Cupcakes and Corpses

by Carole Fowkes

  As cool and smooth as marble, he responded, “I do. But let’s give the sax the whole hour. By the way, have you practiced any?”

  “No. Haven’t had time.” I lifted my face up and caught his eye. “I’ve been busy looking into some incidents that took place in Pittsburgh. About ten years ago.”

  I’d laid out the bait, but he didn’t go near the trap. “Hmm. Let’s start from the top again.”

  “Before we do, is there a restroom?”

  He frowned then reversed it into a smile. “Of course. Go up to that hall and turn right.”

  Past the restroom was a storage room. Checking to make sure I was out of Todd’s view, I peeked inside. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I spotted a stack of receipts. They were addressed to Todd B. Shotswell. B for Birch?

  I closed the door as quietly as I could and ducked into the restroom to think. My ideas were so busy bouncing off my skull I didn’t hear him knocking.

  “Are you all right, Claire?”

  I opened the door. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I just, well, didn’t want you to hide in there dreading the rest of the lesson.”

  My laugh sounded as brittle as uncooked fettuccini. “I’m not feeling well. Could we postpone this?”

  He hesitated just a moment. “Yes, of course.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Why don’t you call me when you’re feeling better?”

  Acutely aware of his studying me, I fumbled as I disassembled my sax and put it away.

  As I walked out the door, he called after me to take care of myself. “Don’t go playing any bingo games until you feel better.”

  That last comment chilled me enough to need the car’s heater on. Making sure Todd wasn’t following me, I headed to the police station.

  Corrigan listened to my rushed explanations. When I’d finished, he scowled. “So Todd Shotswell is Jerry Wolden’s nephew and he may have killed his mother. But there’s no evidence. Shotswell’s middle initial was ‘B’. Looked it up and it does stand for Birch. Probably a few other guys have that same name. Although he’s a good ten years younger than Eileen, let’s say he did know her, but again, no evidence. And nothing indicates he lived in Pittsburgh. Ever. And last but not least, what’s his motive?”

  “Blackmail. There’s no evidence he lived in Pittsburgh because he went by another name.” My eyes narrowed. “Have you bothered to look at that picture of Birch? I bet anything it’s a match for Todd.”

  Corrigan leaned back in his chair and templed his fingers. “Sure. I’ve looked at it.” He sat forward again I suppose to show his earnestness. “Okay. I’ll get the picture blown up and studied. We’ll see if there’s any connection between Shotswell and Birch, the guitar player. But again, even if they’re the same guy, there’s no evidence he’s killed anyone.”

  “No evidence yet. You’ll let me know as soon as you find something?”

  He patted my hand. “Promise. Hey, I’ve got to get back to yet another anonymous tip. I’ll call you later.”

  Feeling somewhat defeated, I returned to my car and then to Charlie and my apartment. At least my dog would listen to my ideas without thinking I’d gone off the deep end.

  ***

  Here it was, Saturday evening and I was eating leftover pizza with Charlie as my date. He was a lousy dinner partner, since he kept leaving his food bowl to beg for some of my meal. I finally gave in and tossed him a piece of the melted-then-hardened cheese. He chewed it and then spit it out. Even he had higher standards.

  As a reward for finishing the leftovers, I scrounged in my freezer and came up with half a chocolate chunk peanut butter cookie. No idea where the other half had gone.

  I defrosted it and sat at my computer, working the facts in the Red Bow Killer cases.

  Say Todd was the Birch. After all, he was a musician and had known ties to at least some of the victims, besides Eileen. Eileen was probably blackmailing him, but what was it about the ribbon and why kill all those other women? Even his uncle didn’t trust him. Why? I had no answers. The same doubts Corrigan had formed an unending circle in my brain.

  Tired of questions without answers, I picked up Charlie’s leash for one last stroll outside. He jumped up, wagging his tail and trotting to the door. With my gun and keys in hand, we stepped out into the hallway.

  Down the sidewalk we strolled. I coaxed Charlie to stop sniffing everything and do what needed to be done. At long last, he complied and then back up the stairs we went.

