Chapter Nine
In my pre-Charlie days, I normally showered, ate breakfast and headed out for the office, all in silent slow motion. That Monday morning, Charlie and I trudged outside to take care of his needs. Back in the apartment, he wanted some attention and ran in a circle around me. Then he rolled onto his back. I rubbed his puppy belly, marveling at how trusting he was. I stopped once he settled down. I toasted a Pop-Tart for my morning meal. The aroma got Charlie excited again. As an ardent admirer of the pastry, he finally sat motionless at my feet. Sucker that I am, I shared some of it with him and flicked on the television.
My quick breakfast turned to cement in my stomach. A reporter, wearing that ‘this is tragic, folks’ look was describing a murder that occurred Sunday night. He called the perpetrator of this fourth victim the ‘Red Bow Killer.’
Unlike the other bodies, this latest corpse was found in the suburb of Brook Park, south of the other murder locations.
Having the media grab onto this story had to be Corrigan’s worst nightmare. A panicked city and increased pressure from the politicians to charge someone with the crime was beyond bad.
Unbelievably, it got worse. The reporter went on to claim the police had questioned someone of interest, but had let the suspect slip through their hands. He concluded by asking anyone with information to notify the police. I felt ill, with a buzzing in my ears. All the police needed now was a bunch of wanna-be detectives looking for the suspect. It’d be like hunting someone hiding out among fun house mirrors. Lots of sightings, no real results.
That’s when I realized my phone was vibrating. “Claire!” It was Gino, who no doubt had also seen the news. “You better be on your way to the office. We have some serious work to do.”
Sure he meant I had some serious work to do, I countered with, “What exactly will we be doing?”
As if he were the lead of an espionage ring, he lowered his voice. “Our mission is to find Rick Gutkowski.”
I shook my head, picturing Gino with his hand over the phone, as if anybody was interested in eavesdropping on him.
By the time I stepped into the office, Gino had both computers up and was talking to Betty on the phone. When his call finally ended, he looked as if he’d donated blood but they mistakenly took all of it. “Whew! She’s needing some serious hand-holding. Guess I’m the man she chose to do it.”
No reply that didn’t include sarcasm came to my mind.
I looked down at my phone. A text from Ed had come in a couple of minutes ago. He was downstairs, waiting to talk to me. Alone.
Rushing out the door, I told Gino I needed to get something from my car. Ed was in his security guard uniform so I assumed we didn’t have much time. After a quick greeting he told me why he’d come.
“That hotel where the latest was killed? Somebody was having a party there and Lena did their cake. Afterwards, she went over to pick up the dish and stuff because the customer didn’t return it. Body had already been found. Anyway, victim’s name is Desiree Luscious.”
My eyes narrowed. “What? What kind of name is that?”
“Stripper or exotic dancer. Take your pick. Real name is Joanna Whitechapel. Worked at a place called Diamond Girls. I thought you’d want to know.”
That was the extent of his information, but it was a start. After thanking him he saluted me and took off.
Heading back to the office, I debated whether to let Gino in on this or not. I half-smiled. No doubt he’d love to have to visit a strip joint for an investigation. I decided not to tell him. Not yet. The thought of having that $10,000 reward all to myself was just too enticing.
“Did you get what you needed?” Gino asked as soon as I returned.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Did Betty have any more information?”
He rubbed his chin. “Nah, but I got the latest victim’s name. Get this; Desiree Luscious.” He smirked. “Found out where she worked too. I think I’ll pay a visit there and see, I mean find out what I can.”
My jaw clenched. It didn’t seem like there’d be any way for me to keep ahead of Gino. I forced myself to get philosophical about it. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. After all, he had more years of experience in investigations than me. I waited a moment. Nope, I wasn’t buying it.
Gino had his keys in his hand and was ready to visit Diamond Girls when a man the size of a Kodiac bear pushed past me. The stranger torpedoed toward Gino, grabbed him by the collar and tossed him back into his chair as if dropping a handball. His voice was rough and low. “Keep your hands off Betty. This is your only warning.” He spun around, growled at me, and exited.
