was apparent to me that Rhiannon was not only extremely intelligent but that she also wanted us to understand that we were her mental inferiors, which we probably were. I also suspected that the word splitting was being deliberately employed as a weapon in a mental war of attrition. She was deliberately trying to provoke us, hoping we’d become irked and focus on scoring verbal points against her, instead of getting to the crux of the interview, because she didn’t want to tell us anything meaningful. So, rather than engage in a courtly semantic duel with Ms. d’Artagnan, I elected to disrupt her composure by verbally hitting her below the belt.

  “Rhiannon, did you know that Kyle’s mom told us that you’re a cheap, gold-digging little whore and that you murdered a man in cold blood at the Paladin Motel last night?” I asked in a cheerful tone.

  Rhiannon’s look of superiority vanished as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “What? That’s crazy! I didn’t kill anybody.”

  “Yeah, but you were at the Paladin and don’t bother to come up with some cunning rebuttal. You were seen, and we’ve recovered your fingerprints from the motel room door,” I said, stretching the truth to about its maximum elasticity. I didn’t know if the evidence technicians had even processed the door for latent prints yet, much less whether Rhiannon’s known fingerprints were on file with a police agency. But I was certain she was the woman Kimberly had seen at Room Four. Sometimes, a homicide interview is just like playing high-stakes poker. You bluff and hope that nobody pays to see that all you’re holding is a pair of fours.

  “That doesn’t mean I killed anyone.” Rhiannon was looking panicked.

  “Actually, it does, if Kyle goes through with his mommy’s plan to surrender and tell the district attorney about how you put a bullet into the back of the victim’s head.”

  “Kyle said that?” The tormented look in her eyes told me that her relationship with Lauren’s devious son had been neither casual nor brief.

  “There’s no nice way to break this news, but yeah, he did, in a roundabout way.” Then, in a more temperate voice, I said, “Rhiannon, I don’t know what you think your relationship is with Kyle, but I can assure you that he doesn’t love you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be setting you up to take a big fall on this murder.”

  The young woman glanced at Ash, who nodded in confirmation. Rhiannon reacted as if she’d just been slugged in the stomach. She covered her eyes with her hands, bent forward at the waist, and let loose with a soul-tearing wail of anguish. Ash rushed over to Rhiannon’s side and helped the sobbing woman over to the couch. Meanwhile, Aafedt and Gregg gave me looks that said: Do you think this is genuine or just a tactical use of the tear ducts? I shrugged. The sorrow and pain looked awfully realistic to me and matched the description of the behavior of the heartbroken woman seen pounding on the door at the Paladin.

  Rhiannon was hunched over in a fetal position and crying hysterically, while Ash stroked the woman’s hair gently and told her soothingly that everything was going to be all right. Personally, I had my doubts that there’d be a happy ending, but if anyone could convince Rhiannon of that, it was Ash. After about five minutes, the young woman seemed to have run out of tears and was slowly regaining some control over her emotions.

  Ash looked up at us and whispered, “Would you find me a box of Kleenex?”

  Aafedt headed for the hallway. “I saw some in the bathroom.”

  The detective returned a moment later with the tissues. Ash continued to minister to Rhiannon and I sat down in one of the two suede leather chairs that faced the couch, waiting to resume the interrogation. A compassionate person would have waited a few more minutes until Rhiannon had recovered some of her emotional equilibrium. However, I didn’t have the luxury of being kind. Rhiannon was upset and vulnerable, which are the best conditions for wringing the truth out of a potential murder suspect.

  She blew her nose and then looked up at me with swollen and bloodshot eyes. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  I chose not to acknowledge and accept the apology for now, because that would have put us back on a more equal footing. That was something I didn’t want yet. Instead, I curtly replied, “Which lie are we are talking about? Not being at the teddy bear show or not murdering that man at the motel?”

  “I didn’t kill anybody. I didn’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would Kyle say I did that? Did something happen in that room?” She was babbling with fear and I was becoming increasingly certain it wasn’t an act.

  I glanced up at the detectives. Gregg mimed firing a pistol and I understood his silent message. He wanted me to skip the routine and preliminary collection of the background information and dive directly into finding out what Rhiannon knew about the shooting. It was a wise plan. Once Rhiannon regained her composure, there would be nothing to stop her from refusing to answer any more questions and throwing us out of her home.

  In a more gentle tone, I asked, “Rhiannon, are you saying that you weren’t in that room?”

  “I wasn’t. He never let me in. I knocked on the door and begged, but he never let me in.”

  She was in such a state of panic, that I thought it would be wise to confirm some basic facts. “And we’re talking about the Paladin Motel on Lombard Street in San Francisco last night, right?”