  My mind still occupied with Todd Birch Shotswell, I unlocked my door and was about to step inside when footsteps echoed through the hallway.

  A loud, “Claire.” It was Todd. Now almost right behind me.

  What’s he doing here? I wanted to dash inside my apartment and bolt the door, but my feet felt stuck to the hallway carpet.

  He wore an apologetic smile. “I would’ve called you, but I couldn’t read the phone number you gave me. Something came up with the relative I told you about and I’m going to have to close the studio for a while. Given the circumstances, I think the fairest thing I can do is refund your money like we discussed.” He removed a check from his pocket and held it out to me.

  For a moment, I let my guard down. As I reached for the check, he grabbed my wrist and yanked so hard I thought he’d dislocated it. A second later he had me in a choke hold, dragging me into my apartment.

  He attempted to slam the door after us, but Charlie leaped inside and came to my defense, plunging his teeth into Todd’s trousers. Todd, trying to get loose, shook his leg hard, but Charlie hung on.

  My dear dog’s effort was enough to knock Todd off balance and I escaped his grip. I elbowed my assailant in the gut, whipped around and had my gun on him before he could take a breath.

  I called off Charlie, who released Todd, but continued growling at the man.

  My breaths came in pants, synchronized with Charlie’s. “Sit down, Todd.” Watching him closely, I felt around for my purse, hoping to grab my phone.

  His soulless eyes followed my moves, making me clumsy. I fumbled and lost my hold on my purse. The phone slipped out, and for just a second, I foolishly glanced down to could grab it. That was all Todd needed to leap up and try to wrestle the gun from my sweaty hand. In our struggle, my phone slid out of reach.

  Charlie again sprang into action, valiantly nipping and barking at Todd, while the killer and I grappled for the gun. His vicious kick to Charlie landed and my poor brave pup lay there whimpering. He was going to pay for hurting my dog. I let out a Braveheart-like war cry and dug the nails of my free hand into Todd’s face.

  He released a guttural sound and slapped me hard with his left hand.

  Reeling from the blow, my grip slipped from the gun. The weapon was now his alone.

  He snarled, “Okay, Claire, your turn to sit down.” He pushed me hard and I stumbled back onto the sofa. Keeping the gun on me, he tore off the tie he was wearing and bound my hands.

  After he was done, he leaned against the wall across from me. “You know, this isn’t how I’d wanted this.”

  “You didn’t want to kill me?”

  “Yes, of course. From the first time you came into my studio I knew you weren’t really interested in saxophone lessons. So I did my research. You’re a private investigator. My uncle hired your firm to investigate me. But I turned the tables. I have to admit, stalking, but not harming you made it interesting. Even breaking into your apartment was exhilarating, leaving you a clue, teasing you.”

  That half of a cookie I’d eaten soured in my belly. I should have called the cops that night.

  He continued, sounding almost regretful. “But the fun has to end and I have to kill you now. But it’s really not my fault. You know, it’s Eileen’s. All of this.”

  “What do you mean?” The longer we talked, the better my chances of staying alive. “Because she was blackmailing you?”

  He tsk’d. “She wasn’t blackmailing me.” His face softened. “We were going to get marr
ied. I wasn’t good at saving, so every week I gave her part of the money I made with the band. We were putting it toward our wedding.”

  “But what happened?”

  He released a short, bitter laugh. “She said I could trust her with anything and I believed her, until the night we were celebrating. I had too much to drink. I told her about the women, what I’d done. I promised her I wouldn’t do it again. But she wouldn’t listen. Turned out, she was just like all the others.”

  My head was buzzing. “The other women?”

  His upper lip curled. “Selfish pigs. All of them. They deserved to die. Just like my mother. Just like Eileen.”

  My voice quivered. “What did they do that was so bad?” I took a stab at the answer. “Play bingo?”

  He waved the gun around and I could feel my heart batting against my chest, terrified the weapon would go off. “Yes. Bingo!” His brow lowered and he snarled, “My dear mother left me, a 12-year-old, to take care of my sick father. She was too busy with bingo. He died while she was playing. On his birthday. Which also happened to be my birthday. She had to pay, so I killed her. Tied a red bow around her neck as a present to him. And to me.” An icy smile passed across his lips. “Just like all the women after her. Presents for both of us. The red bow is a nice touch, don’t you think?”

