A Body to Dye For

by Grant Michaels

Mrs. Brickley stamped her foot on the carpeted floor, but it made only a dull thump. “Raymond? What is he talking about? Are you committing nefarious deeds? Who are these two men?” She indicated Wacky-Jacky and Mr. Leonard.

  Brickley tried to speak calmly, but he was all nerves now. “Vivian, I haven’t told you about it yet. I wanted to surprise you, but now that we’re here … Vivian, I’ve been working on a project that will make you proud of me. It has required the work of many people, most of whom you’ve never even met.”

  Mr. Leonard seemed desperate to explain the necessity of his role. “Madam, I’ve been safeguarding your holdings in the Yosemite Valley. Without me this whole project would have failed.”

  Jack said, “Hey! I blew up them rocks. Without me, none of you’d be anywhere now.”

  Mrs. Brickley said, “What is he talking about? Raymond! Explain yourself!”

  For an instant, Roy Brickley looked sheepish and weak, and I felt I was witnessing a marriage squabble. I did what I always do in those situations—observe quietly and await the best moment to act or speak. Brickley quickly recovered his bravado. “Now that it’s come out, Vivian, I will explain everything.” Brickley took a step back, as if to address us formally, though he still held the gun on us. “What I have conceived is unmatched in the history of architecture. Even Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead pales beside my master plan. It will be the ultimate statement of mans control over Nature, and it will make us rich, Vivian.”

  Mrs. Brickley was now even more agitated. “Rich? Raymond, money has never been a problem.”

  “Not for you, Vivian, with the founding fathers of Sacramento in your blood and in your bank accounts and your properties. But for me its different. My family disowned me long ago. I’ve had to sustain my own income. I’ve had to work!”

  “Raymond, everyone has to work. You’re prattling like a spoiled young boy.”

  “Not anymore, Vivian. Today, I’m a man. This project will prove it.”

  Vivian Brickley looked at Roy Brickley as a mother would a naughty child who has finally graduated to delinquency. When she spoke again, her voice was controlled and focused, but as usual, she was a few facts behind the rest of the conversation. “Raymond, I hope you’re not planning something on the land.”

  “Of course I am, Vivian! The land is just sitting there doing nothing. It’s been waiting for the perfect moment—my plan!”

  “That won’t do, Raymond. I’ve told you my intention is to preserve that land. It is to remain natural and unaltered, in perpetuity.”

  “Vivian, that’s too long! We are dying as we speak. I must make my mark on this world!”

  Vivian shook her head. “Raymond, this is distressing news.”

  I saw my moment and spoke. “Wait’ll you see what happens now.” I directed one superb hitch-kick directly at Brickley’s hand, the one holding the gun. The gun flew out the office doorway and over the railing into the atrium. (Just vectors and timing.) Wacky-Jacky immediately jumped on Brickley and knocked him to the floor. While they wrestled around, I lunged for Mr. Leonard, but my shoulder roared in pain, and our man-to-man scuffle resembled a limp-wristed tango.

  Then we all heard the shot. Mr. Leonard shrieked, and everyone stopped moving. Vivian Brickley held a small silver gun in her stone-steady hand. “Stop it, everyone! Stop it this instant!”

  Roy Brickley was holding his shoulder. It was dark and wet with blood. He sobbed, “I’m shot! You’ve shot me, Vivian! I’ll be scarred! I’ll sue you!”

  “Raymond, stop whining! It’s only a flesh wound. I’m sorry I had to do it, but you’ve worn me down. I’m tried of your insatiable greed, and I’m weary of your sexual problems. This dirty business is the last straw. I’m through with your boyish antics! I’m calling the police!”

  From my clumsy embrace with Mr. Leonard, I said, “May I call, Mrs. Brickley? There’s a particular cop I’d like to have witness all this.”

  But she never had a chance to answer me. Responding to the gunshot, Lieutenant Branco and half the Boston Police Department were already coming in through the front door and running up the ramps to where we were.

  “How did you know?” I asked him.

  “Your friend Ms. Albright called me.”

  Damn! I’d forgotten to phone Nicole.

  Branco said, “Looks like we showed up just in time, too.”

