by Gwen Mayo
Whispers echoed up the stairwell. “Old coot’s down there now with the tippler. They’re talkin’ to the Cuban. The battle-axe isn’t there. On the prowl somewhere, so watch out.”
She rushed to the railing and looked down, but all she saw was a mass of moving heads. One of the heads poked above the others, though. It had dark hair and a distinctive bald spot. If she rushed downstairs—
A door clicked closed behind her. She turned, in time to see Helen Minyard leaving Raymond Janzen’s hotel room.
Cornelia muttered another curse. Priorities, priorities… Helen hadn’t tried to break into her uncle’s room. That bald spot downstairs, though, belonged to a potential burglar or even uncle-killer. She would talk to Helen later, she told herself as she rushed downstairs, oxford heels thudding on each step.
She descended into the great room again and scanned for the head. Standing on tiptoe, she saw what could be her prey moving towards the double doors leading outside. Luckily, most of the men here were sitting.
Teddy was still talking to Chago, apparently known as “the Cuban”. That fit with his reference to Havana at the party. She zigzagged between the tables, fumbling for the gun in her purse.
The daylight temporarily blinded her when she emerged from the doors. She moved back into the shadow of the archway and scanned the area through the slits of her eyelids. There was the large man—at least she thought it was the same one. If she could only see the top of his head to be sure…
To be positive, though, Cornelia needed to hear the voices. The big man and his buddy were speaking to a third fellow. The third man wore a double-breasted suit and, based on his perspiration, was not accustomed to the climate yet. He wiped his forehead, and she saw the curly eyebrows. It was Leo, the man she had met last night.
The bulk of a lingering taxi helped her move in closer without being seen. The young woman entering the cab had a parasol, and Cornelia envied her the fashion accessory. It would have made excellent cover.
“The old bats are buzzing around him like he was Nosferatu,” one of the men said. It could have been one of the voices, but—
“How far do ya want me to take this?”
That was him. Definitely the large man. The other speaker was probably his companion from the attempted burglary, although she was not as positive about that.
“As far as it takes, after we get what we want.”
It was time to fetch her uncle and find out if he knew the men.
“We’ve been invited to another party tonight,” Teddy said when Cornelia rejoined the conversation. “And Chago says they can arrange a special celebration for the Professor’s birthday, if he’s not in such a hurry to get to St. Petersburg.”
“That’s very nice.”
“I told him that I don’t keep the same late hours Teddy does. Early to rise, and all that.” The professor sounded diffident, but Cornelia suspected that he was secretly pleased.
“How old will you be, Señor Professor?”
“Seventy-five.”
“Again,” Cornelia said. “He’s been celebrating his seventy-fifth birthday for a while. I think he likes the number.”
“Did you return just to make fun of your elders, Corny, or did you find something out?”
“At the rate you are aging I’ll soon be your elder, Uncle Percy, but if you have a free moment, I did find them.”
The professor frowned. “Please excuse us, Mr. Aldama.”
Once they were out of earshot of their erstwhile friend, Pettijohn asked, “Don’t call me ‘Percy’. Did you find them?”
“Yes, I did. I only hope they’re still outside.”
The trio went to the exit doors, and Cornelia cracked one open. To her horror, the doorman pulled it fully open, nearly landing her face first on the patio. She recovered in time and tried to look as though she hadn’t been creeping about.
“We’re in luck. They’re still there,” she said, pointing toward the three men clustered together under a live oak. “The one I heard is easy to spot. He’s huge.”
Teddy and the professor glanced around one of the archways for a peek. Uncle Percival withdrew first. “I presume you mean the gorilla and his two swarthy companions?”
“Yes. Do you know who they are?”
“No. What about you, Teddy?”
“I saw one of them at the party last night. Well, he wasn’t actually at the party, more lingering around the doors. He tried to crash, but Chago ran him off.”
“The older one’s name is Leo,” Cornelia said. “An Italian.”
