The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club - Book One

by Ann Warner

  Colter popped up. It was clearly a mistake. His face contorted with agony, and he sat panting for a time before he could speak.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Detective McElroy. We’ve met before. When I came to investigate the items missing from residents’ apartments. And since then, you know what? I figured out what those grocery receipts and affidavits that someone sent us anonymously are about. You’ve been stealing from the people you shop for. That also makes you my chief suspect for the larger thefts.”

  “No! I didn’t have nothing to do with that. Okay, okay, I did skim a couple of bucks here and there, but that’s it. I swear it is.”

  “Just like you’re now swearing that Devi Subramanian attacked you without provocation?”

  “I only wanted to ask her whose idea the party was. She overreacted, man. I mean, look at me, and there’s not a mark on her.”

  “Actually, she has a nasty bruise on her arm. In my book, that gave her a clear right to defend herself.”

  “Can I help it if she bruises easy? Look what she did to me, man.”

  “Yeah. I hear you. Sounds like she’s definitely someone you don’t want to piss off.”

  “Exactly. You got it.”

  “Even if she is half your size.” I simply couldn’t resist.

  “Oh, man. You’re cruel.”

  “Tell me again about the thefts.”

  I led him laboriously through the details of his grocery-shopping scam. From there we segued into the thefts of the stamp, baseball card, and necklace that Eddie continued to deny involvement with.

  “Okay. Let’s get back to what happened today. Since you’ve admitted you initiated the interaction and acted aggressively toward Ms. Subramanian, I’ll be speaking with her to see if she wishes to press charges.”

  “Wait. No, you can’t do that. Look at me. She attacked me, man.”

  “We’ve already been through all that.”

  He sank back and stared at the ceiling.

  “This completes the interview with Eddie Colter.” I added the time, shut off the recorder, and put it and my notebook away.

  “Wait. You recorded this?”

  I wondered if the pain was dulling Colter’s mind or whether Colter wasn’t very bright to begin with. Likely a combination.

  “It’s standard procedure.”

  I stood, and Colter turned his head to glare at me.

  “We’re done for the moment, Mr. Colter, but I suggest you stay away from Ms. Subramanian.”

  I returned to Brookside’s main office complex and asked to see the manager. Our interaction was brief and to the point, with him saying he would speak to both Colter and Devi about the incident. I next went to the station to file my report and download the recordings of the two interviews. Then I called Josephine.

  She invited me to dinner. “That is, if you wouldn’t mind picking up takeout, Mac?”

  “Sure, happy to do it.”

  She named a restaurant, said she’d put in an order, and for me to come as soon as I could.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Josephine

  When Devi knocked on my door the day of the party for Eddie, I assumed she’d come to give us a report. Lill was finally awake, and we’d been waiting for Devi. But it wasn’t the party she wanted to talk about. It was her latest run-in with Eddie including the report that she’d managed to kick Eddie in the groin hard enough to make him double over in pain.

  “Well, if there was ever a man who deserved to have his nifkin whacked, that man is Eddie.”

  Devi looked puzzled, but after a moment Lill remembered what the word referred to and chortled. Devi smiled, but only briefly, when I explained.

  After that moment of levity, Devi once again looked so stressed, I was ready to march down to Mr. Souter’s office and demand that he fire Eddie forthwith, as they’re always saying on that one cop show on television—as in, “we need backup, forthwith.” Devi managed to stop me, but only because by then it was after five, and Mr. Souter always leaves by five.

  Mac called shortly after that, and I invited him for dinner. I placed an order with the Mediterranean restaurant that I knew Devi liked, paying with a credit card, one Jeff doesn’t know about.

  Mac showed up forty-five minutes later with enough hummus, ezme, Greek salad, zucchini pancakes, and kebabs for at least three more people. He also brought a quart of Graeter’s black raspberry chocolate chip ice cream. I considered that pretty intuitive for a man; to think that we might need more comfort than hummus and kebabs could provide.

  But then, he’d already talked to Devi and knew what Eddie did to her.

  “What did Eddie have to say?” I asked as soon as Mac was in the door. He proceeded to unpack the food without answering.

  “Well?” I said once we were all sitting around the table with full plates in front of us.

  “He was in pretty bad shape,” Mac said, but he had a twinkle in his eye.

  “Good,” I said. “He’s not going to press charges, is he?”

  “Not easy to do once he admitted he was the one who initiated the interaction.”

  Devi sighed with obvious relief.

  “He tried to slant it the other way, though,” Mac said, looking at Devi. “Just like you thought he might. Said you were the one who invited him into the empty apartment and then threw yourself at him. That when he rejected you, you went ballistic and beat him up.”

  “You didn’t believe that for a second, did you?” I said.

  “Of course not.”

  “What happens next?”

  “I’ve already spoken to Souter about the incident. He said he’ll speak to Colter, hopefully to tell him his services are no longer required. I also got Colter to admit he was stealing from his grocery customers.”

  “How did you get him to do that?” I said.

  “Good police work,” Mac said with a smug expression.

  “What about the other thefts?” Lill said. “Did you ask him about those?”