  “Saved me the call, anyway,” I retorted.

  Vivian Brickley said, “Officer, arrest these men!”

  Branco said, “Ma’am, you’ll all have to come downtown with us.

  Vivian looked at me with concern. “Does this mean I’m under arrest, too?”

  “Just for questioning,” answered Branco. Then, looking at Mrs. Brickley’s gun, he said, “I hope you have a license for that weapon.”

  Mrs. Brickley answered him shortly. “Of course I do! I’m a markswoman. I’ve carried a firearm since my days in the foreign service over thirty years ago.” Then she remarked to me, “But I’ve never been arrested before.” She giggled quietly.

  “Stick with me, Mrs. Brickley,” I said. “You’ll see a lot you never did.”

  20

  FINISHING TOUCHES

  THURSDAY NIGHT, AFTER CLOSING THE SHOP, Nicole and I were in the back room for our customary drink. A thorough massage that morning and strong painkillers had enabled me to work half a day, despite my shoulder injury.

  “Was it too much for you today, Stani?”

  “Nikki, supervising Ramon this afternoon was a pleasure compared to last night’s adventure.”

  She took out her gold cigarette case and caught me eyeing it. “Where are those cigarettes I gave you last night?”

  “I lost them.”

  “Well, you’re not mooching one of mine just to ruin it.”

  “It’s okay, Nikki. I decided to quit smoking anyway.”

  She laughed. “You never even started!”

  “But the desire was there,” I said knowingly.

  A sudden loud banging on the back door startled us. I went to the door and hollered through, “Who’s there?”

  “Branco!”

  I let him in. He wore a three-piece navy blue suit with the palest blue pinstripes.

  Nicole said, “All dressed up and no place to go, Lieutenant?” Branco said, “I was in court all day.”

  If I’d been on the jury, I’d have believed whatever Branco said, simply because he looked so damn fine.

  Branco said, “Today we heard testimonies from Brickley, Smuckbaum, and Werdegar.”

  It sounded like a law firm.

  “Was I right about Roger’s killer?” I asked.

  Branco nodded.

  “I knew it!” I said triumphantly. “Roy Brickley!”

  “Stani!” snapped Nicole. “All along you’ve been saying it was Calvin.”

  “I know, doll. But I was wrong.”

  “Why Brickley?”

  Branco was about to explain, but I stopped him. “May I have the honor, Lieutenant? I want to see how right I was.”

  His mouth tightened, but then he nodded.

  “Tell me if I’m off, though, okay?”

  Branco said sharply, “Just get on with it.”

  “See, Nikki, Roger found out about Brickley’s plans for a huge condo development in Yosemite. That’s why he came to Boston, to put the screws to the Choate Group, since they did the original land survey. Roger threatened to halt the whole project because it would deface a National Park site.”

  “Then how did it get as far as it did?” she asked.

  Branco answered. “Vivian Brickley owns a parcel of land in the Yosemite Valley. Because of vague technicalities in the laws that govern National Parks, the privately held land can still be developed, so long as it doesn’t impede on a natural formation.”

  “Which Washington Column used to be,” I added.

  Nicole surmised and said, “So with the rock formation gone, work on the condos could proceed?”

  “Technically, yes,” Branco said
in his solemn law-abiding voice.

  I added, “But Roger was still trying to halt the project on the grounds of natural preservation. And, since that’s what Vivian Brickley had intended for the land all along, Roy Brickley had to stop Roger before Vivian found out.”

  Nicole asked, “I can’t believe she didn’t know what her husband was up to.”

  Branco explained. “Her husband led her to believe that the surveying team was to satisfy new laws to further protect any property entrusted to the National Park and Wildlife Service.”

  I added, “But it was a lie.”

  Branco nodded and continued. “The surveyors were actually marking the terrain to make sure Brickley’s own plans would succeed in slipping through the loopholes in the old laws.”

  “Goodness!” exclaimed Nicole. “Is the land still in danger?”

  “No,” said Branco. “In fact, from the start, Vivian Brickley must have doubted her husband’s intentions regarding the land, because she’d already filed new trust documents with her attorneys.”

  Nicole asked, “So, Roy Brickley’s master plan was all for nothing?”

