Catch a Falling Knife

by Alan Cook

  “It’s a mirror on the other side,” Lefty said. “We can see them, but they can’t see us. It’s for security, but I also use it as a VIP lounge, for folks who don’t want to mix with the riffraff.”

  There were several tables in our room, with chairs around them. It took our eyes a minute to adjust to the dim lighting of the scene before us. The spotlit stage, to our left, was the brightest area. We had a good view of a dancer who was doing her best to captivate the multitudes. The pounding beat of the music vibrated the glass of the window. As I became able to pick out the faces of individuals in the mostly-male audience, I noticed that while many of the men were watching the dancer with more-or-less rapt attention, some seemed to be more interested in their drinks and others were conversing and ignored her altogether. What must that do to her self-esteem?

  “There they are,” Sandra said, pointing toward the back of the room.

  Her young eyes had found Mark and Donna before mine could focus that far away. They were sitting at a small table, side by side, but definitely not touching each other. They had glasses in front of them, probably beer, and Donna seemed to be talking to Mark, in competition with the music.

  “I wish we could hear what they’re saying,” I said.

  “This has something to do with the Shooting Star, doesn’t it?” Lefty said, as he recognized Mark.

  I nodded.

  “I’ll tell you what we can do. I’ll invite them up here to the skybox. I’ve got this room miked. We can listen to what they’re saying in my office. I’ll tell them it’s to make the lady more comfortable, since there aren’t many of them in the audience. And drinks are on the house.”

  “That will convince Mark,” I said. “He doesn’t have much money.”

  “That other window overlooks the lap-dancing area,” Lefty said, pointing to an adjacent wall. Would you like to take a look at what’s happening there before we go downstairs?”

  “Thanks, we’ll pass,” I said, quickly, before Sandra figured out what he was talking about.

  Chapter 30

  The first snatches of conversation we heard were between Mark and Donna and the waitress who had guided them up to the skybox, as Lefty liked to call it. She offered them another round of drinks, free. Mark, who sounded somewhat puzzled as to why they were getting special attention, said they would have one more round.

  When the waitress left we listened, intently, for what we didn’t know. Lefty, Sandra and I were standing in his cramped office, too nervous to sit, while he adjusted knobs on an amplifier that projected their voices through several speakers. At first we heard nothing except occasional notes of the music from the main room. Then Donna spoke.

  “I’m glad they brought us up here,” Donna said. “It’s easier to talk and easier to see the disgusting things that girl is doing. That’s what Elise did. You can see that any girl who would do things like that wasn’t worthy of your attention. I would never do anything like that.”

  Mark didn’t reply at first. Donna prattled on in the same vein.

  Finally, Mark said, “If what these girls do is so disgusting, why did you pretend to be the Shooting Star?”

  There was a pause, during which we strained to hear.

  Then we heard Donna say, “Elise was my best friend. I…was just trying to protect her memory. You know how her father felt. What if he had found out that she was the Shooting Star? I wanted…”

  “Now wait a minute, Donna.” Mark’s voice drowned hers out. “You told Lillian—Dr. Morgan—and me that you were the one who told Elise’s father that she was the Shooting Star. So how can you say you were trying to protect her?”

  “She changes stories as often as she changes clothes,” I said.

  “I got mad at him because he insinuated that I killed Elise. I…wanted to hurt him.”

  “But you didn’t kill Elise.”

  “I loved her like…a sister.”

  “But you also envied her because she was better looking than you and because she was a good singer who didn’t need your song lyrics to be successful and because…well, because you thought that I was attracted to her and not you.”

  “You can’t tell me you weren’t hot for her.”

  “Let me make one thing very clear. There is only one woman in my life and that’s Sandra. I liked you and Elise, but only as my students, nothing more.”

  I looked at Sandra. She listened intently.

