Transposition

by Gregory Ashe

  Somers was rubbing a hand through his messy hair. “They give me the creeps.”

  “Who?”

  “All of them.” Somers shook his head. “You know what an infection smells like?”

  “What?”

  “It’s like that in here. Sick. Turns my stomach. I don’t know what’s been going on here, but these people are crazy. The way they reacted when I told them Strong had been killed—”

  “You can smell how they feel?”

  “It’s a metaphor, asshole.”

  Hazard felt a tight smile on his face, and a moment later, Somers mirrored the expression. “All right,” Hazard said. “It stands to reason our murderer is in one of these rooms. It also stands to reason that it’s either Leza or Adaline. But until we can prove that, we have to keep our eyes on all of them.”

  “Add Meryl to our list.”

  “What? Why?”

  “She’s lying.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But somehow you know she’s lying.”

  Somers set his jaw. “I know what I heard, and she’s lying about something.”

  “What did she—” But before Hazard could finish the question, Somers’s phone buzzed, and Cravens’s name appeared on the screen. Hazard picked up the call.

  “Well?”

  “Bad news. What’s the weather like at the house?”

  Hazard moved down the hallway towards the landing that overlooked Windsor’s entryway. The wind had picked up, and snow rose and fell in powdery waves, rattling against the windows in thousands upon thousands of brittle granules. Overhead, the clouds raced. Realization dawned inside Hazard.

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “I’m sorry, Detective. It’s too dangerous for a helicopter. The storm is supposed to break any minute, and this is a big one. We’re talking a day, maybe two.”

  “I’ve got a dead body in this house, Chief, and I’ve got a murderer under the roof.”

  “I know. I ran this all the way up to the mayor, and we’re doing everything we can. Document the scene as best you can. Get a statement from everyone and keep an eye on them. Can you give me their names?”

  Hazard rattled them off and then added, “They’re working for Strong, Matley, Gross.”

  “I know who they work for, Detective. I’ll call back when I can tell you something useful.”

  “And what am I supposed to do?”

  “I already told you: document the scene and take statements. There’s a good chance the murderer will go back and try to destroy any evidence that might be there. Do what you can to prevent that.”

  “The car’s—”

  “I know about the car, Detective. I’m not stupid.” Cravens’s drew a rough breath. “You may not have your equipment, but you’re smart. Do the best you can.” Her breathing quieted, and in a softer voice, Cravens added, “Detective?”

  “Yes.”

  “Be careful.”

  Hazard walked back to Somers and returned the phone.

  “No chopper,” Somers said.

  “No. Cravens says it’ll be a day, maybe two before the storm blows out and they can get someone in here.”

  “We weren’t supposed to be here, Hazard. If the killer was planning this, we’ve messed everything up. Even if it was an accident, we’re now the biggest threat. We’ve got targets on our backs.”

  “Yeah? And what the hell do you want me to do about it?”

  “What I want,” Somers said, “is to solve this murder.”

  Hazard blew out a breath. “Then take statements.”

  “What?”

  “Get statements from them. All of them. I’ll stay here and make sure nobody tries anything funny.”

  At that moment, Meryl poked her head out of her room. “Detective, what happened to Thomas? Who did this?”

  “When we know something,” Hazard said, “we’ll tell you. Until then, stay put.”

  Meryl hesitated, as though considering an argument, and then retreated. Somers let out a sigh.

  “Statements?” he said.

  “From all of them.”

  “Couldn’t we—“

  “Either you take the statements,” Hazard said. “Or I do.”

  With a shudder, Somers shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll do it.”

  “Fine.”

  “We don’t need any witnesses with broken jaws.”

  “I said fine. And that was one time, Somers.”

  “Or a witness who conveniently slips near a storm drain.

  “He was reaching for a piece of rebar.”

