by Leslie Leigh
She removed the cork and sniffed the bottle. She held the bottle out and read the entire label, and then looked at the other three people. “So, you tested the cork? What were you looking for?” she asked.
“Poisons,” said Jason.
“And you found none?” asked Melissa.
He shook his head.
“Did you test the wine?” she asked again.
“No, as I said, since it hadn’t been poured and the cork tested clean, I didn’t test the wine,” said Jason.
“But,” Melissa said, as she pulled the cap off, “what do you smell?”
“Umm…wine…almond! I smell almond,” said Jason.
“Mmhmm. And what kind of wine is this?”
He looked at the label. “Elderberry?”
“Ever tasted elderberry wine, Jason?”
“No, ma’am.Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
“I have, many times. It neither smells nor tastes like almond.”
“Oh.”
“Can we test it?”
“Sure,” Jason looked a bit abashed. He quickly ran a chemical analysis of the contents and came back with the results. “Definitely cyanide, berries, citric acid, yeast, water, and…wait, grapes.”
“Well, then,” Melissa said. “That definitely rules out suicide.”
“Why?” Muller asked.
“I read the label on bottle. Pure elderberry wine doesn’t contain grape wine.”
“And that tells you what?” asked Muller.
“That the killer poured a glass of wine for Jack, waited until he drank, waited until he died, and then refilled the bottle—with grape wine this time. Then, the killer cleaned the glass to make it look like the wine hadn’t been touched. Pretty good ruse—you almost missed it.”
“Wait, then how were only Jack’s prints on the bottle?” asked Muller.
“The perpetrator probably wiped the bottle down as he set it on the tray, and let Jack pour it himself.”
“Good enough logic for me,” the coroner said. “I’m ruling it a homicide.”
“So who does that leave us for suspects?” Muller asked.
“At the moment, only Clay Barnett and John Dawes,” said Melissa.
“John Dawes the ghost?” asked Muller.
“I was kidding. So, despite the discrepancy in Clay Barnett’s alibi, I’m thinking it was someone else. Barnett would have had to go somewhere to purchase the wine, and why would he since he has his own homemade elderberry wine. Then, the rest of it regarding the bottles is rather convoluted. I mean, where did the grape wine come from and what happened to its bottle? It had to be someone at the bar or with access to the bar or wine cellar,” said Melissa.
“So where do propose we begin?” Muller asked Melissa.
“The one who has access to both—Eli Varner,” she said.
“Meet me at the Grand Bismuth in a half hour?” Muller asked.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Melissa said.
# # #
Eli was not at the Grand Bismuth Hotel, having gone into the next town for supplies. No one could tell them when he might be back.
Detective Muller went back up to the crime scene, but Melissa sat down and ordered a ginger ale and orange juice from the bar. The bartender was female.
“So, did you know Jack Burroughs?” Melissa asked.
“Any one who’s worked her longer than a year knows Jack Burroughs and that includes me.”
“Why a year?”
“That was before Jack met Clay. This used to be his hangout place.”
“Oh. Was Jack seeing anyone before Clay?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“He and Eli had an on-again-off-again kind of thing.”
“Jack Burroughs and Eli Varner?”
“Yeah.” Melissa could tell she was uncomfortable talking now because she likely knew that she could throw suspicion onto Eli. That was really all Melissa needed to know. She’d find out the rest from Eli himself.
By the time Melissa finished her drink, Detective Muller had returned. “Find anything?” she asked.
“No. I don’t know why I thought I would, but I looked in every nook and cranny to see if I could find the wine bottle, but nothing.”
They walked back in to the lobby together. “The bartender just told me that Varner and Burroughs had an on-again-off-again relationship before Burroughs and Barnett were an item.”
Muller raised his eyebrows. “Okay. I was going to suggest we come back later, but I think we need to hang around to talk to Varner.”
“I think so, too.”
While they waited, Melissa called the market. Flora answered. “I just wanted you to know that I doubt I’ll be in today at all. Did Clay call you yet?”
“No. I texted him, but he didn’t call back like he did last time.”
Melissa told her the lab findings and the ruling. “Keep the lab findings to yourself, but perhaps, if you texted him the ruling, he’ll call you sooner. Also, did you have any idea that Jack had been involved with Varner before he and Clay were together?”
“I had no idea. I didn’t know Jack before he and Clay were together, and it’s something that never came up.”
“Don’t mention that to Clay either if you talk to him. It may be an element of surprise that we want to keep back.”
“If he calls and asks me about the homicide ruling, what should I say?”
“Only that it was cyanide poisoning.”
“All right.”
When she disconnected the call and turned around, Detective Muller was standing close behind her.
“Varner is in the kitchen. He just got back.”
“Okay. Let’s tell him as little as possible—not releasing any details other than the poisoning if we can help it—and see if he tells us anything interesting.”
Muller assented and turned to walk toward the kitchen with Melissa right behind. Varner was putting groceries away when they walked in. “You two, again. What can I help you with this time?” he said.