  The young woman nodded jerkily. “It was a filthy place. I went there to find out what went wrong. Why he’d—we were supposed to get married next April.”

  “Married? Kyle’s mom didn’t say anything about that.”

  “Kyle hadn’t told her yet.” The tears were beginning to fall again.

  “Rhiannon, we know that you recently bought a revolver. Why?”

  “I didn’t shoot anybody.”

  “I understand that, but we’d like to know why you needed a gun.”

  “It was Kyle’s idea. About once a month, we used to spend the weekend at his mom’s cabin near the Sierras. We liked to hike, but I was afraid of rattlesnakes. We found one on the porch one morning.”

  I suppressed a shudder. I’ve been terrified of rattlesnakes ever since I was a kid, when I’d nearly stepped on one during a fifth-grade field trip to the Muir Woods. “That must have been very scary.”

  Rhiannon sniffled. “It was. So, Kyle thought it would be a good idea if we had guns. Everybody has them up there. He said he’d teach me how to shoot.”

  I managed to suppress my tongue befo
re adding: At live targets? Instead, I said, “So, he purchased a forty-five automatic and you bought a twenty-two caliber revolver, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is your gun right now? Upstairs?”

  “No. Why would I need a gun here? It’s at the cabin.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m absolutely certain. You can search the house if you want.”

  “Inspector Mauel might just take you up on that, but for the moment we’ll accept that you’re telling the truth. When was the last time you saw the gun?”

  “About a month ago. Early August. It was the last time we went up there.”

  “And when was the last time you saw Kyle?”

  “Tuesday night. He was acting as if everything was normal and then . . .”

  “And then?”

  The young woman snatched a tissue from the box. “I had the sinus headache from hell on Wednesday, so I called in sick. Later that afternoon, corporate security showed up here to give me the Spanish Inquisition. They were looking for Kyle.”

  “Because he’d disappeared with Patrick?”

  “That damned teddy bear,” Rhiannon said bleakly. “God, I can’t count the number of hours we spent working on that thing.”

  “Interesting. We’ve been told that Kyle created Patrick all by himself.”

  “And you believed that?” Rhiannon was incredulous.

  “Why shouldn’t we?”

  “Because Kyle may be a software genius, but he knows absolutely nothing about robotics.”

  “Is that your field of specialization?”

  “Yes. Patrick was something we were creating together and then he . . . How could he have done this to me?”

  I understood the question was rhetorical and chose not to answer it. Everyone in the room knew that ultimately Kyle wanted the money more than he wanted her. I asked, “What happened once the corporate security guys left?”

  “I’d turned the phone’s ringer off before going back to bed that morning, but I saw I had a message.”

  “From Kyle?” Ash asked.

  Rhiannon nodded. “Out of the blue, he told me that he was breaking up with me and never wanted to see me again. His voice was so emotionless . . . it was like he was canceling a newspaper subscription.”

  “So, you tried to call him, but you quickly figured out that his phone was turned off,” I said. “Then you went looking for him?”

  “I didn’t want him back.” She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself. “But I was entitled to an explanation.”

  I nodded. “I’m assuming you went to his apartment. Are you the one who set off the tactical nuke in his place?”

  She looked mildly offended. “What are you talking about?”

  “Everything in his apartment has been destroyed and someone left a brief message for Kyle using drain cleaner on the carpet.”

  “Serves him right, but I didn’t do it.”

  “But you went there.”

  “I may have gone to his apartment, but I never went inside. His car wasn’t there, so I knew there was no point in knocking on his door.”

  I didn’t believe her, but saw no advantage in arguing the point. I said, “Then on Saturday morning you went to the teddy bear show. Was that to see if Kyle might be there with his mother?”

  “No. By then I knew that he was in hiding.” Rhiannon looked down at the pile of tissues on the coffee table. “Actually, I went there to talk to her and ask for her help. Both of us love Kyle, but if what you say is true . . .”

  “Unfortunately, it is. If you were on fire, Lauren wouldn’t stop to throw dirt on you.”

  “Then it’s a good thing that I was scared away by all the commotion.” There was an artificial element of relief in her voice.

  It sounded plausible, yet I knew I was overlooking an obvious discrepancy in the story. Fortunately, my wife had identified the incongruity. Putting her hand on Rhiannon’s shoulder, she quietly said, “But a crowded teddy bear show doesn’t seem like an ideal setting for a heart-to-heart chat with your former lover’s mom. Why didn’t you go to Lauren’s house and talk to her there? It would have been much more private.”

  Rhiannon turned her head away from Ash’s gaze. “I . . . It was . . .”

  Ash continued in the same tranquil voice she’d used years ago to coax our kids into telling the truth, “You didn’t, because you’re a smart woman and already knew how she felt about you, right?”

