“What about the investigation? Have you found anything? Was there arsenic in Kristy’s tea?” I poured him a cup of coffee and was happy when he accepted it and took a seat on the stool opposite me.
“I hate to tell you this, but you were right,” he said. “We found a concentration of arsenic in the tea still in her cup, and an empty bottle containing traces of arsenic in her kitchen trash can.”
I shivered. “Thank God she didn’t drink the whole cup of tea.”
He nodded. “That’s probably why she’s in the hospital, and not in the morgue.”
“Hang on,” I said. “Why was the bottle in her trash? Did the killer leave it behind? Isn’t that a little cavalier? Were there fingerprints on it?”
“You’re assuming the killer was there,” he said, picking up the coffee.
I stared at him. “You’re not saying you think it was suicide?”
“I’m not ruling anything out, but there’s another possibility.” He seemed to be enjoying this. I’d have to remember to bribe him with sugar more often.
“You’re saying the killer tampered with something in her kitchen some other time,” I guessed. “Something he knew Kristy would eventually eat, or drink. Like a bottle of milk or something. Almond milk! Isn’t arsenic supposed to taste like almonds?”
“You’re assuming that the killer is a man,” he said reprovingly. “And you’re assuming that the killer had access to her flat.”
“Access to her flat was a cinch,” I told him. “At least it was for Monica and me. I told you, the guy downstairs let us into the building and her apartment door was unlocked. I thought the killer must have left it unlocked when they left, but maybe Kristy was just careless about that.”
He nodded, finishing the cookie. “Or…”
“Or…” I repeated, not getting where he was going. Normally he drove me crazy by not telling me anything. Now he was driving me crazy by telling me next to nothing. And he was enjoying it.
“It’s not so easy, is it?” he said. “When you don’t have the luxury of assumptions.”
“I never claimed it was easy,” I protested. “I respect the hell out of you, you know that.”
“Really?” He looked genuinely surprised. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, thanks,” he said. “I appreciate that.” He paused. “Listen, I really didn’t intend to talk to you about this, but you were there when Kristy and Tommy and S all met for the first time, right? At the Potent Flower, the day before the big product launch where S was killed.”
I blinked. “I hadn’t thought about it like that—the three of them meeting that day. But yes, I was there.”
“We’ve gone over the surveillance footage from the shop,” Jackson said. “But there’s no audio. Was there anything, even something that you can’t imagine being important, anything that you noticed when those three were together? Did anybody say anything, or react oddly to anything?”
I grimaced. “I hate to tell you, but I didn’t actually see those three together. I met Tommy, but he was talking to Monica and Abby when I got there. And then I met S, but just for a minute. Then Monica and Tommy and I went into our meeting and S stayed with Abby in the shop. She told us later that she introduced S to Kristy when he had more questions than she could answer. So I never actually saw the two of them together, with or without Tommy. Have you talked to Abby?”
He nodded. “She said all she noticed was an obvious, immediate attraction between Kristy and S.”
“They were soulmates,” I told him. “At least that’s what Kristy said.”
And now Kristy was in a coma, and her soulmate was dead.
Chapter 28
I got in early the next morning, stopping only to pick up the cookie order and a triple latte from Café Madeline before crossing the street to the Palace. It may not have been considered early by people with real jobs, but it was early enough that I didn’t expect to find Albert and Callie in the break room.
“Hey, you two,” I greeted them from the doorway. “What’s all this?”
The battered round table in front of them was covered with photographs.
“Good morning, Nora,” Albert said. “I’m afraid all this is a large portion of my childhood.” The expression on his face as he looked down at all the photos was part bemusement, part dismay. “I haven’t thought of some of these people in years. I’m sorry to say I have no idea who many of them are.”
I joined them at the table. The photos, dozens and dozens of them, were all jumbled together, overlapping and in piles. They were almost all black-and-white, a few in faded color, mostly of people posing for the camera.
“It’s, like, the most amazing source material,” Callie said. “Albert’s niece sent them for our documentary. His sister kept them all these years. Look.” She pointed to a group of four photos. “It’s the Palace!”
The pictures were from different eras, but all showed people out on the street with the Palace marquee in the background.
“They’re incredible,” I said.
Albert picked one up, passing it to me. “That’s my mother in the middle,” he pointed. “And this is my grandmother. I don’t know who the blonde woman is.”
“Double Indemnity was playing,” I said, squinting at the marquee behind them. “This must have been late summer or early fall of 1944. Your mother was beautiful.” She had dark hair and a generous smile. All three women wore hats and gloves and carried the kind of structured purse that I always thought of as a pocketbook.
Albert nodded. “Just so. I enlisted that fall, when I turned eighteen. Ah!” He saw something in another photo and picked it up. “Good heavens, I remember this. I must have been about ten or twelve here.”
He passed me the picture. It featured three boys grinning widely, their arms around each other’s shoulders, clothes rumpled and faces grimy, clearly glorying in some sort of athletic victory.