  “And we definitely don’t need you screwing the brains out of any of these folks like you did with our last key witness. Hey, speaking of Nico—”

  Hazard was growling, but before he could take a swing, Somers sauntered down the hallway, a shit-eating grin on his face as he headed for the first room.

  HAZARD STARED AT HIS PARTNER. “That’s it?”

  Scrubbing at his eyes, Somers shrugged. “You want to try?”

  “I’d get more than this.”

  “Go ahead.” Somers jerked a thumb at the doors. “Try.”

  “Nothing. That’s what you’re telling me: you got nothing.”

  “They all claim to have been asleep all night in their bed. No one heard anything. No one saw anything. No one got up for so much as a drink of water. Nobody can believe Thomas was shot. Nobody can think of anyone who might want to hurt him. Ree, I know it’s bullshit. I’m not an idiot. One of them’s lying. Maybe they’re all lying. Not a single one has an alibi worth a piss in the dark. But that’s all I can get out of them. That’s all we’re going to get, I’m afraid, until we have something we can pin them down with.”

  “This is a mess.”

  Somers patted him on his good shoulder. “I recorded all of it,” Somers said, waving his phone as proof. “Not that it’s worth much.”

  “This is a fucking mess. We’ve got procedures, Somers. We’ve got protocol. We do this stuff so that these miserable sons of bitches have as little opportunity as possible to screw everything up.”

  “Hey, doofus.” Somers tapped the center of Hazard’s forehead, and Hazard jerked his head away in irritation. “I know, ok? I get it. It’s a shitty situation, and it’s made even shittier with the storm. We can’t keep them locked up forever. They’re not in custody, and at some point, one of them is going to figure out that they don’t have to do what we ask them to do. At that point, we lose the only advantage we have right now.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “I’m not insane.”

  “You’re saying let them out of their rooms so they can, what? Come up with stories together? Work on their lies together? Sneak into the office and destroy the evidence?”

  “Lies? Stories? Ree, they all claim they were in bed all night. Unless somebody cracks and tells us something different, unless we find a hidden video recording that shows them out of bed last night, we’ve got nothing that says otherwise. Instead of tying ourselves down in this hallway, waiting for one of these lunatics to crack, let’s work this case as best we can while we still have an edge.”

  “An edge? We’ve got no equipment. We’ve got no resources. We’re outnumbered. And, as you said, we’re the enemy.” Hazard glanced through the doorway at the remaining guests and added, “As soon as they figure that out, they’re going to clam up. Or worse. Our best bet is to hole up in the office, document the shit out of it, and hope nobody shoots us in the back when we come out to take a piss.”

  “Meanwhile, the killer might escape. Or might kill again. We’ve can’t hole up; we’ve got to work smart and work fast. You’ve got the brains. You can figure this out. Tell me what we know.”

  “Somers, this isn’t a game—”

  “Tell me.”

  Hazard took a moment to breathe and gather his thoughts. “Strong was shot in the chest. Someone left the window open. Something slid through the snow on the roof.”

 
; “Was he shot in the office?”

  “Good question. We’ll have to look into that when we go back in there.”

  “Time of death?”

  “No idea. Another good question.”

  “And the whereabouts of our suspects?”

  “Could have been anywhere.”

  Somers grimaced. “Until we have a timeframe on the death and some sort of hard evidence, it’s going to be hard to figure out opportunity. As far as we know, anybody could have gotten out of bed, walked into that office, and shot Strong.”

  “Not without somebody hearing a shot.”

  “But nobody did hear the shot. That means either the storm was loud enough to mask the sound, or the shooter had a suppressor. Or both.”

  “Or someone’s lying,” Hazard said. “That brings us to means. Whoever killed Strong had access to a firearm.”

  “They were at the shooting range yesterday.”

  “But this was a small-caliber handgun, not a rifle. It had to be something discreet, something the killer could carry without being noticed.”

  “They might have handguns at the range.”

  “All right, so we have to check the range. As for motive—”

  “The secretary. Somebody throwing mashed potatoes on me would make me want to kill him.”

