by Nic Saint
She fixed us with a knowing look. Somehow, she seemed to have caught on that we were not your garden-variety contractors. I nodded. “We promise, Miss Hudson. Whoever did this will not escape their punishment.”
And I meant this with all my heart.
Chapter 21
We were on our way to Alex Knuckles—this time we didn’t bother to make an appointment but figured we’d just surprise the man—when I got a message from Spear Boodle, my old boss at the law firm. He wanted to meet and talk about Valerie Gabby, whom he was now representing, apparently. So the others dropped me off in Manhattan, while they went on to Knuckles.
I hadn’t seen Spear in months, not since he unexpectedly dropped me from the agency that carries his name—or least the name of his dad Nixon Boodle. So it came as something of a surprise to receive his message now.
He’d asked to meet in a coffee shop near the offices of Boodle, Jag, Lack & Noodle, and when I arrived, he waved to me from inside the store, where he’d gotten a window seat. He looked as handsome and stunningly male as I remembered.
Spear is one of those men who has to fight women off with a stick. They simply flock to him like bees to honey. He’s tall, built like a movie star, and a very eligible bachelor. With his curly hair, worn just a little bit too long for a lawyer, he’s the kind of man women dream of. And so did I, of course. I’d had a crush on him since the day I went to work for him, and judging from the way my spine now turned to jelly, and so did my legs, that hadn’t changed.
So I told myself to be strong and professional, that I was here in an official capacity only, and held my head high and my face inscrutable.
“Hey, Stien, great to see you again,” he said by way of greeting as he darted a quick peck on my cheek. I inadvertently touched the spot, and felt my cheeks flush. So much for strong, professional, and inscrutable.
I took my place across from him and ordered a double latte and a scone. If I couldn’t snack on Spear, at least I would have something else to snack on.
“So…” he said, his eyes sparkling.
“So…” I said, taking in the full effect of Spear Boodle.
“How have you been, Stien?”
“Good,” I said. “I started my own company since I left the firm.”
“I heard about that,” he said appreciatively. “Well done.”
“Thanks.” I had no choice, of course. When you’re let go from one of the biggest law firms in the city, there aren’t a lot of options left.
“My hands were tied, Stien,” he said now. “The partners decided that keeping our client happy was more important than keeping you on.”
“I understand,” I said, and I did. A client had lodged a complaint against me, so there really wasn’t much Spear could do. “It wasn’t your fault,” I told him, just to show that I didn’t hold a grudge, which I didn’t.
“Thanks,” he said, and smiled. “I’d feared this would be a very awkward conversation, and potentially a very short one.”
I smiled back. “It doesn’t have to be. We’re both adults, Spear. I understand you had no choice, and I accept that.”
He nodded. “Valerie Gabby,” he said, getting right down to business. “Rupert Lohenstein has asked us to represent her against the allegations of murder. She engaged you as her private protection service? Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s right. She hired us because she felt… threatened.”
“By her husband?” he asked immediately, on the ball as usual.
“Mostly her husband,” I confirmed.
“The police are in something of a fix,” he said now, stirring his coffee. “They seem to have misplaced the body, so it’s difficult for them to proceed.”
“Can you get her released?” I asked. “Based on a lack of evidence?”
He grimaced. “Problem is, two cops arrived on the scene just as she was choking the life out of this Skip Brown kid.”
“Skip Brown is alive and well,” I told him. I’d decided to tell him the same story we told Sam. “What they saw was Valerie choking a dummy we prepared for her so she could work off some of her anger against men.”
His eyebrows shot up into his fringe. “Is that a fact?”
I nodded. “We told the police this, but they remain skeptical.”
“Of course they do,” he grunted. “They made total fools of themselves. If this is true…” He eyed me uncertainly. “Are you prepared to testify under oath about this dummy thing?”
“Of course,” I said without hesitation.
“It will be your word against that of two NYPD detectives,” he warned.