  “I did. He denies any involvement. And the funny thing is, I tend to believe him.”

  “Why?”

  “I think he’s okay with the little stuff, but I don’t think he has the nerve for something more complex. Heck, don’t forget the man threw in the towel after only two hits from a woman half his size.”

  “Yes, I could see that in his handwriting,” Lill said. “Like many bullies, he’s a coward. I agree with you that it’s unlikely he’s our big thief.”

  “Have you found any of the missing items?” I asked Mac.

  He shook his head. “There was an inverted Jenny stamp sold a couple of months ago, but it traced back to a lawyer in Indianapolis who claimed the owner was a long-time client and Indianapolis resident.”

  “Since none of the items have surfaced, that could mean our thief is both smart and patient,” Lill said in a thoughtful tone. “That doesn’t match Eddie’s profile either. It’s clear from the far forward slant of his handwriting that he has impulse-control issues. I think our thief is someone who is very analytical and disciplined.”

  “Have you found anyone like that?” Mac said.

  Lill frowned. “You know, I think I do remember one profile . . .” She shook her head. “I’ll have to look through them all to find it. That last batch I did are a blur.”

  “The other thing you’ll be glad to know is that Colter confirmed he doesn’t have a daughter.”

  “He did look very uncomfortable today while Myrtle was making the presentations,” Devi said. “But I still worried, just a little, that it could be true.”

  “Yes, so did I,” I said. “It’s a good thing we talked Myrtle into setting up a general fund.”

  “Myrtle’s not going to be happy to hear there’s no Sara,” Devi said.

  “There are other Saras. And Myrtle needs to get over herself,” Lill said.

  That was more like something I would say, and I think it startled everyone, including Lill, but then we all chuckled.

&n
bsp; We finished eating, and Devi and Mac cleared the table while Lill fetched her analyses for us to look through. I did like the easy way Devi and Mac worked together on the dishes. I considered it a good sign.

  Lill first divided all her reports into two piles. “Here are the people with the easiest access, and these are lesser suspects. I did a more thorough review for these than I did for these,” she said pointing to each pile in turn.

  I huffed. “So, what we’re looking for is someone who’s smart, analytical, and patient. That’s not much to go on. Besides, that pretty much describes you and me,” I told Lill.

  “Honey, I wouldn’t say patience is your strong suit,” Lill said.

  I could tell Devi and Mac were both trying not to smile. “Well, yes,” I agreed. “You’re probably right.”

  “Another thing to consider,” Lill said, “while everyone lies and even steals under the proper circumstances, the person doing this is likely more bent than the average.”

  “And that’s something you would have noted?” I said.

  “Absolutely,” Lill said.

  “Okay, well, no time like the present to start. Or maybe we should have just a wee dram first?”

  “Why don’t we save the wee dram for when we find something,” Mac said.

  That was fine with me. I never have understood what all the fuss over elderly Scotch is about. Tea is my tipple. But I knew Mac liked it, so it was a good way to say thank-you for what he’d done for Devi today.

  I helped myself to the top page from one of the piles, and the others grabbed pages of their own. Then we all took seats at either the dining table or in the living room.

  Lill had attached the original handwriting sample to her analysis, so I looked at that first, although I didn’t have any idea what to look for. The one I’d picked looked quite elegant and very feminine. Lill claims she can’t tell gender from a writing sample, but I found that hard to believe after I looked at the signature and saw this was a sample of Candace’s writing.

  I read through Lill’s comments, looking for the characteristics we’d discussed. Candace, according to Lill, has poor organizational skills but only a minor tendency to dishonesty, which I thought odd, given her inattention to her job. Her writing also hinted at an impatient nature.

  I made notes of my findings on a Post-It note that I appended to Lill’s commentary, then I picked up another analysis. It turned out to be a sample of Bertie’s writing, which was as tottery as the man himself. Bottom line, he was patient, not overly bright, and had no dishonest tendencies. No surprises there.

  “Here’s an interesting one,” Mac said after we’d all been reading silently for some time. “This person is smart and has a logical approach to problems. There’s some possibility of an impulse-control issue, but overriding that is the ability to delay gratification.”

  “Who is it?” I said.

  “An Edna Prisant.”

  I sat back and realized I was blinking in surprise.

  Interesting that neither Lill nor I immediately said anything approaching It couldn’t possibly be Edna, because the more the idea settled in, I decided it very well could be Edna.

  “Oh,” Devi said thoughtfully, also not saying Of course it can’t be Edna.

  Mac looked from one to the other of us. “So Edna is a possibility?”

  “Where did you say the stamp was sold?” Lill asked.

  “Indianapolis,” Mac said.

  Lill smiled. “Edna has a son who lives in Indianapolis. His name is Baxter. Baxter Prisant.”

  That made us all laugh.

  “We know the woman’s ruthless,” I said after I managed to stop laughing. “Remember her naked poker story?”

  “Indeed I do.” Lill turned to Mac and Devi who were sitting on the couch, almost together, but not quite. “She seduced her sister’s fiancé as payback for her sister hurting her dog. But she waited years to do it. Now, doesn’t that sound like someone who might plan a series of thefts?”

