Catch a Falling Knife

by Alan Cook

  “They wouldn’t let us look at her,” June said. “It was probably just as well. I don’t think I could have stood it, the way they said she looked. They said Donna had identified her.”

  “Did you call Ted?”

  “That wasn’t until later,” Eric said. “The police talked to us for a long time first. And some newspaper people. We were even on TV. When something bad happens all the sharks gather, attracted by the blood.

  “Eric, don’t talk about blood.” June looked pale.

  The talk wasn’t doing me any good, either. I thanked them for their time and got up to leave.

  Chapter 17

  “Lillian, come look at this.”

  “What are you doing up so early?” I asked Mark as I hung up my coat. I had just finished taking King for her morning walk around Silver Acres. It wasn’t yet 7 a.m. Thankfully, the rain had stopped.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  Mark had worked as a bartender the night before and must have gotten home very late. I walked back to my sunroom, where he maneuvered the mouse on his computer. I asked, “How did your hearing go yesterday?”

  “Impossible to tell. I told my story to a sea of expressionless faces. They didn’t give me any feedback. I felt as if I were talking to a wall. I gave them a taped copy of the message Elise left for you. They said they had already heard it. The police evidently played it for them. They told me they’d let me know their decision.”

  “Great. What have you found on the Internet?”

  I decided to check today’s Bethany Bugle to see if it had anything new. And look what I found.”

  When we had investigated getting a subscription to the Bethany Bugle Mark had found out that they published on the Internet as well as in print. That meant we could have immediate access to each edition—they published twice a week—instead of having to wait for mail delivery since we were outside the geographical area for home delivery.

  Mark still wore his nightclothes, which consisted of an old pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He had extended my telephone line from the study, which also contained the spare bed where he slept, to the sunroom, and hooked it up to the modem inside his computer. That allowed the computer to dial up the Internet, as he had explained to me.

  I sat on the sofa beside him and said, “Is there something new on the investigation?”

  “Not exactly on the investigation, but it certainly concerns one of the players. Read this headline.”

  The headline for the article read, “Crescent Heights Coed Moonlights as Stripper.” The article started out, “Not many science majors have a part-time job like the one that Donna Somerset had until last week. In addition to maintaining a 3.5 grade-point average, Donna worked nights at Club Cavalier as an exotic dancer, which means she danced topless, with not much on the bottom, using the alias of the Shooting Star.”

  There was a picture of her, but not in her dancing outfit. I skimmed the rest of the article. It told how she had disguised herself with a wig and a mask because, as she said, she didn’t think her parents and some of her friends would approve of what she was doing. When asked why she went public about her job, she said that the police had received a tip that Elise Hoffman had been the Shooting Star. Donna felt she had to set the record straight because this could have an effect on the murder investigation and also because she wanted to protect Elise’s reputation. Elise had been a good girl.

  At one point in the article Donna was quoted as saying, “The only time I feel in control of my life is when I’m dancing.” What did she mean by that?

  “Well, her secret is certainly out,” I said, as I finished skimming the article.

  “It sounds as if you already knew about this,” Mark said, eyeing me, suspiciously.

  “Donna asked me not to tell you about it. She said it would be just too embarrassing if you knew. She has a crush on you, you know.”

  “In today’s world, crushes can only get the crushee into trouble,” Mark said in an irritated voice. “Well, I realize that you’re way ahead of me on this, but how does the fact that Elise wasn’t the Shooting Star affect the investigation?”

  “Unfortunately, probably adversely for you because it eliminates some of the suspects. For example, anybody connected with Club Cavalier. And Elise’s father.”

  “Are you saying that Elise’s father would only be a suspect if Elise had been the Shooting Star and he had known about it?”

  “That’s about right. As far as the harassment issue, he apparently didn’t know about that until after she was killed. And he would have been more likely to kill you than her, based on that alone.”

  “That’s comforting. Do I need a bodyguard?”

  “Just don’t go near his dog. He’s big enough to eat you in a couple of bites.” I gave him a brief rundown on my visit to the Hoffmans’ place the day before.

  “What do you think of Elise’s mother as a suspect?”

  “June? Unlikely. She had no discernible motive. Her thinking is less rigid than her husband’s. In fact, she doesn’t seem to approve of his website.”

  “So who does that leave?”

  “You.” I immediately saw how bad my joke was when Mark’s face fell, so I tried to soften it. “Actually, we need to take a closer look at Ted and Donna. Ted is a strange duck and he knew about the harassment, apparently because Elise filed the complaint in order to excuse herself in Ted’s eyes for not being a virgin. It’s possible that this backfired on her.”

  “Are you saying that Ted may have become so incensed about the fact that Elise wasn’t a virgin that he killed her?”

  “Stranger things have happened. He seems to be really hung up on virginity. Although he didn’t admit it to me, he may be a virgin, himself.”

  “Does he have an alibi for the night of the murder?”

  “Hopefully, Detective Johnson has been better at getting that information out of him than I have. He doesn’t have a car, but he only lives a mile from Elise’s place. And her father didn’t call him until some time after the murder. At which time, of course, he was home.”