  Struggling to keep my hysteria at bay, I asked, “But Rose didn’t even play bingo.”

  He waved my comment away saying, “A bar fly who couldn’t stay away from musicians.”

  “But—”

  He ignored my objection and continued with his own narrative. “I stopped when Eileen and I got engaged. Since the cops charged someone else for the murders, we had a clean slate. But she still ran away from me and my secret.” He rubbed his temple with his free hand. “I had to find her and kill her too.” Dreamily, he added, “It was a sweet reunion.”

  Keep him talking. “How did you get out of the concert to kill Mrs. Amato? You were playing the clarinet in front of an audience.”

  Dripping with smugness, he answered, “After the intermission, I switched to the piano. For the first two overtures, I didn’t play and the lights weren’t on me. I had enough time to do what needed to be done. Vincenza’s house was only five minutes away.”

  I wanted to squeeze the life out of him. Instead, I tried persuasion. “You made up for your dad’s death. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to keep killing, especially not after all this time.”

  “Stop talking.” Todd cocked the gun, aiming it at my head. Beads of sweat popped out from his temples. “You don’t know what he suffered. Those women I killed deserved to die.” His face brightened. “You’ll be the last. Then I’ll leave town. Close the shop. Nothing left to hold me here. Not even my uncle.” Had he killed Jerry too?

  My eyes darted around the room and I’d wished I’d taught Charlie how to call 911. “Why don’t you start with a clean slate now? I won’t say a word about what you told me. Besides, I don’t even play bingo.” I was bargaining with the devil.

  With a phony sad smile he said, “It doesn’t matter, Claire. You know too much.” With his free hand, he extracted a red ribbon from his pants pocket.

  I was desperate and trembling all over. But I had to keep my wits about me. “If you shoot me, I’ll bleed all over the ribbon and spoil the present.”

  He moved closer until he was almost on top of me. “I’m not going to shoot you. Not unless I have to.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie rise and with one final effort, he jumped onto Todd. The dog was too weak to do any damage, but it was enough to make Todd lose his footing, giving me the opportunity to ram my head into him. We tumbled onto the ground together, the gun slipping from his hand. I kicked at him, fighting for my life.

  My strength was almost gone, and it was clear without my hands I couldn’t win this battle. Then I spotted the saxophone case half-hidden under the sofa. A lucky knee to Todd’s groin gave me the chance to drop down. I scratched at the case until I could grab hold of it. With my last burst of energy, I yanked the heavy thing out with both hands, swung it and connected with the side of Todd’s head.

  He fell over, unconscious, but his chest continued to rise and fall. I darted into the kitchen for my butcher knife and rubbed it against the tie. As soon as I was able to free my hands, I called the police.

  After that, I turned that piece of human trash over and bound his hands with Charlie’s leash. Then, grabbing a pair of my tights, I tied his ankles.

  I could hear the wailing of the police sirens when Todd, still groggy, awoke. With my gun focused on him, I couldn’t help myself. “So Rose liked musicians. Some of the other victims played instruments. What was so bad about that?”

  He grimaced. “Did I tell you my mother was also a musician?”

  There was so much more I wanted to ask, but from the sound of the sirens the police were close.

  He coughed. “Claire, before they get here, could I have some water? Please?”

  Grudgingly, but seeing no harm in it, I went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard to get a glass. I set the gun down to turn the water on. The glass was half full when I was jerked back. Todd had the cold blade of a knife against my neck.

  “You should’ve searched me for other weapons, Claire.”

  I stood deathly still. “The cops are almost here. Put the knife down, Todd.”

  With a sinister laugh he said, “We’ll go together.”

  I threw the water in his face. He stepped backwards and tripped over my wonderful, brave dog. With that jarring motion, the knife slipped, leaving a ribbon of pain across my shoulder.

  Todd lunged at me, subhuman rage in his eyes.