  Mark spoke again. “I know more than you think I do. I know that Elise’s dad came into Club Cavalier the night she was killed. I know that he saw Elise dance. I know that he recognized her. He was with her boyfriend, Ted. He took Ted home and then he went somewhere. I bet he went to your apartment. I bet Elise was already there. I bet you were already there.” A pause, then, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Mark was doing a high-wire act without a net. During the ensuing silence we held our collective breath. What was going on up there? Did we need to break in on them?

  Finally, Donna said, “I might as well tell you the truth. I picked Elise up from Club Cavalier that night and drove her back to our apartment. On the way she smoked a joint in my car to help her wind down. It always took her a long time to wind down and get to sleep after she danced.”

  “The police didn’t find any pot in your apartment.”

  “I don’t indulge. Somebody gave her the joint—at the Club, I think. Anyway, when we got to the apartment she took off her costume and was kind of wandering around without any clothes on, feeling no pain. She told me about this guy who had put a fifty-dollar bill on the stage. Can you imagine? Fifty dollars to see her boobs? I mean, you’ve seen her boobs. Tell me, are they worth fifty dollars?”

  “Donna, I haven’t seen her boobs.”

  Mark had just dodged a bullet.

  After a beat Donna continued. “Anyway, I kind of dragged her into the bathroom and helped her take her off makeup. Then I got her into bed. She had a nightgown, but I didn’t try to put it on her. She kept talking about this guy and the fifty dollars.”

  During a pause that followed I said, “I had always meant to ask Donna whether Elise usually slept in the nude, but, somehow, I never got around to it.” I hoped to distract Sandra from associating Mark with Elise’s breasts.

  Donna said, “Soon after I got Elise into bed I heard a loud pounding on the door. It made me jump. I went to the door and asked who was there.”

  “Were you still dressed?” Mark asked.

  “Yes, because I had been dealing with Elise. Mr. Hoffman yelled to let him in. I recognized his voice. I told him just a minute and ran back to the bedroom and hid Elise’s dance stuff—her g-string, bra and wig—at the bottom of my underwear drawer and put a sheet over her. Then I let Mr. Hoffman in.

  “He started yelling for Elise and went into the bedroom. He was raving and waving his cane around. There was nothing I could do to stop him. He screamed at her about being the Shooting Star.”

  “What did Elise do?”

  “What could she do? She was helpless. She pulled the sheet up around her neck and stared up at him, not saying anything. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. Or his eyes. He swung his cane above her. I thought he was going to hit her with that or start punching her. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I went into the kitchen and got the biggest knife we had, with the idea that if he starting hitting her I would protect her.”

  “You didn’t think that he might take the knife away from you?”

  “No, but that’s what he did. He saw me behind him and swung around and knocked it out of my hand with the cane so fast that I didn’t know what was happening. The knife fell between us. He warded me off with the cane and picked it up. Then he ripped the sheet off her. He stabbed her—over and over again. It was awful.”

  We heard what sounded like sobs coming from the speakers. Sandra, Lefty and I looked at each other. Lefty made a move as if to go for the door, but I raised my hand to stop him. I said, “Let’s hear the rest.”

  We heard Mark say,
“Why didn’t he kill you?”

  Donna’s choked voice said, “I thought he was going to. I was frozen. I couldn’t run or even move. After he stopped stabbing Elise he seemed to calm down a little. He looked at her for a while, still holding that bloody knife. Then he looked at me. He finally told me that he wouldn’t kill me if I would keep quiet and not tell the police anything. But if I didn’t keep quiet he would get me. He scared me out of my wits.”

  “Was it his idea, then, that you become the Shooting Star so he wouldn’t appear to have a motive?”

  “Well…yes, but he said to do it only if necessary—if somebody associated Elise with the Shooting Star. He said it might not happen.”

  “So Ted didn’t realize that Elise was the Shooting Star.”

  “He said that Ted never caught on. He didn’t think Ted would be a problem. But then Dr. Morgan talked to me and said she thought Elise was the Shooting Star. That’s when I had to start pretending.”

  “What happened to the knife?”

  “I got a towel and we wrapped it up, after wiping off any fingerprints. Eric…Mr. Hoffman told me what to do. He took it with him so it wouldn’t be around when the police got there.”