  “From the very beginning, his mom acted as if I wasn’t good enough for Kyle,” came the sullen reply.

  “You’re more than good enough for him, Rhiannon. A heck of a lot better than he deserves, if you ask me.”

  “So, why does she treat me like garbage?”

  “I’m guessing that Lauren just couldn’t deal with the idea of losing her son to another woman. Some mothers are like that.” Ash rubbed the younger woman’s arm. “So, you know what I think? I think you followed Lauren to the teddy bear show, because you were hoping that at some point she was going to lead you to Kyle.”

  Rhiannon nodded slightly and her chin began to tremble. “Pathetic, right?”

  “You are not pathetic. You’re a woman who thought that if she could just have one minute with the man she loved, that she could make everything right again.”

  “That’s all I wanted.”

  “But you wouldn’t have found Kyle by following Lauren anyway. Kyle had also betrayed his mother.”

  The young woman brightened for a second. “Good. I hope she feels as bad as I do.”

  I said, “Getting back to Saturday. You followed Lauren back into San Francisco from Sonoma?”

  “I tried to, but I lost her car in traffic. And then Kyle called.”

  “What?” My voice reflected the surprise we all felt. “What did he say?”

  “He told me how sorry he was, and that he hadn’t meant for me to think that we’d broken up. He said that he was in terrible trouble and that he was only trying to protect me by getting me to stay away.” Even now, there was a faint echo of joyful vindication in Rhiannon’s voice.

  I asked, “He called you on your cell phone?”

  She nodded.

  “And could you tell if he was using his cell?”

  “No. He told me he was calling from a pay phone. Kyle said that Lycaon security could track him if he used his cell phone.”

  It would have been useful to know the number Kyle had called from, but that could wait for the moment. The most important thing was to get the rest of the story. I asked, “Did Kyle say anything else?”

  “He said he was moving around constantly and didn’t know what to do, but that he wanted to meet with me.”

  “At the Paladin Motel?”

  “Yes,” said Rhiannon. “He told me the address and room number, but that he wasn’t there yet. He told me to come after seven-thirty.”

  Ash murmured, “I’ll bet you were happy.”

  “I was ecstatic. He said that he loved me and that he hoped I liked the idea of eloping.”

  I asked, “Here’s a question out of left field: Were you driving your Acura?”

  “Of course.”

  “And did you park it at the Paladin?”

  “No. Just around the corner on a side street. The motel lot was full.”

  “Was Kyle’s car there?”

  “Yes. It was backed into a parking space.”

  For a speedy getaway, I thought. I said, “Did you see any other cars there that you recognized?”

  Rhiannon thought for a second before saying, “No.”

  “Okay, getting back to your car. Would you mind if Detective Aafedt took a look at it?”

  “What do you mean by look?”

  “A quick check of the interior and the trunk.”

  “Why?” Rhiannon asked suspiciously.

  “There are a couple of reasons. First, we had a witness who saw a dark-colored sedan fleeing the scene shortly after the murder.”

  “But I told
you, I wasn’t there when the murder happened.”

  “I know, but Kyle’s mom has already accused you of the murder and at some point a defense attorney is going to do that, too.”

  Rhiannon went pale. “Oh, my God.”

  “Now don’t panic,” I said reassuringly. “You can prove that isn’t true by allowing the police to search your car. That way, the detectives can testify that they didn’t find any murder evidence.”

  “The keys are in that basket.” The young woman pointed toward the breakfast bar.

  Aafedt grabbed the keys and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  I asked, “So, what happened when you got to the motel?”

  “Like I said, I had to park around the corner. I didn’t like that motel.” Rhiannon was unconsciously rubbing her fingers against one another as if there was something slimy on them. “The place was just scummy.”

  “And you got there at seven-thirty?”

  “Maybe a minute or two after that. I got there way early, but it took longer than I thought it would to find a parking space.”

  “And what were you wearing last night?”

  “Why is that important?”

  “It might corroborate your story.”

  Rhiannon sighed and closed her eyes to think. “I had on blue jeans, a white cardigan, and my brown leather jacket.”

  I nodded. “Okay, so you’re out of your car and walking across the lot toward the room. Did you notice anyone out and about?”

  “No,” she said disdainfully.

  It figured that she wouldn’t have noticed Kimberly. I asked, “What happened when you knocked on the door to Room Four?”

  “Kyle asked if it was me, and I told him it was.”

  “And then?”

  Rhiannon’s eyes began to refill with tears. “He started to laugh like a crazy man and said that I had to be the most gullible bitch he’d ever met in his life.”

  “And he wouldn’t open the door?”