“Can we talk to you in your office?” asked Muller.
“Nope. It won’t be long till this place is bustling with people to prep the food for tonight. I need to get it put away. But no one’s here with us, so fire away.”
“Varner, what was your relationship with Jack Burroughs?” asked Muller.
“Relationship? I didn’t have one. I hired him for entertainment for the hotel from time-to-time.”
“We’re not talking recently,” Melissa said. “What about last year?”
Varner looked up sharply but kept on working.
“We toyed with having a relationship, but it just never worked out.”
“And you were okay with that?” Melissa asked.
“Yes, I was okay with that.”
“So why were you harassing him the night of the murder?”
“What do you mean harassing him? Is that something Barnett cooked up?”
“No, actually, I was sitting in the audience and heard it myself.”
Now, he stopped what he was doing and just looked at Melissa. “What is it you think you heard?” he asked.
That made Melissa wonder if there had been more confrontation later. “I heard what you said.”
“What exactly did you hear?” Varner repeated.
Melissa didn’t want to create a stand-off, but she hoped that by not being specific, he might reveal if there had been a later confrontation. “Which time?” Melissa asked, going out on a limb.
“Yes, all right. I admit it. I’ve had a hard-on for Jack for a long time. I never thought it would last with Barnett. I suppose that was the heated part that you heard. But let me ask you this—if I was crazy about Jack and angry with Barnett, why would I kill Jack instead of Barnett?”
“Maybe you thought you had until he came back down to the bar,” Muller piped up.
Varner just snorted. “If I was that much of a screw-up, I think I’d kill myself.”
“Do
you serve San Pedro Elderberry wine here?” she asked.
“Not as a general rule. It’s only made in limited batches, so I keep some in the cellar for VIPs.”
“Did you consider Jack a VIP?”
“No.”
“So how did he end up with a bottle of your San Pedro, on a tray, with a single glass?”
“I don’t know. He knew we had it. Maybe he ordered it up that night.”
“Ordered it up?”
“Yeah, we have room service.”
“And who has access to your wine cellar, Mr. Varner?”
“There’s just one key, and it hangs on the wall. Whoever is on duty for a specific shift has access.”
“And would you happen to know who was on duty that night?”
He shook his head and started working again. “I don’t keep the schedules; you’ll have to see my assistant manager for that.”
“Is he around?” Muller asked.
“This is his day off,” Varner responded.
“And you can’t find out for us who was on that night?”
“It would have been George Walsh, Henry Garcia, or Jaime Diaz.”
“You’re sure you don’t know which one?”
Varner shook his head. “Like I say, I don’t keep track. And if there weren’t any room requests for drinks, I wouldn’t have run into them.”
They thanked him and left through the bar’s door onto the street.
“Did we learn anything?” asked Muller.
“Two things, but the first one is that Varner is hiding something.”
“And two?”
“George Walsh must have been the one on duty that night. He was still here the next morning when I got here,” said Melissa.
“You don’t think he was working day shift?”
“Something makes me think not. I want to talk to him anyway. You know, there are so many ways we could check and cross-reference the info that we want. Varner must think we’re complete dolts. I’m sure I could ask to see last Thursday’s receipts and find out whether the wine was ordered.”
“That takes a warrant if they don’t give it up voluntarily, and I have a feeling that the word has gone out to not cooperate if they don’t have to,” said Muller.
“Huh. Apparently, the bartender I talked to today didn’t get the message.”
“Lucky us.”
Chapter 9
Melissa’s phone rang the next morning.
Janet’s voice came across. “Oh, Melissa. I am so embarrassed. I was about to file the bill of lading for the hot tub, and I see the delivery address is yours, Melissa, not mine. Our addresses are very close, you know. The delivery people must have gotten it mixed up.”
Melissa chuckled. “I hadn’t even thought about that possibility,” she said. “I just figured it was the same two guys who tried to bring my first one, but it must have been a different pair.”
“So you knew all along?”
“I was pretty sure, but I didn’t really know until after I talked to Brian.”
“Oh, my God. He must think I’m a complete idiot. I think if I had been here when they came, I’d have questioned it, but when it was all set up and running when I got home, I just assumed other things. I am so sorry.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Melissa said.
“But what are we going to do?”
“We’re going to leave that hot tub right where it is. Brian doesn’t begrudge it to you at all. If it had shown up at somebody else’s house, it would be different. But you know how much he loved staying there.”
“It’s kind of hard to accept when I know the truth.”
“Seriously, Janet. Brian just came into an inheritance, so it’s okay. He ordered one for me, and it was too big, so we sent it back and he ordered the second one, and it simply got delivered to you instead. You know what they say: Everything happens for a reason.”
“Awww…you guys are unbelievable. So are you guys going to get another one?”
“There’s probably one on its way here right now.”
“Well, all right.”
“We’ll likely have matching hot tubs across the way from each other.”
Janet laughed at that. They talked for a couple more minutes and disconnected.