  “So Detective Johnson talked to him?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know whether he searched his place.”

  “Like for a weapon?”

  “Or bloodstains on clothes. Or a diary detailing the dark deed.”

  “Are you saying that we have to do that?”

  I hesitated. “I admit that the thought has crossed my mind. Otherwise, I doubt that anything will be pinned on Ted unless a witness comes forward. But I promised Albert that I would be careful about breaking the law this time around, so let’s explore some other possibilities first. Let’s talk about Donna.”

  “Newly exposed as the Shooting Star. But what reason would she have to kill Elise?”

  “We may have to put some pieces together,” I said, carefully. “Something Eric Hoffman said gave me a glimmer of an idea. I think I need to go back and talk to him again. But when June isn’t there.”

  Mark grinned. “Won’t you get eaten up by his dog?”

  “Monster and I are friends now.”

  My doorbell rang. Who could it be at this hour of the morning? Tess was the only person I could think of who would have the nerve. And she would probably phone me first. I walked to the front door while Mark made the article we were reading disappear from the computer monitor just in case it was somebody we didn’t want to know what we were doing.

  I opened the door and saw Detective Johnson standing beyond the outside door, which still had the winter storm window installed. He was approximately the last person I wanted to talk to, but I opened the outside door and said, “Good morning, Detective,” in a voice loud enough for Mark to hear. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

  “I didn’t come here to eat, Mrs. Morgan,” he said, stiffly. “May I come in?”

  “Of course. Mi casa es su casa.” I opened the door wide enough for him to enter. I led him into the living room and I called, “Mark, Detective Johnson is here,” in case
he hadn’t heard before. The detective was neatly dressed for so early in the morning, in a suit and tie. Perhaps he was one of those people who didn’t need much sleep.

  “It’s you I want to talk to,” Detective Johnson said to me.

  I didn’t particularly want to talk to him on an empty stomach, but I allowed him to sit down on my nice new couch. I sat beside him. He didn’t acknowledge Mark, clearly visible in the next room, so Mark wisely decided to stay there. If I spoke up he would be able to hear what I said.

  I offered coffee to Detective Johnson, which actually wasn’t made yet, but he declined, so I couldn’t use that as an excuse to duck his questions for a bit. I remembered that he drank coke, but I decided it was too early for him to indulge in that vice.

  “I’ll get right to the point,” Detective Johnson said, his eye twitching. “I’ve had a complaint about you.”

  I raised my eyebrows and tried to look innocent as he continued, “Ted Ulrich says that you went to his place and browbeat him.”

  “Browbeat Ted?” I said, using my outside voice so that Mark could hear. “That’s strong language. I was just asking him some questions.”

  “It’s my job to ask the questions, not yours. It’s your job to stay out of this and let me do my job.”

  “I hope you are doing your job.”

  “I’m serious, Mrs. Morgan. You know, I can arrest you for obstruction of justice.”

  I would have to call Burt and find out what the legal definition was for obstruction of justice. I said, “If I promise not to browbeat Ted, will you answer a question for me?”

  “It depends.”

  “Okay, the question is this. Have you considered Ted as a possible suspect?”

  Detective Johnson looked at nothing for a while and then said, “All friends of Elise are possible suspects. Although we haven’t eliminated the possibility that a stranger murdered her, either. We have investigated Ted along with everyone else. As I’m sure you already know, he’s a pretty clean-cut guy.”

  I wasn’t sure clean-cut was the right word for Ted. “It appears that he may have been more clean-cut than Elise. Perhaps that led to some differences of opinion between them. For example, because of his views on marriage, if he was a virgin and Elise wasn’t. Have you searched his room?”

  “If we did that we should search your apartment, too, since Dr. Pappas is staying here.”

  “You have my permission to search my apartment any time you wish.”

  “They’ve already searched my office at the college and my car,” Mark said, strolling into the room. “And what did you find, Detective Johnson?”

  “Nothing,” Detective Johnson admitted. “All right, since you two obviously don’t think I’m doing my job, I’ll take you up on that, Mrs. Morgan. I’ll search your apartment. I have another officer in the car and he’ll help me.” He produced a cellular phone, called the other officer and told him to come in.

  “I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” Detective Johnson said to us. “We did search Ted’s room and we didn’t have to browbeat him or get a warrant to do it. He volunteered.”

  “And you found nothing,” I said. I could tell by his smug smile.

  “Correct. And by the way, Elise Hoffman was not the Shooting Star. Donna Somerset was.”

  “You’re talking about the article in the Bethany Bugle this morning.”

  “That’s old news. Donna told me, herself, last week. It eliminates any suspects that had anything to do with Club Cavalier.”

  His look said that he was quite capable of digging out information without assistance. I suppressed a desire to say that Donna had told me the same thing. He would just accuse me of obstructing justice again.

  When he couldn’t get a rise out of me, he said, “And here’s something else you don’t know. Elise tested positive for marijuana.”

  Now that was news. “And you didn’t find any marijuana at Ted’s place?” I asked.

  “It was clean.”

  “Did you find any marijuana at Elise’s apartment?”