“I’ll testify if you need me to,” I insisted.
“That’s great,” he said, taking a swig of coffee. “You look fabulous, Stien. Maybe we could go out sometime? Dinner and a movie perhaps?”
He said it so casually I almost didn’t catch the momentousness of the occasion. Me? Going out with Spear Boodle? The hot young lawyer who was destined one day to take over the crown of his father and become head of the most prestigious law firm in Manhattan? You gotta be kidding me!
“Um, sure,” I said now, trying to hang on to my professionalism. He was watching me keenly as he drained his cup. I had no idea why he would ask me out. Professional courtesy? To apologize for letting me go? I had no idea. I just knew that my heart was aflutter and my ovaries were jumping with joy that a man as attractive and manly as Spear would even consider sitting down with me for more than five minutes and devour an entire meal with me.
He grinned. “It’s a date,” he promised, and then threw down his napkin. “Listen, I gotta run. I promised Valerie I’d be back in to give her an update.”
“Sure, of course. How is she holding up?”
“Not too good. She seems to be suffering from fits of depression, interspersed with episodes of rage. She’s already kicked up quite a storm in there. If we get her off, I’d like to advise her a good therapist.”
“Episodes of rage?” I asked. That wasn’t good.
“Yeah. She attacked a guard the other day, which isn’t helping our case, and she nearly attacked me when I went in to talk to her. She’s being closely watched now.” He shook his head. “She’s one very disturbed woman.”
“She… she must be worried sick about her little girl,” I said.
“Possibly, yes. That’s probably part of it. I’m contending this is all her ex-husband’s fault. This Alex Knuckles must have done quite a number on her.”
I nodded. “That was our conclusion as well.”
We both rose, and Spear shook my hand warmly, then gave me another peck on my cheek, and lingered this time, whispering, “It was great to see you again, Stien. I’m looking forward to our date.”
It was a good thing he was still holding on to my hand, otherwise I’d have plunked right back down again, my knees wobbling dangerously.
And then he was gone, his masculine scent enveloping me and making me feel slightly lightheaded and giddy. What Valerie’s reasons for attacking him were, I didn’t know, but my own were one hundred percent hormonal.
I quickly took out my phone to get an update on the interview with Alex Knuckles, but there were no messages. So I figured the interview was still ongoing, and Edelie and Estrella were doing their utmost to get as much out of Valerie’s ex-husband as possible, for the sake of Valerie and Sofia.
Chapter 22
Sam didn’t like this whole dummy thing. So when he swept into the office of Angela Jacobs, it was with a frown on his face. If this was true, and Valerie had strangled a doll, he and Pierre had made utter fools of themselves. But if it was true, why hadn’t Valerie said anything when they interviewed her? She seemed under the impression she’d actually killed a man. Though to be honest she hadn’t said all that much. She’d been extremely distraught at the time, and had appeared a little unbalanced.
He waltzed into the coroner’s office, and saw that Angela was busy in the corner, typing up a report, while one of her assistants was scrubbing
the operating table where she examined the bodies. A body bag lay nearby.
“Hey, Sam,” she said without looking up, then took off her glasses and glanced at him. “I know what you’re going to ask me, and the answer is no. No, I can’t be certain that the body was actually a body and not a dummy.”
“You can’t?” he asked, flabbergasted.
“Of course not. I did a cursory examination at the scene. I checked for vital signs and there were none. I established there were ligature marks, obviously from being choked to death, but I reserved further observations for the autopsy report.” She shook her head. “But if that was a dummy, it was a very good one, Sam. In fact that was the best dummy I’ve ever come across. The body was still warm when I got there, and certainly felt like an actual body to me. And judging from what I saw, it seemed made for choking.”
“Made for choking? What do you mean?”