“Albert, I’d have known you anywhere.” He was the boy on the left, stick thin and wearing little round glasses even then.
“I remember that day,” he said. “Although I probably haven’t thought of it in seventy years or more. Our school had a track-and-field meet, and we won the relay race.” He smiled, looking half embarrassed at the naked joy on his younger self’s face. “That’s Jimmy Shoop.” He pointed to the middle boy. “And that’s Harry Shapiro on the end. He could run like the wind, Harry.”
“What ever happened to them?” Callie reached for the photo.
Albert’s face clouded. “Jimmy died at Iwo Jima,” he said. “His father signed the forms so he could enlist at seventeen.” He cleared his throat. “And Harry died not long after this photo was taken. He was riding a bicycle on the street and was hit by a delivery truck.”
“Oh, Albert.” I put my hand on his.
He placed his other hand on top of mine. “It was a long time ago.”
“Still,” Callie said, looking shaken, “I’m so sorry.”
“My dear ladies,” he said, withdrawing his hands and waving them dismissively. “If you ever get to be my age—and I sincerely hope you do—you’ll find that every year you’ll look around and realize more of your old friends are gone. Harry was the first friend I lost, but with the war, and time—” He shrugged. “—he was far from the last.”
“Gee, that’s sad,” I heard a voice say. Trixie appeared in the doorway, then came into the room to stand behind Albert, her hands hovering on his shoulders, looking at the sea of photos. “All my friends are gone, too. But then, I suppose I was the first to go.”
“Well, you have new friends now.” I was talking to both of them.
“Indeed I do,” Albert said fondly. “I’m a very lucky fellow.” He shivered. “Is anyone else cold?”
“Sorry!” Trixie stepped back from him.
“Let me ge
t you another cup of tea.” I stood and took Albert’s mug over to the sink, giving Trixie a reassuring nod.
“I’m going to Ken Burns the hell out of these pictures,” Callie said, gathering the images into stacks. “We’re going to make a great documentary.”
“I have full faith in you, my dear.”
“Oh!” Trixie sounded startled. I turned from the hot water tap to see her peering at the photo of Albert’s mother and grandmother with the unknown blonde woman in front of the Palace. “Oh, Nora, come quick. That’s my mama!”
“Are you sure?”
Trixie and I had left the others in the break room and gone to the office, where I sat at the desk and Trixie shimmered excitedly around the room.
“Of course I’m sure, silly,” she said. “Don’t you think I know my own mama?”
“Of course you do,” I agreed. “Was she friends with Albert’s mother?”
Her face clouded. “I don’t know. I think I remember her—Albert’s mother, I mean. She seems familiar in that picture, but that might only be from working here. Everyone from the neighborhood came to the Palace. Gee, do you think you could get a copy of that photo for me? I’d love to have a picture of my mama.”
“I’m sure Albert wouldn’t mind,” I said. “We can hang it here in the office.”
“Oh, I’d like that.” She settled in her usual perch on the arm of the couch, looking pleased. “Say, what’s this?”
She’d noticed the index card I’d left on her keyboard.
“Oh!” I went over to her. “Trixie, we have to be careful with that keyboard.”
“Did you see what I did?” She looked up at me eagerly. “I typed two whole words.”
“I saw, and you’re brilliant,” I told her.
She wafted a hand. “Aw, it was nothing.” Then she looked at the note again. “Why do we have to talk?”
“Right,” I said, sitting on the couch. “You know how I told you Gabriela made this for you?”
Trixie nodded. “That was awfully nice of her.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “The thing is, she set it up so that whatever gets typed on that keyboard gets sent to her phone.”
Trixie’s eyes widened. “How?”
Actually, I didn’t really understand myself how bits flew through the air and rearranged themselves on screens, so I was the last person who could explain the technology of it to Trixie.
“She uses science,” I said instead. “She’s very smart.”
Trixie nodded. “I can tell,” she said. “From her glasses. I bet she wears one of those white lab coats at her work. Oh! I bet she even works in a lab.”
“Actually, I think she does, sort of,” I said, although I was sure it was different from any lab Trixie was imagining. “Anyway, she said she was going to fix it so the words you type show up on my phone, too,” I told her. “Shall we try it?”
“Sure. What do you want me to type?”
“How about the word ‘test’?” I suggested. That should be innocuous enough for Gabriela to assume I was still experimenting.
Trixie turned to the keyboard, concentrating hard and holding her finger over each key until the letters appeared on the screen. TEST.
A few seconds later my phone pinged. I checked the screen and held it so she should see it.
“Nora! It’s magic! Why, it’s just like sending you a telegram.” She was excited, but she was also sort of flickering, in the way she did when she was depleted.
“It kind of is,” I agreed. “Does it tire you out to use it?”
She shrugged. “A little. I never really liked typing, you know. Three of my sisters went to secretarial school, but I only ever wanted to work at the Palace.”