  “How did the window get broken?”

  “He…he broke it with his cane to make it appear like a robbery. He told me to wait 15 minutes and then call 911. And then to call his house. That would give him a chance to get home so he could answer the phone. Then he would tell Mrs. Hoffman. He didn’t want to have to wait until the police showed up at his door. But I panicked and called 911 after about five minutes. Then I called his house, but of course he wasn’t there yet so I had to tell Mrs. Hoffman what had happened.”

  “How did the knife get in my car?”

  “Mr. Hoffman gave it back to me after he found out that I knew you. He told me to put it in your trunk since you were under suspicion, anyway. He said it would help me avoid becoming a suspect, myself. I…I’m sorry I did it.”

  “You know we have to go to the police.”

  “At this time of night?”

  “The police operate 24 hours a day. Somebody will listen to your story.”

  “If Mr. Hoffman finds out he’ll kill me.”

  “The police will protect you from Mr. Hoffman. Come on, let’s go.”

  There were sounds of chairs being slid back and then the distant sound of a door closing.

  “I got the whole thing on tape,” Lefty said, proudly, pointing to his electronic equipment. “We’ll nail that bastard now.”

  Something was wrong. The solution was too pat, too easy. I said, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I think we should stop them.”

  “I say, if they’re going to the police, let them go,” Lefty said. He extracted a tape from the recorder and held it up. “We can follow them and present the police with this. Then they can compare it with what she tells them.”

  “Gogi’s right,” Sandra said, urgently. “Donna’s dangerous. This isn’t the way she wrote the ending.”

  Chapter 31

  Lefty looked quickly from one of us to the other and said, “All right, I hear you.” He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a gun. “Do you know where they parked?”

  “In the back,” I said. “It’s closest to go out the door at the end of this hall.”

  “Good. We should beat them to their car.”

  Lefty led the way, with Sandra right on his heels. I followed as fast as I could. By the time I got to the outside door, Lefty and Sandra were already out of sight. As I went through the doorway the cool night air hit my face, refreshing after the closeness of the atmosphere inside. It was dark, but the parking lot was lit by several spotlights on the side of the building.

  I looked toward the back of the lot where Donna’s car and my car were parked. Sandra and Lefty were running toward the two cars. I didn’t see Mark and Donna. It would take them longer to come around from the front door. I felt some relief. Sandra and Lefty would intercept them and Lefty would neutralize Donna with his gun, if necessary.

  I didn’t want Donna to see me when she and Mark came around from the front so I walked quickly to the back of the building and wedged myself into a fenced-in area, containing trashcans. It smelled like a garbage dump, but I should be safe here, in the dark. And from here I could see the cars. As I watched, Lefty and Sandra ducked down between the cars, out of sight.

  Minutes passed. Nobody came to the back of the lot. Since only a handful of other cars were parked back here, apparently the crowd wasn’t large enough yet to need the additional parking. But where were Mark and Donna. They should have been here by now. Had they stopped downstairs for another beer?

  I had a strong desire to move to where the air was cleaner. Sandra’s head popped up from the shadows between the cars and she looked around. She and Lefty came out of their hiding place and trotted toward me. I came out of mine so they could see me.

  “We’re going to find out where they are,” Lefty said as he ran by, laboring because of his size.

  “Stay here,” Sandra said as she passed me, running easily.

  They disappeared down the side of the building.

  I obeyed Sandra for a few seconds, thankful that the odor wasn’t so strong where I stood now. I didn’t want to return to the trashcans. Instead, I walked to my car. I thought it would be a good idea to move my car away from Donna’s, in case there was trouble. As I approached my car a vehicle came around the other side of the building. It was too late to hide; it headed toward my corner of the lot and nailed me with its headlights. I felt like a frightened deer.