“It was the young short one,” Teddy said. “That big one would have been hard to miss.”
A voice from behind interrupted. “May I be of assistance?”
They turned. A young man in the uniform of the hotel staff stood there. He looked curious.
“No,” Cornelia said curtly.
“Yes,” Teddy said. “Leo told me he was going to introduce my niece to his nephew, there. The fellow who makes Jack Dempsey look small. Do you know his name, perhaps?”
Their new companion peeked out. “No, although I’ve seen him around. Why don’t you just ask him?”
Teddy checked the name on his jacket. “Well, Edward, I was hoping to learn something about the young man before Kathleen meets him. My brother is a bit on the overprotective side.” She twirled her beads. “If I were to give you a little tip, do you think you could find out his name?”
Edward glanced both ways, then nodded. “You can’t be too sure, ma’am.”
They found some free chairs to sit in as they waited.
“You have a real talent at prevarication, Theodora.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
“I’m not sure he meant it as a compliment,” Cornelia said.
Perhaps Leo’s chance conversation with Cornelia hadn’t been a chance conversation after all. He’d learned where they were staying, and her uncle’s name. A dollar or two in the right hand at their hotel could have procured directions to the room.
They sought out the Homosassa Hotel’s restaurant to have a late lunch. Over tall sweating glasses of iced tea, they discussed what they had learned.
The hulk outside was one Martino Belluchi. He had arrived by car on Sunday evening, and shared his room with a Cesare Ricci. Leo, also known as Leonardo Mazzi, had an adjoining room and was paying for their stay. All three hailed from Tampa, Florida.
“Do any of the names ring a bell?” Cornelia asked her uncle. “Have you ever visited Tampa?”
“No to both of those questions,” the professor said.
Teddy stirred her tea idly. “Do you think we should tell the authorities about these men? Perhaps that deputy that came by yesterday?”
“I don’t think he’s going to be interested in hearing from you again,” Cornelia said. “You had too much fun with him yesterday.”
“I couldn’t resist. He seemed so officious, and he plainly didn’t like Peter.”
“The feeling was mutual, I suspect.”
“Speak of the devil.” Pettijohn craned his head to get a good view out the window. “The deputy’s out on the sidewalk with our man, and neither of them look happy.”
Teddy leaned over and nudged the window further open.
Voices, becoming increasingly heated, floated through.
“Confirmed it with Jennings Bowden,” the deputy said. “He was at Alsace too, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“That swindler was the same Quartermaster Janzen you wrote Alice about. The one that sold the ammo out from under your unit. Don’t pretend to be stupid.”
“It’s been a long time. I’ve been busy with a lot of people. This is the biggest event the county’s had in years, Andy.”
“You were on the train with him. Yeah, that other guy had a beef with him over the Aladdin City bust in Miami, but this is your blood we’re talking about.”
“I was in front of dozens of witnesses, plying my trade. I didn’t even ride in the same car, for Go
d’s sake. What do you think I did to him?”
“What that doc thinks was done. Poisoned him. Whaddaya say?”
Rowley took out a pack of Old Golds, lit one. “I wouldn’t have poisoned him, I’d rather have shot the bastard. Strangled, punched him, maybe. But I didn’t do any of those things, because I was trying to make a living.”
“Says you. I think the sheriff will disagree. If I were you, I’d get a better alibi than ‘everyone saw me in the other passenger car’. Everyone saw Janzen, too, and look where it got ‘im.”
Another sheriff’s department car pulled into the hotel lot. A slender man of middle age climbed out of the driver’s side. He strolled up to the two men.
“Sheriff Bowden,” Davidson said. “I was just questioning Mr. Rowley. Has some new evidence come to light?”
“No, another body.”
Chapter 7
Teddy was gone from the dining room before Cornelia could advise her to stay put. The sheriff was headed for the hotel office. The deputy and Rowley followed a couple of steps behind.