“Victims of strangulation suffer from bloodshot eyes, often void their bladder or bowels and have pressure marks and discoloration on their throats and behind their ears. I noticed all of these things. So if that was a dummy, it was a remarkably lifelike one, Sam, but if you insist that it was, I can’t say with a hundred percent certainty that it wasn’t because I don’t have a body.”
“Dammit,” he grunted.
“And now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do, and these are no dummies,” she said with customary bluntness. She wasn’t smiling, but then Angela never smiled. In fact Sam couldn’t remember ever catching her at the sordid deed in all the years they’d known each other and worked together.
“All right,” he said finally. “Thanks. Will you write that in your report?”
“I’m writing nothing of the kind,” she said. “I made my report and I stand by it. If you want to add to it, go ahead, but I’m not changing one letter. I have my reputation to protect, so what I just told you is strictly off the record.”
“Great,” he grumbled, and then stalked off. So now he had a woman locked up who may or may not have murdered a dummy. That was just great.
It was all very fishy, he felt, and he blamed the Flummox sisters for putting him on the spot here. But then what else was new?
Moments later he walked back into his office, and wasn’t surprised to see Spear Boodle sitting there, smugly adjusting his five-thousand-dollar suit.
“Detective Barkley,” said Boodle. “You probably know why I’m here.”
“Yeah, I do,” he acknowledged reluctantly.
“It has come to my attention that there has been a development?”
Sam took his own seat and glared at the lawyer. He didn’t like lawyers. They made his life a lot more miserable than it needed to be.
“You mean the dummy thing?” he asked.
How the hell had Boodle found out about that so quick?
“I talked to Ernestine Flummox, one of the three sisters in whose home the quote unquote ‘body’ of Skip Brown was discovered.”
Oh, so that’s how he found out. Of course. “So?” he challenged.
“So it turns out that not only has your department managed to misplace the victim’s body, but now it turns out the victim was a mere dummy! We are demanding the immediate release of my client, as you can well imagine.”
“But of course,” he said, trying to remain polite but having a hard time not wrapping his own hands around the man’s neck and squeezing.
“I’ve filed a motion with the judge. I’m sure that he will see the error of your ways and release my client promptly. A grave judicial error has taken place, and I’m not sure my client won’t be pressing charges against your department for slander and false arrest and—”
“You do whatever you have to, Boodle,” he said, “but if it were up to me the Gabby woman stays put. I know what I saw. And the man she murdered wasn’t a dummy, I can assure you. That was a real person she strangled!”
“And I can assure you, Detective,” said Boodle, weighing his words carefully, his eyes steely now, “that this isn’t the last you’ll hear from me.”
And with these words, their threat clear, he quickly rose and strode out, leaving a whiff of his five-hundred-dollar cologne. Sam settled back in his chair. Great. He was sure Boodle would get Valerie off, and if he did, she’d be out there again, a menace to society. He thought for a moment, then picked up his phone. Whatever happened, Valerie had to be watched like a hawk.
To prevent her from repeating her earlier behavior. This time she may have strangled a dummy, but who knew what she was going to do next?
And if the Flummoxes insisted on having her stay with them, their lives were in danger next. He just hoped that before she assaulted the triplets, she wrapped those deadly fingers around her lawyer’s neck first.
Chapter 23
I met my sisters back at the house, where they’d returned after their interview with Alex Knuckles. It hadn’t exactly gone according to plan.
“There was no interview,” Estrella complained.
“He pretty much threw us out,” Edelie confirmed.
“Or at least he would have, if he’d let us in in the first place.”
“Wait, you never got to sit down with the man?” I asked.
Edelie shook her head. “Nope. He said he’d already been badgered enough by cops and reporters and he didn’t need two dainty little minxes like us bothering him as well.” She frowned. “Dainty little minxes. Honestly?!”
“When I asked him why he put that ghoul inside his wife, he merely stared at me, though,” said Estrella. “So I’m starting to think he might have had nothing to do with that after all.”
“You told him about that?” I asked, stunned.