  Hazard nodded. “But Meryl made it clear that Strong had changed and been acting like a bully recently. He might have pissed off any of them. Most likely, he pissed off all of them.”

  “So anybody could have gotten a gun, anybody could have slipped out of bed, and anybody could have plenty of reason to kill Thomas Strong.” Somers wore a crooked grin. “I like the easy cases.”

  With a grunt, Hazard gestured towards the office. “Let me search under the window before we go free-range. If the murderer did toss something out the window, we need to check now, before someone has a chance to recover it.”

  Somers nodded, and Hazard headed down the stairs. His search of the area around the main house, though, revealed nothing. After twenty minutes of digging through the drift under the study window, Hazard surrendered and returned inside. Snowmelt dripped down into his eyes, and for some goddamn reason, Somers seemed to find that amusing.

  “If the killer threw the murder weapon out here, it’s gone.”

  “Or it’s buried and we won’t find it until spring,” Somers said. He glanced at the office window and added, “Something cleared a lot of snow off the roof, though. Something a lot bigger than a gun.”

  Hazard nodded, but he had nothing to add; Somers was right, and whatever the killer had pushed out the window, there was no sign of it now. The killer must have already gone outside and retrieved it. Immediately after the murder, perhaps—although why go to the trouble of throwing it out the window? Or perhaps the murderer had left through the window? Hazard didn’t like that option. It meant that there might be someone else at Windsor, someone he didn’t know about.

  “I’ll hustle them down to the dining room,” Somers said. “And I’ll keep them together until you finish processing the scene.”

  “Let me know if you need me.”

  “It would be a lot easier to talk to you if your phone were working.”

  “It would also be a lot easier if you didn’t have a broken jaw.”

  To Hazard’s surprise, Somers grinned. “Message received. You know, you could have done all sorts of clever things if you hadn’t broken that phone.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You could have sent Nico some nice, loving texts.”

  “I don’t have time to send Nico texts. We’re trapped with a murderer, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “You could have scheduled them. Write them all up at once, and then they get sent throughout the day. It’s easy. I’ll show you. Actually, come to think of it, you could send him more than just texts. You could send him pictures. You shirtless. You doing some push-ups. A few dick pics—”

  “Somers, shut your mouth. Right now.”

  Somers cocked his head, barely hiding a smile. “Well, until you get a new phone, you’d better use mine. You’ll have to take pictures. Of the murder. Not dick pics, I mean, unless you—”

  With a grin, Somers dodged the punch.

  Snatching the phone, Hazard turned it over in his hands and tapped the home button. The screen illuminated and displayed a locked interface.

  “I need your passcode.”

  “My birthday.”

  Hazard spun the phone back towards Somers. “I don’t know your birthday.”

  Honest shock filled Somers’s features. “Come on, don’t mess around.”

  “I don’t know it.”

  “You obviously know my birthday.”

  “I don’t.”

  Shock still pulled at the corners of Somers’s eyes. In a confused voice, he said, “Ree, you’re lying. We grew up together. My mom sent cupcakes to school every year on my birthday. You knew everything about me in high school. My football stats, my—”

  “Don’t call me that. And will you just tell me already?”

  “April 24, 1984.”

  Through gritted teeth, Hazard managed to say, “That’s my birthday.”

  “I know. I’m proving that I know your birthday. And you know mine, so just ’fess up and admit it already.”

  “I don’t,” Hazard said in staccato bursts, “know it.”

  “Fine,” Somers said, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. Taking the phone from Hazard, he punched in a series of numbers and handed it back. “I guess you’ll just have to ask me to unlock it. Unless, that is, you happen to remember.”

  “This is stupid. I’m not going to come running to you every time I need to use your phone.”

  “Well, if you do remember my birthday, you should be fine. If you don’t, you’ll just have to keep busy. As long you as you keep using it, the screen won’t auto-lock.” Without another word, Somers brushed past Hazard and into the living room.