  Branco nodded soberly. “I’m afraid so.”

  I added bleakly, “Two deaths and a natural rock formation destroyed, all because of greed.” Poor Roger, I thought.

  “At least the woman was innocent,” said Nicole.

  “Completely,” said Branco. “And the land is safe. This kind of thing can never happen again.”

  Nicole asked, “But how did Brickley know to find Roger at Calvin’s place so he could kill him there?” Then she quickly added, “Oh, they probably arranged the whole thing.”

  “Right,” I said. “Calvin was in on that part of the plan. When Roger arrived, Roy Brickley convinced Calvin to play up to him, offer him a place to stay. That explains why Calvin was so reluctant to invite me for drinks that evening. He wasn’t sure how many people would be at his place that night.”

  Nicole said, “Do you think Calvin knew Roger would be dead?”

  I shrugged. “I’m only guessing, Nikki.” I asked Branco, “Did their testimonies explain that?”

  Branco said, “You’re pretty much on target, Stan, except that murder wasn’t part of the plan. Brickley went to Redding’s place that afternoon to try to buy Roger Fayerbrock off. It didn’t go as planned, though. They became violent, and Brickley ended up strangling him. The only thing they didn’t foresee was Aaron Harvey, who was supposed to be in New York but who never left town. He was in the apartment when Roger arrived unexpectedly, so he hid in the bedroom closet. When Brickley arrived, Harvey ended up witnessing the killing through the louvers in the door.”

  “That’s why I smelled Aaron’s cologne in the room that night! God, Brickley must have almost caught him when he went into the closet for a bow tie.”

  “It was a close call,” said Branco.

  I continued, “Who put the ties on Roger? The knots were different, so I suspect two different people.”

  “We found only one tie, but from what we heard today, there was actually two. Brickley did put on one, and Aaron Harvey admitted to the other.”

  “Brickley must have done it to incriminate Calvin.” I paused. “I guess I believed it, too. But why would Aaron Harvey do it? Just to let Calvin know that he’d been there? Calvin would miss that kind of subtlety.” I sighed and shook my head. “What some people do in the name of love.”

  Nicole asked, “Was Aaron still in the closet when Stani got there?”

  Branco answered, “Aaron left the apartment even before Calvin Redding got home, but he watched from outside the building to see what happened once the body was discovered.”

  “So that’s how he knew my face and connected me with Roger! But I’m still curious about one thing, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes?”

  “Who had sex with Roger?” I asked bluntly.

  Branco shrugged. “We haven’t got an answer on that.”

  “Didn’t Aaron see anything?”

  Branco shook his head. “If he did, he’s not telling.”

  Nicole held two bottles up to Branco. “A drink, Lieutenant?”

  Branco pointed to the Scotch, then made his thumb and index finger show the space of almost an inch. “Neat,” he said to her. I was surprised that he accepted the offer.

  “Where did you finally find Aaron?” I asked.

  “Just where you said, Stan, holed up in a jazz studio storage room.

  I beamed. That admission was as close to a compliment as Branco would give me.

  He continued, “And you were right about the blackmail angle, too. Aaron Harvey was blackmailing Brickley for a share in the Yosemite profits. He promised not to tell the police that he’d witnessed Brickley killing Roger.”

  I added, “But that two-timer was also blackmailing Calvin, except he promised Calvin he would tell the police everything he knew, if Calvin would sign his penthouse over to him. Calvin naively saw it as an easy way to clear himself of any suspicion around Roger’s death.”

  “That’s right,” said Branco.

  Nicole asked, “But if Aaron knew so much, why did he kill Calvin? Shouldn’t it have been the other way around?”

  Branco and I answered in unison. “Brickley killed Calvin!”

  “Brickley!” Nicole looked stunned. “But why?” she said, handing Branco his drink.

  I answered, “Once he was released from jail, Calvin was probably double-crossing Brickley for a bigger cut of the Yosemite pie. Brickley answered that ultimatum in his own way.”

  “Right again,” said Branco. Then he raised his glass to me and to Nicole. “To health!” he said.

  “To love!” I said.

  “To money!” Nicole said.

  We all drank.