I rushed to Gino and leaned over. “Are you okay?”
He blew out a shaky breath. “Think so.” He righted his shirt which still showed the creases where the stranger had bunched it.
“Who was that?”
Gino wiped the sweat off his forehead with his handkerchief. “Probably the guy Betty told me about, Clarence. But she claimed it was over between them.”
I straightened up. “Didn’t look like anyone told him.”
He rubbed his neck and rocked his head from side to side.
“Do you want some water or something?” He declined. “I hate to interfere with lovers’ spats, but maybe you need to talk to Betty and have her straighten Clarence out. Like now.”
“I was going to go to Di—”
“Tut, tut, tut.” I wagged my index finger back and forth. “You need to do it now. I can go to…” I feigned ignorance. “What’s the name of the place again?”
He hung his head, disappointed no doubt. “You’re right. Just be careful. Place is Diamond Girls. Maybe call your dad and see if he’ll go with you.”
I glared at Gino. “I’m not five and afraid of crossing the street by myself.” It was one of the few things I wasn’t afraid of.
I waited to leave until Gino called Betty and asked her to meet him at the office.
***
Diamond Girls was on busy Brook Park Road, in an area of industrial parks. The sign outside claimed the joint was newly remodeled and under new ownership. It still looked dingy to me. Once inside the place, it looked like all the rhinestones in the world had been rounded up and glued to the walls. The glare must have been awful. The carpet was a swirl of red and black, probably to hide any unseemly stains. The stage was in the middle of the room and a pole sat off to one side. An enthusiastic young woman gyrated clumsily for the benefit of three bored-looking men.
One of the men stood. “That’s fine, honey. We’ll call you.”
Honey pouted and climbed off the stage.
At the back of the showroom was a hallway with some doors. Maybe that was where the dancers got ready. I started heading that way when one of the two guys still sitting spotted me and, with his elbow, poked the third man. All three of them turned in my direction.
The standing guy spoke first, “You here for tryouts?”
I halted and half-laughed. “No, no, I’m not.”
The third guy snorted. “Good thing. You ain’t got enough to hang pasties on.”
The first guy protested. “Hey, with surgery she’d be all right. You ever think of having a boob job, honey? I know a doc—”
This was already out of control and I hadn’t even asked a question. I raised my voice, “Excuse me. I’m not here about a job.” Although I bet I could work those tassels. “I’m with Francini Investigations. I have some questions about Desiree Luscious.” The third guy finally stood. “I’m Tony Esposito, the owner of this place. We already talked to the cops.” His consonants were blunted, as if he was from Chicago.
My pat answer was in-the-ready. “I understand. We work with the police to make sure nothing’s been omitted.”
Tony expectorated into a plastic cup just as I finished my spiel. “Yeah, well, they didn’t miss nothing. And we’re busy here.”
“This’ll only take a minute. Did she have any regular customers?”
The first guy at the table chuckled, “None of the guys
here are regular people.”
Tony frowned. “Don’t mind him. Thinks he’s a comedian. To answer your question, no. Although all our girls are required to mingle, you know.”
I kept my face neutral, all the while imagining watered-down drinks for the girls and illegal extra-curricular activities.
“But surely, somebody saw something last night—”
“Nobody seen nothing. Now, if that’s all, we got a business to run. Nick will show you to the door.” Tony puffed out his chest like a snake before it strikes. “If you don’t want any trouble, don’t come back.”
The guy I supposed was Nick hiked his pants over his protruding belly and moved to take my arm. I yanked it out of his reach. “I don’t need any help.” I spun on my heel and hoped to make it beyond the door before my trembling knees gave out.
Outside I blew out a big breath. That went well.
I’d just reached my car when a woman got out of a truck and started walking toward Diamond Girls. With her white-blonde long hair, unnaturally large breasts, super-high heels, and pants so tight blood cells would’ve had to move single file down her legs, she had to be a dancer.
“Wait! Miss!” I called but she didn’t turn around. Desperate, I shouted, “Did you know Desiree?”