  Hazard stared after his partner, trying to figure out what had happened. Then, shoving the phone into his pocket, he followed Somers to get everyone moving.

  When they tried herding the guests down to the dining room, though, they met an impasse.

  “You can’t do this.” Benny was the loudest objector. He wore a rumpled cotton t-shirt proclaiming the beauty of Gulf Shores and leopard print boxers that had slid up his flabby thighs, and his fringe of hair stood up at the back. In spite of his attire, he seemed unfazed at the prospect of standing up to the detectives. “We have rights. Habeas corpus, ever heard of it? We’re not going to be treated like prisoners when we’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “One of you has done something wrong,” Hazard said.

  Somers flashed him a look that said to shut the hell up, and Hazard managed to grit his teeth. In a smooth voice, Somers said, “Mr. Prock, I understand you’re upset. This is upsetting for everyone. Here’s the reality, though: someone killed Mr. Strong, and that person might still be in this house. Your safety is our number one concern. On top of that, the entire building is a crime scene. Until we can guarantee that all the evidence has been documented and, more importantly, until we’re sure you’re safe, we’re going to ask you to stay together. One of us will stay with you at all times for the same reason.”

  Benny’s mouth twisted with anger. “And I suppose every time I need to go to the bathroom, we’ll all go as a group? I have a medical condition. Do you understand that?”

  “Thank you for letting me know,” Somers said, still in that impossibly friendly voice that Hazard half-envied. “We’ll work it out, I promise you. For now, wouldn’t you all like some coffee and a bite to eat? We’ll head downstairs to the dining room. How does that sound?”

  With a grimace, Benny nodded.

  “You know,” Leza said, pulling a silk robe around her shoulders and managing to expose a fair amount of bosom as she did. At some point, Hazard noticed, she had taken the time to change out of her maid’s uniform. “Keeping us together might be
exactly what the murderer wants. I don’t think this is a smart plan at all.”

  “Leza, come on,” Meryl said in a tone of exasperation. “We’ll have one of the detectives with us. The murderer won’t try anything.”

  “Maybe,” Leza said with a shrug that caused the gossamer robe to slip and expose more of her breasts and shoulders. Her eyes, Hazard noticed, looked hungry enough to eat Somers in two bites. “Unless, of course, one of the detectives is the killer.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Meryl said, but she glanced at the men with concern in her eyes.

  “They flashed their badges,” Adaline said. The small, plain-faced woman—who was, Hazard reminded himself, their chief suspect—had managed to fade into the background until now. Her dark hair hung in a messy curtain, and she continuously pushed it out of her eyes. “But anybody can get a badge, even a pretty decent imitation of one.”

  “Well, well, well,” Leza said, sharing a toothy smile. “She makes a very good point, Detective. If, that is, you are a detective.”

  “If I weren’t a detective,” Hazard said, his anger finally causing him to break his silence. “And if I were a murderer, what do you think I’d do if I thought you suspected me?”

  “Kill us,” Ran said with a shrill giggle. “You’d kill us right now.”

  “Jesus, Hazard,” Somers muttered. In a louder voice, he said, “If it’ll make you happy, you can call into the station with our badge numbers and verify we are who we say we are. Will that be all right?”

  Columbia, lurking at the back of the group, pouted. Her long dark hair curled over her shoulders, and her fox-face showed its familiar mocking expression. “I was hoping,” she said in her husky voice, “for a strip-search at the very least.”

  Benny shook his head, and Hazard noted the flicker of disgust in his features. “This is ridiculous, and now Col—Columbia’s started, so I’m done. Let’s go get something to eat. Leza, you’re the damn maid, go make something for us. Adaline, if you’re so worried, you can call in about the badges.”

  “You’re not in charge, Benny,” Leza snapped. “You fat, balding—”

  Swearing under his breath, Benny shoved past Somers and started towards the stairs.