  “What’s her motivation?” Mac said.

  “Maybe Herman Todhoffer didn’t make a pass at her?” I said. “No, that would be Myrtle, wouldn’t it. Who knows. We’ll just have to ask her.”

  “No, you don’t. Let me handle this,” Mac said in his most commanding way.

  I do wish he would use that tone on Devi and command her to go to dinner with him, or . . . well, I just wish Devi could see what a terrific guy Mac is. And not married. Divorced. I checked. I fear Eddie has soured her on the entire gender.

  “Josephine?” Mac said. “You will let me handle this.”

  I nodded. But I also crossed my fingers.

  ~ ~ ~

  So it appears our likely Brookside villains are Eddie and Edna either separately or as partners. And, yes, I did both notice and comment on the synchronicity of those two names.

  Our little handwriting party broke up shortly after that. Mac was going to follow Devi to make sure she got home safely, and Lill, despite her long nap, pleaded exhaustion, leaving when they did.

  Their departures left me keyed up, so I did what I usually do when I’m feeling that way. I spent time going over my portfolio and checking out additional places to invest my money.

  While I was doing that, the phone rang. I glanced at caller ID to discover Jeff was calling. Since he was the last person I felt like talking to, I ignored the call.

  There was no message.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Edna

  In a recent disappointing development, not only has Myrtle reconciled with Josephine and Lillian, something I never expected to see in this lifetime, the three of them are now as thick as thieves. They’re all working on a fund-raising project for Eddie’s daughter, the same daughter, I might add, who Josephine professes not to believe in. It does make a body wonder what they’re up to.

  When they asked me to write something for this peculiar book they’re putting together, I was going to say no. But I’d already heard from several people how excited they were about being included, and I didn’t want to be conspicuous by my absence, did I? Not when every other person I’ve encountered the last few days has mentioned they were thinking about what to write and asked if I’d decided yet myself.

  There was even a scuffle, one evening before a concert when two people discovered they’d picked the same quotation. Even though I personally think the whole project is weird, I don’t dare say so. I’m afraid people might attack me with their canes and walkers; the fools are that excited about the whole thing.

  But it’s not just the book I’ve been asked to contribute to. Myrtle also wants money for some cancer fund. When she came to ask me for a donation, I said I would write a check and get it to her shortly. But I have no intention of doing any such thing. Any pennies I have to spare go to my granddaughter, Amanda, who I’m determined to see attend a good college without worrying about money.

  Maybe I’ll write an inspirational message. Or maybe I won’t. But I definitely won’t be writing a check.

  ~ ~ ~

  My son, Baxter, who visits me more frequently than Josephine’s son visits her, even though he lives in Indianapolis and Josephine’s son lives in Cincinnati, recently brought me some wonderful news. With my help, he’s just added $39,000 to Amanda’s college fund.

  A year ago, his news was not so wonderful. “The market downturn has hit me and the firm hard. Unless she gets a scholarship, Amanda won’t be able to go away to college,” Baxter told me that day, which I now remember as being overcast and dreary.

  I knew from conversations with Amanda that she dreams of going to a top university as an undergraduate, and then on to graduate school. She’s as bright and beautiful as anyone could wish for, and she deserves a chance to follow that dream.

  “You know you can count on me to help,” I told Baxter the day he said money was tight.

  “I do know that, but I’m afraid you can’t afford it.”

  “What do you mean, I can’t afford it? Of course I can.”

&nbs
p; “No, Mom, you can’t. In fact, it’s lucky you moved into Brookside when you did. If we were facing the initial buy-in now, there’s no way we could afford it.”

  “I thought that money came from the estate.”

  “Some of it did, about half. I paid the rest, and since then I’ve had to supplement what you’re getting from Social Security to pay the monthly fees.”

  Although I’m excellent with figures, everyday budgets and expenses have never interested me. When Charles died, I was more than happy for Baxter to step in and take over where his father left off, but it meant I had no clue anything was amiss.

  “You should have told me.”

  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  Of course he didn’t. Baxter is a loving son. He wasn’t born until I was nearly forty and had given up all hope of having a child. I’d thought more than once that it was my penance for lying to get Charles to marry me, so when I discovered I was pregnant at last, I was nearly dizzy with excitement. This financial news left me dizzy as well, but not in a good way.

  I insisted Baxter send me all the information on my accounts and expenses. When that arrived, I went through everything and found what he’d told me was true. I am a drain on his resources. Every month I live, I further stifle Amanda’s chances.

  I immediately economized. A simple measure was to cancel my cable and my meal plan. I miss the cable, but since the food wasn’t all that good, I don’t feel too deprived, although I miss having company at meals.

  Beyond those steps, it occurred to me that one solution would be to kill myself. I’d have to be subtle about it, of course. I wouldn’t want Baxter or Amanda to know that’s what I’d done. I figured I could easily manage that, though. We average a death a week here, and if I took pills, I doubt anyone would question I hadn’t died from natural causes.

  I asked my doctor for a prescription for something to calm my nerves. When he refused, I began collecting pills from my friends’ medicine cabinets. Well, not friends exactly, but people I doubted would miss a pill or two.