By the time Uncle Percival and Cornelia arrived at the office, a crowd had gathered. Cornelia plunged into the crowd.
She found her companion near the front, watching the sheriff read the hotel register. Mr. Davis stood behind the desk, wringing his hands.
“What’s up?” she whispered to Teddy.
“The new dead person was a guest at this hotel—just like Mr. Janzen was. Do you think we’ve had another poisoning?”
“If “we” have, we’re leaving town today. If Uncle Percival can’t book our hotel rooms earlier in St. Petersburg, we’ll find another place. We’ll sleep in the car if we have to.”
“You’re being overly dramatic.”
“I’m being overly dramatic?” Cornelia hissed, drawing stares.
The sheriff copied some information from the register and slid his notebook back into his pocket. He faced the crowd.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, folks, but one of the guests here has been the victim of a crime.”
“What was the crime?” William Carson asked. His face was pale.
“A Benedicto Cardona was found dead in a boxcar of the Mullet Train. Somebody killed him and stuffed his body into a fish bin. A deputy called me from Ocala; he was looking for bootleg whiskey and got a nasty surprise. The only place that bin could have been loaded on the train was at the station here. We don’t know which one of the fish houses filled this particular bin, but we will soon enough.”
A buzz ensued, and he waved it down. “I have no reason to believe that the crime actually happened at this hotel, but I could surely use your assistance in tracking the movements of Mr. Cardona and any associates.”
People looked at one another. “Which one was he?” a young man, one of the group in knee britches, asked.
Rowley spoke up. “He was the fellow who asked about the casino during the bus tour. An older fellow, stocky. Dark hair. Wore a Panama hat. Those two came with him.”
He pointed at Chago Aldama and the man next to him. Cornelia remembered that he was named ‘Sal’ something.
Chago scowled. “Hey, we had nothing to do with it.”
“But you did arrive with him, didn’t you?” Sheriff Bowden said. “According to the hotel records, he was paying for your room.”
“Yeah, but we were just business associates. Haven’t seen him since we were talking about the land deal.”
“Not true,” Teddy murmured to Cornelia. “I remember a Benny at the private party we went to. I think he might have been one of the hosts.”
“That’s probably not something our man Chago wants them to know about,” she whispered back.
“I think you’re right.”
Bowden broke in. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you remember seeing Mr. Cardona, especially during the last day or two, we need your information. Seeing him won’t make you a suspect, but keeping secrets could. Andy here is the person you need to talk to. And please—if you rode down on the Mullet Express, or are staying at this hotel, please stay in town until you’re cleared. I know most of you just came to look at the property, so we’ll try to make it fast. Mr. Aldama, Mr. Borerro, I’m interviewing you now. Come along. Don’t go anywhere, Rowley.”
The professor turned to his niece. "It seems my visit to Saint Petersburg will be delayed."
“This has been an interesting day,” Teddy said cheerily during their ride back to the Riverside Lodge. She wanted to change for the party in Chago’s suite. Cornelia thought that if the Cuban and his friend were arrested, it would probably put a major damper on things. “Do you think Peter killed both of them?”
“Horsefeathers,” Pettijohn replied. “Anyone on the train could have poisoned Janzen, most of them more easily than Rowley could’ve. He was in the other car. And since he’s been here, he’s been wheeling and dealing. Been in plain sight the whole time in multiple places.”
Their chauffeur, the man with the stubble, tilted his head back slightly, but said nothing.
“But they’ll use that against him,” Teddy said. “It would be easier for him to get to his victims as a roving agent than, say, someone who stayed in one place all the time.”
“I can think of another person who had an interest in Janzen, although I don’t know what it is yet,” Cornelia said.
“That big goon that tried to break into the professor’s room?”
The driver took the next bend in the road more slowly than he had the previous evening.
“No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he were involved with Mr. Cardona’s death. Someone who would attempt burglary isn’t that far away from murder.”