The woman picked up her pace. “I don’t talk to reporters or cops.” Her voice was high, almost squeaky, like the sexpots in movies.
“I’m neither. Just a friend of another victim.”
She halted so quickly I thought she’d fall backwards. “Ooh, in that case, okay. Hey, I’m sorry about Desiree. She was a doll. And clean. No drugs. Mingled, but that’s all she did, if you know what I mean. Always left after her shift. Claimed she had another job as a hostess, but I don’t know where.” She looked toward the building and flinched. “Gotta go. Nick’s coming.”
Sure enough, Nick, shoulders hunched was barreling toward us.
With a quick thanks, I leaped into my car and gunned the motor.
After making my getaway, I headed back to the office. I needed more background information on Desiree to see the connection between her and the other victims. So far, if there was a pattern to the women the killer chose, I didn’t see it. Maybe it had something to do with her other job. I just had to find out what that job was.
Betty and Gino were sitting at his desk and were so deep in conversation when I returned they didn’t even notice me. That was fine; it would give me time to do some research. Too bad I only got as far as Desiree’s last residence before Gino called to me.
“So what’d you find out?”
“Ms. Whitechapel was a ‘good girl.’” I made quotation marks with my fingers. “At least according to one of the other dancers.”
He frowned. “Nothing else?”
“The owner is a guy named Tony Esposito.” I also described Nick.
Gino sighed, as if I was a student who couldn’t rise above a C+. “Shoulda trained you better on interrogation techniques.”
My hands curled into fists, but I said nothing, telling myself I’d find the killer, get the reward, and be out of this office before Gino could ask if I’d made the coffee yet.
Betty interrupted. “I need to take off. Meeting with the funeral home.” She covered her mouth with a waded tissue. A sob still escaped.
I gave Gino a nod, as if to tell him to go with her. He jutted his jaw in defiance, but in a voice that could soothe a lobster going into a pot of boiling water, said, “I’ll go with you, Betty. You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself.”
Dropping the tissue from her face, she brightened just a little. “You sure? I mean, thank you. Oh, thank you so much.” Up went the tissue to block another sob.
After Gino gave me the order to ‘hold down the fort,’ he and Betty left. Back I went to research Desiree’s life.
It took me about an hour to find all I could. Desiree aka Joanna lived alone in an apartment on Memphis Avenue. No siblings. Parents never married. Mother deceased. Father, whereabouts unknown. Graduated from Garfield Heights High School. Started at Tri-C College but dropped out the first year. Currently employed at Diamond Girls. Well, that was no longer the case. No information on her alleged second job.
I was ready to pack up, but my conscience wouldn’t let me leave until Gino either returned or called. While waiting, I made a list of questions about Desiree’s life; then a list of questions I still had about the other victims. Once that was done, I drummed my fingers on the desk. Finally, I called Corrigan. Maybe he’d drop some information about Desiree. I chortled to myself. That would happen about the same time chocolate became calorie-free.
Of course his voicemail picked up. The guy was probably going crazy. Four murders and now he’d probably be working with the Brook Park police. I left a message and, since it was almost quitting time, I closed up shop.
Silently thanking Ed for talking Aunt Lena into closing Cannoli’s on Mondays, I reckoned I had the whole evening free. My first stop was at Rally’s for a burger, fries, and diet pop. I justified the calories by telling myself I hadn’t had lunch.
Taking the last sip of pop, I pulled into Desiree’s apartment complex and drove around. I didn’t have to guess which one was her building. There was a black-and-white police car and, of course, Corrigan’s car parked outside Building D. No need to wonder what they were doing there.
Swallowing my desire to wait until the police left, I made my way toward the building. A uniformed cop prevented me from getting very far. Stalled, I spotted Corrigan and shouted to him.
He looked to the sky and shook his head. Still he made his way over. “Tell me you’re here because you have something to add to the investigation. If not…”
I tried not to look smug. “As a matter of fact, I do. The victim worked at Diamond Girls and—”
He flipped open his notepad. “I know. Her stage name was Desiree Luscious.”