  Nicole asked, “What about Leonard and Jack, the two from Yosemite?”

  Branco explained, “Roy Brickley and Leonard Smuckbaum were partners.”

  I interrupted, “Were they lovers?”

  Branco frowned and went on without answering me. “Roy Brickley married his wife for her money and for the land she held in the Yosemite Valley.”

  “Talk about a smoke-screen marriage,” I said.

  “Poor deluded woman,” said Nicole. “I’ll have to talk to her.”

  Branco continued. “As for Jack Werdegar, Brickley hired him to cause the rock slide. That’s where that Rezon-loaded chock came from. Stan found one that hadn’t detonated.”

  Nicole asked, “But didn’t anyone in the valley hear the explosion and suspect foul play right from the start?’’

  “The Rezon doesn’t explode,” he explained. “It vibrates things until they reach resonant frequency. Then they just collapse. Werdegar had jammed about a hundred of those things into the rock. Once the rock fractured, the slide appeared completely natural.”

  “But what was he doing in Boston?” she asked.

  Branco said, “Werdegar’s been out here a couple of times. First time was last summer, which is when he stole the Rezon from M.I.T. labs. Roy Brickley had learned about the stuff through his alumni contacts at M.I.T. while he was consulting on a special project there. He hired Werdegar to steal enough of it to do the job.

  “The second time Jack came to Boston is partly thanks to Stan.” Branco raised his glass to me, and I happily accepted the gesture of praise. “When he found Stan asking questions in Yosemite about the killing, he realized he was involved in something more serious than he’d expected. He wanted to pull out, but first he wanted to be paid off. So he returned to Boston to collect, but instead, Brickley forced him to help him again.”

  “And Leonard?”

  “Leonard Smuckbaum flew here to Boston to give Brickley a hand. Brickley hadn’t planned on the complications caused by Aaron Harvey and Jennie Doughton and Stan here.” Branco took a sip of Scotch and nodded in approval. (He should have—it cost Nicole thirty bucks a bottle.)

  I said, “So my meddling kind of helped things reach a climax, eh?”

  Branco
made the slightest nod.

  I said, “And Brickley probably caught Jennie Doughton combing through the Choate Group computer files, as I’d suggested she do.”

  “That’s right,” said Branco. “She found out too much, so Brickley ordered Werdegar to kill her.”

  “I wonder whom he got to call the Harvest and leave that message for me the other night?”

  “Probably some unsuspecting staff member,” said Nicole.

  “I hope he paid her overtime for staying late,” I said.

  “Huh!” went Nicole. “I want to know who left the threat note? And who broke into Stani’s apartment?”

  “And tried to run me over? Brickley, of course. He even beat me last night while Jack held my arms. I smelled his citrus cologne.”

  Nicole lit a cigarette and pulled the smoke deep into herself. “And finally, how does Yudi fit into all this?”

  “Ah yes. Yudi,” I said. Branco watched me quizzically as I spoke. “He told me everything earlier today, after he gave you his statement, Lieutenant. I had assumed his motive for coming to Boston was to avenge Roger.”

  “And was it?” asked Branco with a sly look.

  Nicole interjected, “He apparently had another personal reason as well, Lieutenant.” She rolled her eyes toward me.

  I ignored her remark and continued. “The morning he disappeared, he went to the Choate Group. Unfortunately, he flew directly into Brickley’s web, and Wacky-Jacky caught him on his way back to town. Brickley’s plan backfired, though, because Jack didn’t have the nerve to kill him. Or Jennie, for that matter.”

  “What will happen to the others now?” asked Nicole.

  Branco said, “Brickley faces murder-one for killing Roger Fayerbrock and Calvin Redding. Smuckbaum is an accomplice. Aaron Harvey faces two counts of blackmail and one of withholding evidence. Jack Werdegar has destroyed federal property and kidnapped two people. His sentence may be reduced because he took good care of Yudi and Jennie and actually protected them from Brickley.”

  “Jack needs psychological help more than punishment,” I remarked.

  Branco’s face tightened. “A good measure of both, I’d say.” He finished his drink and made for the door. He said good night to Nicole, then turned to me, facing me directly. “And how about you? Where’s your little friend now?”