  I scoffed at my alarm; this must be a patron of Club Cavalier. I got out my keys and started to unlock my car door, planning to get in, as if I were leaving. Act natural. Instead of parking in a lined space, the pickup truck—I had now identified it as such—pulled up behind my car and Donna’s car. Strange. I took another look; it was Eric Hoffman’s truck.

  Eric stuck his head out of the open driver’s-side window and yelled something at me, but I couldn’t hear what he said because of the noise of his engine. Then he shut off the engine and said, “Lillian, is that you? The whole damn world is here tonight.”

  I hadn’t heard him swear before. He opened his door while Mark and Donna piled out of the other side of the truck. Eric must have spotted them as they came out of the Club. That couldn’t be good. I stood with one hand on my door handle, waiting to see what was going to happen next.

  Mark saw me and came over, saying, “Lillian, what are you doing here?”

  Of all the things I could have said, I chose, “Sandra’s here. She wants to talk to you.”

  “I can’t right now. I…I’ll explain later. Right now I have to go with Donna.”

  I wanted to order Mark to get into my car where he would be safe, but Donna and Eric were listening. Mark started around the back of my car toward Donna’s car. Donna had opened her driver’s-side door and stuck her head into the car. Now she stood up and turned toward Mark.

  I saw the gun in her hand before Mark did. I yelled, “Mark, look out!”

  Donna fired several shots in quick succession as Mark started to duck. Mark fell behind my car. Donna moved forward, holding the gun awkwardly in both hands, planning to shoot him again. My car was between Donna and me. I couldn’t get to her; I could only watch in horror.

  Eric had one foot on the ground and was positioning his cane to help him swing his other leg out of the truck. From this awkward position he launched himself at Donna as she approached to finish off Mark. Eric’s body hit Donna, but his lunge didn’t have much force behind it so he grabbed her as he fell, pulling them both down on the asphalt. He grunted loudly as his body hit the ground.

  I finally became mobile and somehow made it around to the back of my car. All three bodies were in the space between the truck and the two cars. Blood was spreading on Mark’s shirt, but Donna was first priority. Being careful not to step on Mark, I picked up Eric’s cane, which he had dropped. Donna ha
d rolled out of Eric’s grasp, into the back wheel of her car, and was struggling to get up. She hit her head on the frame of her car and collapsed. I saw the gun in her hand and remembered what she had said about Eric knocking the knife out of her hand with his cane.

  As Donna tried a second time to get up I hit her sharply on the wrist with the cane. The gun came loose and clattered to the blacktop. Using the cane like a hockey stick, I scooted the gun underneath Eric’s truck. Donna made it to her knees, a dazed expression on her face. I stood facing her, cane in hand, holding it like a dueling sword.

  She knelt on the ground, not looking at me. She reached into a pocket of her jeans. At first I thought she might have another gun, but then I realized her pocket wasn’t large enough to hold a gun. She pulled out a small plastic container and removed the cap. Before I understood what she was doing she dumped a pill into her hand and popped it into her mouth.

  Somehow I knew that I couldn’t let her swallow the pill. I hit her hard in the mouth with the cane. She screamed and blood spurted. I dropped the cane, grabbed her head and tried to pry her mouth open, but she bit me and twisted away.

  I heard running footsteps approaching. Sandra and Lefty raced up. I said, “She’s got a pill in her mouth. Don’t let her swallow it.”

  Lefty tackled Donna while Sandra bent over Mark, saying his name. Somebody should call 911. I had dropped my purse beside my car. I found it and fumbled for my cell phone.

  ***

  Mark was conscious, lying on his back. He had been hit near his shoulder, apparently only once. Sandra had ripped part of his shirt off with the strength of desperation and used it to stanch the blood. I stood by her, ready to help, but I didn’t want to get in her way.

  “I owe you another one, Lillian,” Mark said, slowly. “If you hadn’t yelled…”

  “Don’t talk, Sweetheart,” Sandra said. “Help will be here soon.”

  After a brief fight, Lefty had extracted the pill from Donna’s bloody mouth. He held her down and kept her subdued. Both of them sat on the asphalt as I explained what she had done.