“She had another job.”
His eyes narrowed. “Where?”
I looked down at my feet and muttered, “Don’t know.” Then I raised my head. “I’ll find out though.”
He stifled a yawn. “If you do, make sure the police are the first you tell.” Peering out at the parking lot, he blew out a weary breath. “And Claire, don’t give the reporters any information, okay?”
I scowled, “As if I would.” Turning my head I spotted camera operators and reporters bearing down on us like boll weevils on a cotton field. No way to stop them.
Since I didn’t look like anybody important, it was relatively easy for me to slip through the media people. They descended on Corrigan, though, with a fervor that reminded me of army ants picking a carcass clean. I turned away, unwilling to watch the carnage.
Travelling down the road to uncover Desiree’s other job could have been be a waste of time, but I had nothing else. I said a silent prayer to St. Jude, the saint of impossible causes, that the killer would be stopped before he snuffed out another life. A short plea that I’d be the one catching him and so, getting the reward followed. If only I could talk to someone else at Diamond Girls.
It was almost nine when I got my next brilliant idea. “Hello, Ed? It’s Claire.”
“What’s up, buttercup?”
“Just wondering what you’re doing tonight.”
He chuckled. “Hey, I’m a married man.” His tone turned serious. “This about those four murders?”
“Yes.” I told him how Tony Esposito had interrupted my questioning the dancer. “So, can you meet me at Diamond Girls and sort of run interference for me?” I was purposely vague because the exact plan hadn’t yet come together in my head.
“Lemme get this straight. You want me to go to Diamond Girls and put a hold on this Esposito guy so you can slip in and talk to this other dancer?”
“Something like that.”
“That ain’t smart, Claire.”
I bit my lower lip. “Do you have a better plan?”
“I will by the time I get over there.”
I didn’t
know if he was bluffing or not, but we agreed to meet at Diamond Girls at a quarter to ten.
Chapter Ten
Feeling paranoid about Esposito spotting me, I parked in the space furthest from Diamond Girls’s door. Pulling up two rows over from me was Ed. I blinked twice, trying to unsee what I saw.
My aunt.
I got out of my car and Ed unlocked his car doors so I could get in. After I slipped into the backseat, Aunt Lena announced, “No husband of mine is going to a strip joint alone.” Before I could point out he wasn’t alone, she added, “You’re not exactly a good influence.”
“Hey! I’m right here, you know.” Ed grabbed my aunt’s hand. “Lena, those women in there can’t hold a candle to you.”
She gave him a confident smile. “I know, but I still don’t like you being here. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s my niece’s decisions I don’t always trust.”
Tamping down on my irritation, I assured her, “It’s going to be fine. Really.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, Miss Bright Idea. What’s the plan?”
When I hesitated, Ed jumped in. “Lena, you and me go inside. Then you act like you’re mad we’re here. Start yelling at me. Make a big commotion. Claire, you sneak in and try talking to the dancers. I’ll keep watching and when you leave, me and Lena will make up and leave. What’dya think, Claire?”
“Could work.” Especially since I didn’t have any better plan.
Ed leaned over and kissed my aunt. “Ready?”
She blew out a deep breath. “I suppose.” She looked straight at me. “Your mother’s probably turning over in her grave seeing what I’m doing to take care of you.”
I patted my aunt’s shoulder. “Mom would understand.”
Aunt Lena harrumphed.
After handing me the car keys to lock up, Ed helped my aunt out of the car. Together they strolled arm-in-arm into Diamond Girls.
I followed and waited in the joint’s dimly lit alcove for the Ed-and-Lena show. It didn’t take long. My aunt pointed to the table right in front of the stage and the host, led them there. As soon as they were seated, the blonde dancer I’d spoken to earlier sauntered on to the stage. Fully dressed in a short, pleated skirt and white blouse, she resembled a Catholic school girl. In one motion she discarded her top and then stepped out of her skirt, wearing only a thong and pasties.
Cupcakes and Corpses Page 6