  I spun around, grabbed my gun and shot him. The bullet pushed him back a bit as it entered his upper arm. He wasn’t deterred. Jaw locked, his eyes hard, he came at me again.

  Knowing this was my last chance to live, I pulled the trigger again.

  Frankenstein-like, he lurched at me, then stumbled and collapsed. He was dead.

  When I bent over Todd, a drop of blood splattered onto his arm. My blood. My hand flew up to my throbbing shoulder and came away crimson.

  “This is the police. Open up.” I grabbed a towel and made it to the door just before they broke it down.

  The officers went about their business while the EMT’s examined me. Luckily Todd’s slash to my shoulder was long, but not deep enough to require anything more than bandaging.

  But my poor brave Charlie was hurt. Unfortunately the cops told me I had to give my statement before I could leave.

  I was frantic. “But my dog needs a vet! Now!” One of the emergency rescuers took pity on me and called a 24 hour animal clinic. They’d see Charlie as soon as I could get him there.

  Less than three minutes later, Corrigan busted into my apartment, his face wild with worry. As soon as he spotted me, he rushed to my side. Pulling me to him, he whispered, “Thank God you’re okay.”

  “Me too.” Was all I could think to say.

  Then remembering himself, he dropped his arms and cleared his throat. “I’ll need your statement.”

  Leaving nothing out, I ended my report to Corrigan with, “Todd was the Red Bow Killer. All because his mother played bingo instead of taking care of Todd’s father.”

  “He didn’t limit it just to women. We found Jerry Wolden’s body. Looks like Shotswell killed him too. Oh, by the way, the photo helped us ID Shotswell. He went by the name of Birch Wilson in Pittsburgh. But he may have been responsible for a number of unsolved deaths before then. We’re still investigating.”

  “Yeah, he told me about killing the women in Pittsburgh. What about his last victim? The woman he left alive?”

  “She’s responding to simple commands. The doctors think she’ll recover fully. If so, she can corroborate your information.”

  Corrigan closed his notepad and stuck it in his jacket pocket. Then he leaned over and wrapped my hands in his larger ones. “I wish this hadn’t happened to you
. I wish you weren’t determined to put yourself in harm’s way all the time. But I’m glad you’re okay and,” He took a deep breath, “I’m so proud of you.”

  I felt like the Cowardly Lion being told he was brave. My face must have glowed. I thought I’d never hear those words from him. I even temporarily forgot the pain from the cut on my shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  It was only the middle of September and the leaves had already turned red and yellow with some cascading down onto the lawns and streets. Luckily the weather hadn’t taken its final turn toward autumn and the temperature was projected to be in the upper 60’s. Perfect for my dad’s wedding.

  My jersey knit bridesmaid’s dress fit perfectly. None of the unsightly bulges that had concerned me when I bought the outfit. Suzy had trimmed and thinned my thick hair and showed me how to wear the flower clip. I had to admit, the piece was a nice contrast to my dark strands.

  Charlie nuzzled me in an attempt to get me to stay home with him. He’d had several fractured ribs courtesy of Todd Shotswell, but after two and a half months he was up and about. I rewarded his valor by signing him up for a toy-a-month club.

  I picked up my purse and headed toward the door. After the investigation, I’d received the $10,000 reward for Eileen’s killer. I gave half of it to Gino. Only fair. I couldn’t have linked all the clues together without him. Plus that allowed him to pay off Griselli without Betty knowing.

  First time I’d ever seen Gino at a loss for words.

  By the time I arrived at Suzy’s house, three other cars were already parked in the driveway. Inside, my aunt was barking orders like a drill sergeant with a hangover. “Don’t sit down! You’ll ruin the line of the dress.”

  Despite these and other admonishments from my family and from an older cousin of Suzy’s I didn’t even know she had, Suzy looked radiant. And calm.

  When I marveled at her serenity, she whispered to me, “When you’re a hairdresser, you learn to take everything in your stride.”

  Ed, who had agreed to drive the bridal party to the church, was standing on the sidelines cracking his knuckles. I caught his eye and he grinned.