Estrella shrugged. “He forced my hand, with his outrageous behavior.”
“He pretty much turned into a ghoul himself,” said Edelie. “His face went beet-red when Strel asked him and he looked like he was about to explode.”
“So you don’t think he’s behind this?” I asked.
Edelie thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don’t, actually. I could tell he genuinely had never even heard of ghouls or all of that stuff before, so I’m pretty sure he’s innocent.”
I plunked down on the couch. “But then who’s behind this whole thing?!” I cried. This was getting ridiculous. We were running out of suspects here.
“I don’t know,” said Estrella. “All I know is that Joanna Hudson got me a free subscription to Mogue Magazine, and I couldn’t be more grateful!” She took out a voluminous copy of the fashion bible from her bag and was now fingering it with obvious relish, making little appreciative noises as she did.
“How can you even think about fashion at a time like this?” asked Edelie.
Estrella tilted her chin. “I can always think about fashion,” she stated haughtily. “It’s important to me, and to the people of the world. If not for fashion… we’d all be walking around naked! And freezing to death!”
I wanted to remind her that clothes were what protected us from freezing our tushes off, not fashion, but it seemed like a pointless discussion. “What’s important right now is that we’re running out of options. And out of time.”
“What do you mean?” asked Edelie, darting exasperated looks at Strel.
I told her about Spear’s assessment of Valerie’s mental state, and how she seemed to be going from bad to worse.
“It’s that ghoul,” said Estrella knowingly, looking up from her perusal of Mogue. “It’s eating her up inside. Pretty soon there will be nothing left of the original Valerie, and that ghoul will have consumed her completely.”
“As long as she’s in prison we can’t help her,” I said. “Unless we break her out, of course.”
“You don’t have to break her out,” Gran said as she waltzed in from the kitchen.
“Why?” I asked. And why did Gran always know things we didn’t?
“She’s coming home,” said Gran. “I just got a call from Sam. He’s dropping her off at the house.”
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We jumped up from our respective places on the couches. “He’s dropping her off?” I asked.
“He’s letting her go?” Edelie chimed in.
“Yes, but he called to tell me we have to watch her very carefully. He seems to feel she’s a menace both to herself and to others. So his advice is to keep a close eye on her, and not to leave her alone with anyone if we can avoid it. Sam seems to think she’s liable to attack anyone at any moment.”
“That’s very nice of Sam,” said Edelie.
“He’s genuinely concerned about our well-being,” said Gran. “Which is why it’s imperative you rid Valerie of that nasty ghoul as soon as possible.”
I groaned. “Gran, can’t you take care of that?”
“No, I can’t,” she said. “My hands are tied. Valerie came to you for help, so you have to put things right.”
“I’m pretty sure she came to you for help,” I protested. “Wasn’t it your friend Beatrix Yeast who sent her here?”
Gran’s eyes glittered. “She did, with the understanding that you would take her on as a client. You took a sacred oath when you agreed to become responsible for Valerie’s well-being, so now you better not fail her.”
And with these words, she swept from the room, leaving us all groaning in despair. Since we’d taken on this case, Valerie had been becoming gradually more consumed by a ghoul, Petunia had jumped to her death, and we were still no closer to figuring out who was behind this than we were at the beginning.
“Where is Skip?” asked Edelie. “Maybe he discovered something at that wake?”
“I doubt it very much,” I muttered.
I liked Skip, but he wasn’t exactly Sherlock Holmes. Or even Dr. Watson. Somehow I had the impression that if this was ever going to be solved, it was up to us, and since I had very little faith in our own powers of deduction as well…
The doorbell rang, and I said, “That must be Sam with Valerie.”
But before I could answer the door, Edelie had already skipped from the room. Judging from the voices coming from the hallway, I was right. Sam was here with Valerie. And when she walked into the living room, I saw that Spear hadn’t exaggerated: she looked like death warmed over.