  “No. It appears that she had been smoking somewhere else earlier that evening.”

  But probably not with Ted. “Maybe she had another boyfriend,” I said, “and she was out with him.”

  “There’s nobody either her parents or her roommate knows about.” Detective Johnson turned his gaze on Mark. “But we’re still working on it.”

  “I heard she had a boyfriend last year. Could that still be going on?”

  “I talked to him. That was over last June, almost a year ago. And besides, he has an ironclad alibi for the night of the murder.”

  Who did that leave? Was Detective Johnson implying that she had gone out with Mark? I found myself wondering whether or not Mark had ever smoked marijuana. But that had to be irrelevant.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the other officer knocking at the door.

  Chapter 18

  Mark didn’t have to show up at his job as bartender until late in the afternoon and so he was at loose ends. Since he didn’t like the idea of me driving myself to Bethany, he insisted on taking me to Eric Hoffman’s home. It wasn’t because he had anything to do at Crescent Heights College; he had made his appeal for reinstatement and his fate was in the hands of the committee that decided such things. They would issue a ruling when they were good and ready.

  When I asked him what he thought his chances were, he said, “What are the chances of a lion and a zebra signing a non-aggression pact?”

  “That bad, eh?”

  “Let’s just say that I should have decided on a career as a burglar when I had the opportunity.”

  I didn’t say much more on that subject. I figured that the best way I could help lift Mark out of his depression was to solve the murder of Elise. We agreed that he shouldn’t talk to Eric Hoffman so he dropped me off at the Hoffman driveway and drove away. I would call his beeper with my cell phone when I was ready to be picked up. He used the beeper in conjunction with his bartending job.

  I had called Eric from my apartment to make sure that he was going to be there and June wasn’t. She had returned to work. I told him that after talking to Detective Johnson I had some more ideas I wanted to discuss with him. He seemed to be willing to talk to me. I didn’t tell him that the detective had threatened me and I didn’t plan to tell him about Elise’s marijuana use. Let Detective Johnson do that. After all, that’s what he got paid for.

  I carried a dog treat for Monster; King loved them so I hoped Monster would too. Monster growled a little when he first saw me, but then he must have recognized my scent because he stopped and came amiably forward. The treat cinched it. We were buddies for life. I scratched him between the ears and told him I had to talk to his master.

  Eric acted surprised when he answered the doorbell and found that I had gotten past Monster without him hearing. He appeared to be agitated as he invited me to come inside and sit down. He served us coffee that was already made. He declined my offer to help, saying that he could carry the tray with one hand and wield his cane with the other.

  He could, although the tray shook slightly and the contents chattered as he placed it on the coffee table. But he was still strong. I took a sip of coffee and was preparing what to say when I noticed a copy of the Bethany Bugle sitting on the table beside the coffee tray. That was my opening

  “Have you read today’s paper?” I asked, indicating the Bugle.

  Eric looked startled. “You don’t get that paper, do you?”

  “I was told there was an article in it about Donna.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “I do want to talk about Donna, yes. How do you feel about the article?”

  “How do I feel about Elise’s roommate working as a stripper at Club Cavalier? How do I feel about her best friend corrupting my baby? I’ve dedicated my life to stopping the sin and the shame of this sort of thing. How do you think I feel?”

  The words were there, but the passion wasn’t. It s
ounded as if Eric were reading the scripture lesson in church. Maybe it was because Donna was the sinner, rather than Elise. Eric opened the paper to the article and handed it to me. I pretended to read it, going “tsk-tsk” at appropriate moments.

  “I guess this changes things,” I said, handing the paper back to him.

  “It throws a monkey wrench into my feelings about Donna. When she came here she seemed like such a nice girl, well brought up…”

  Eric seemed to run out of things to say. When he paused, I said, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You said that Donna came here several times when you were alone.”

  “Twice. Maybe three times. No more.”

  “What did you two talk about?”

  “I believe I told you. She wanted to team up with Elise. She would be the songwriter, Elise would be the singer.”

  “Who would write the music? I believe Donna writes words but not music.”

  “Elise wrote some music. And I think she knew somebody who wrote music.”

  “Of course, singers usually sing songs written by many songwriters. For instance, Frank Sinatra was partial to Cole Porter, but he sang songs written by many other songwriters, as well. I guess my real question is, why did Donna discuss this with you? Why didn’t she talk to Elise about it?”

  “Oh, she did. All the time. But she felt that Elise was distancing herself, putting on airs, as she called it. I got the impression Donna thought Elise thought she was better than Donna. Of course she was…”

  I had better get to the point. “So what did Donna want you to do? I mean, she didn’t just come here to cry in her coffee, did she?”

  “You’d make a good detective,” Eric said, with a smile. “Donna asked me to convince Elise that they belonged together. She wanted me to go to bat for her.”

  “Which you did?” I waited for Eric to tell me something new.

  “I talked to Elise. I put in a word for Donna. Donna was nice to me. Don’t take this the wrong way, but she would sit on my lap, being careful not to hurt my leg, of course. She had beautiful…manners. She recognized my needs. June just treats me like an invalid. Say, you won’t tell June I told you this, will you?”