“Well, then, who else was interested in Janzen? Besides Mr. Hofstetter.”
“Mrs.—” Cornelia realized that they had an audience. “Step on it and pay attention to the road, Mister, or I’ll pin those big ears back on your head.”
They traveled the rest of the way in silence. The river and their hotel soon loomed in the windshield.
“Cornelia, dear, I must impose on you to contact the Vinoy,” the professor said. “I need this fellow to take me to a few other locations.”
Cornelia was wary. “Such as?”
“The engineer’s.”
“Going to talk shop?”
“Among other things.”
The movie that evening was “The Gold Rush”, starring Charlie Chaplin. It was funny, yet sad at times. The Thanksgiving scene with the cooked boot reminded Cornelia of several lean years from her childhood. Still, the way Chaplin twirled the laces like spaghetti gave her a smile. How could he make tragedy so… funny? Beside her, Teddy giggled until she was in danger of another coughing fit.
Afterwards, they went directly to the private party. The mood was somber; Cardona was, in fact, the ‘Benny’ of the previous celebration. Shortly after their arrival in the suite’s foyer, Chago’s roommate exited one of the bedrooms. Other men were visible through the doorway, locked in conversation. The air around them was thick with smoke.
“Good evening, ladies.” He gestured them away from the crowded bedroom into an equally crowded salon. “We’ll be with you shortly. Some of Benny’s friends just arrived. Hey, Charlie! Get a Mary Pickford for the lady here and a sidecar for her pal.”
Cornelia bristled at being referred to as a ‘pal’, but the man was already gone. Teddy, meanwhile, strolled to the bar and awaited her drink.
After a moment, Cornelia joined her. “I don’t like the mood here. Or those new men.”
“No, there’s definitely a storm brewing, but we weren’t going to learn anything staying in our room.”
“I’m worried about getting drenched if we stay here.”
“Hey, how’s tricks?”
Kathleen, wearing a dress with brilliant blue fringe, plunked down in the seat next to them. She carried a cocktail in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
Teddy was pleased. “Kathleen, dear! Did you enjoy the party last night?”
; “I sure did! I was surprised to see you and your friend there. You dance really well.”
Teddy fingered her beads. “Thank you. I’ve always loved dancing.”
Kathleen took a puff. “I was worried when you pooped out. Was that the lung thing?”
“Yes, it was.” She sighed. “The price I paid for serving in the War.”
“You? You served in the Great War? What did you do?”
“Cornelia and I were nurses. We were stationed at one of the Army hospitals in France.”
“Your families let you do that?”
Now, Teddy had to laugh. “We were hardly young ladies at the time. My grand running-away came much earlier.”
“Really? You ran away?”
“I’m afraid my family had plans for me that didn’t involve a career. I was of the generation when young ladies of good family were sent to finishing school as preparation for marriage.”
Kathleen made a face and puffed again. “They still do that.”
“Are you in finishing school? Where?”
“It doesn’t matter. I was expelled.”
Teddy’s eyebrows lifted in delight. “Really?” She saw a bench and sat down. “Come here and tell me all about it, dear.”
Cornelia left them to their gossip. The only things she knew about finishing school were ones she had learned from Teddy’s stories. Growing up in Kentucky was a very different experience. She hadn’t realized how different until Uncle Percival arranged for her to enter the nursing program at Johns Hopkins. Most of the other students had been city girls from the Northeast. None of them had ever baited a hook or hoed a field.
She drifted through the crowd listening to tidbits about the deceased and speculation of what had gotten him stuffed into that bin and iced down like a gutted fish. Unfortunately, no one made reference to Tiny Belluchi or one Percival Pettijohn.
When she returned to the bar, Kathleen was gone.
“Where did your friend go?” Cornelia asked. “Did she find a dancing partner?”
“No, she went back to the hotel. Her Aunt Helen set a curfew for her. Something about her drifting in at an unseemly hour last night.”