I thought about it. “Okay, since it tires you out, we probably shouldn’t use it again until we understand it better. Gabriela said she was working on a better version of it, and maybe that will be easier for you.”
Also, maybe by then I’d be able to figure out how much it was safe for Gabriela to know.
“Sure,” Trixie agreed. “That’s fine by me.”
She was flickering more.
“It’s been such an exciting morning,” she said. “First my mother’s picture and then sending you a telegram on your thingamajig.”
“A very exciting morning,” I agreed.
“I think I’ll just take a little rest,” she said. Then she promptly disappeared.
Trixie was right. It had been quite a morning. I sat back at the desk and sipped my now-cold latte, thinking it all over.
I supposed it shouldn’t have surprised me that Albert’s mother and Trixie’s mother had known each other—they were women of a similar age living in the same neighborhood at the same time. But it still seemed amazing to me. They might have come to the movies together, right here in the Palace
The Palace had a long history. If I had anything to say about it, it would have a long future, too.
Chapter 29
Hi Monica. How are you holding up? Any update on Kristy?
I’d waited until ten to send the text. I assumed Monica had had a late night at the hospital and I didn’t want to disturb her until she was likely to be awake. Her reply came almost immediately.
Still no change. I got her folks a hotel room and they’re taking shifts so they can get some rest. I’m at the shop now, but I’ll go back to visit at lunchtime. Want to come along?
I wrote back.
Absolutely. But you didn’t answer my question. How are you?
There was a pause.
Too busy to think right now. I’ll collapse later.
That sounded like her.
Let me know when. I’ll bring you wine and Doris Day movies.
Since I knew Abby was usually in the shop on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I planned to get there a little before I was due to meet Monica. I wanted to follow up with Abby about Detective Jackson’s questions. Had she seen anything odd when Kristy and S met that day? Something she might have thought too trivial to tell him? I couldn’t recall noticing anything myself, but maybe if Abby and I put our heads together…
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my open office door.
“Dare I ask what’s going on in that fascinating mind of yours?”
A jolt of energy—or something—shot through me. “Hector, what are you doing here?”
He’d already come in, and now sat comfortably in one of the guest chairs. I’d half risen, not sure if we were kissing hello these days, but then I sat again, because apparently we weren’t.
“Delightful to see you, too,” he said. “I was hoping you’d be free for lunch later.”
“Oh. I was until about five minutes ago.” I held up my phone. “Monica and I are going to see Kristy at the hospital. But I’m extremely free for dinner.”
“I’m extremely glad to hear it,” he said. “How is Kristy?”
“No change,” I said. “Do you know anything about comas?”
“Only what I’ve seen in the movies. Is that what you’re so worried about?”
“What, me worried?” I smiled. “No, I was thinking about something Detective Jackson said, about how I was there the day S and Tommy and Kristy all met.”
Hector’s eyes narrowed. “Does he think that puts you in danger?”
Of course that’s where his mind went. I was one of the world’s great catastrophizers, but Hector was right up there in the top rankings with me. Which, given his criminal past, might be one of the reasons he was still alive.
“He didn’t say so,” I answered. “And if I’m in danger then so is Monica, and Abby, and everyone who was in the shop that day. No, he was just hoping I’d noticed something—anything—about when the three of them met.”
“You mean when the two men met Kristy,” he corrected. “Tommy and S already knew each other.”
“Right,” I said. “And partly because Tommy and S were so connected, I’ve been assuming that Kristy was only poisoned because she saw something when S was killed, something she didn’t realize was important because she was so convinced that Tommy was the killer.”
“It seems to make sense that Tommy and S were the intended targets, and Kristy was just a loose end that needed to be taken care of,” Hector said.
“Right,” I agreed. “According to that theory, S was killed by some unknown person for some unknown reason—money or revenge or jealousy.”
“The classics,” Hector nodded. “Tried and true motivations. And Tommy?”
I grimaced. “For the same reasons? If it’s money, that might make sense since he and S were in business together.”
“If it’s jealousy or revenge, the killer could be some other game developer,” Hector said thoughtfully.
I sat up. “That was one of the wild theories on the online forums, when S was first killed.” I tried to remember. “Some guy claimed he’d invented S’s game.” I blinked. “I wonder if the police are looking into that.” I’d have to ask Detective Jackson.
“If it was something like that,” Hector said, “it fits that Kristy was attacked because of something she saw that day. Or something the killer thought she saw.”
“Something like a mysterious game developer stirring bee pollen into S’s drink backstage?” I said
Hector cocked an eyebrow. “I would imagine she’d have mentioned that.”
“I would imagine so,” I agreed. “But here’s what I was just wondering: What if that whole line of thinking is wrong? What if Kristy wasn’t just a loose end? What if she was the catalyst for the whole thing? What if the reason those three were all poisoned started that day at the Potent Flower?”
“And that reason is?” Hector asked.
I slumped back in my chair. “When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”
Movie Palace Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 68