Flora came into the main room just as Melissa finished the conversation. “Was that Janet Haas?”
“Completely mortified because she discovered the error this morning as she was filing the bill of lading because she saw it had my address on it.”
“How did that ever happen?”
“You know that little alley that runs back beside the next house down from me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That’s Main Street Court. So my address is 1004 Main Street, and Janet’s is 1024 Main Street Court.”
“That’s still a pretty big thing to mix up.”
“I have to wonder about their delivery team.”
“So, I talked to Clay this morning.”
“Oh! What did he have to say?”
“When I told him what the bartender had told you, he, of course, knew all about the relationship between Jack and Eli. Eli was in to S&M and Jack needed someone strong but gentle, like Clay. The trouble is that Eli didn’t want to let go, and it became problematic because they never knew how he was going to act.
“Apparently, when the hotel invited Jack to read that night, they told him that Eli would not bartend that evening. Clay encouraged Jack to take the gig because he wanted to help bolster Jack’s confidence in performing his work. Clay’s really beating himself up right now—about coercing Jack to take the gig, and worse, about deciding to stay there when they knew Eli was around.”
“That’s good information.”
“Except for one problem: if you talk to them again, they’ll probably alibi each other.”
“Why do you think that? Their stories diverge right now.”
“But sooner or later they are going to realize that they are the two main suspects, and—don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting in any way that they’re colluding—but they will likely both realize that it’s in their own interest to prove that neither of them left the bar during the time in question. The only one Eli has to alibi him is Clay, and the only one to alibi Clay is Eli.”
“If I recall, though, even if they do get their alibis straight, there is somewhat of a discrepancy with the time of death. I think between what both Clay and Eli told us, they both agree that Clay came in at midnight, so they can alibi each other from midnight to two, but not the two hours before that.”
“Okay, let’s look at this possibility. Let’s say Clay is telling the truth that he was with Jack from ten until midnight. I would guess Jack was asleep when Clay left. So, if we exclude Clay as a suspect, and Clay was with Jack, then Eli couldn’t have poisoned Jack in those two hours, and after that they were both in the bar.”
“That’s a lot of assumptions.”
“Only one really—that Clay is innocent and telling the truth. Eli is the one who lied about Clay being in the bar for twenty minutes, and, mark my word, that will come out. Eli will have to admit he lied there, so that Clay can alibi him.”
“Okay, I follow you. So if we do agree that what you say is correct, there still has to be another suspect—besides John Dawes, that is.”
Melissa started to laugh, but as soon as she thought of the John Dawes angle, she remembered George Walsh. She needed some way to verify who was on room service duty the night Jack was killed.
“That gives me an idea, then,” Melissa said. She called Detective Muller straightaway and asked him to do some more probing to find out who all was on duty that night.
“I’ve already looked at that angle. Strangely enough, everyone has a very dim memory and there are no records.”
“Eli told me there was a schedule.”
“I asked to see the schedule book,” Muller said, “and they told me there was no book, that they just write their schedule on a single sheet calendar and post it e
very week, and it gets tossed when the week is over.”
“Meaning we should have asked for it when we were there.”
“Yes. They could hardly have wiggled out of it then, but we didn’t.”
“But, I did get a listing of all employees. It’s not that extensive; we just need to talk to them one by one.”
Melissa knew he was right, but she just couldn’t be involved in all of that—it was too much time away. Yet, she wanted to be there to catch any nuances Muller might miss. She needed to be able to make some kind of intuitive leap. “Can you dig up some background on George Walsh? If you find anything worth looking into, I’ll go with you to talk to him.”
“That’s as good a place as any to start,” Muller said. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”
# # #
Melissa called Brian that evening to tell him about the conversation with Janet.
“Poor girl,” Brian said. “This would have been a clear-cut case for ignorance is bliss. I want to order another one for you.”
“I tried the one out that she got. It’s nice. It’s a comfortable size for two, and I don’t think we’ll be hosting any hot tub parties will we?”
He laughed. “I don’t think that’s our style.”
“I like that—our style.”
There was a pause of anticipation on the line.
“Brian, I don’t want to keep you on pins and needles for another week and a half, or even for another day. I do want to marry you.”
“It sounds like there is a but in there.”
“I just think we have a lot of things to talk about and work out first, but I want you to know that I love you and want to be with you, too. “
Chapter 10
Melissa felt a certain sense of relief now that she’d responded to Brian’s proposal. She didn’t know why she felt she always had to figure out everything up front, all by herself, before responding to things. This was a mutual decision. Brian wasn’t the kind to blunder into something without thinking it out nor was he the kind of guy who would try to muscle her to do what he wanted. And, she didn’t need to try to muscle him to do what she wanted, either.
They had both made a sign of commitment to each other, but it all depended on how flexible each of them could be. That was the unknown quantity. She knew he loved Catalonia, and the whole thing leading up to the proposal had been about having a home base there, so she didn’t think he was going to beg her to run off to California for good anytime soon.