by P. J. Conn
"He's from California West, and looking into the multiple injuries here."
"Joe Ezell, how nice to meet you. Your husband tells me you've spoken to Ida."
"Yes, she loves to chat. I believe she's been quite lonely and delighted to have someone here who treats her as a friend."
"What's wonderful for her, but we need to convince her not to harm those who come here to work, or to shop. You'll not be able to sell many antiques if customers fall on the porch stairs, or trip over rugs."
"I'd not thought of that," Eleanor surmised with a slight frown. "How silly you must think me. I could at least ask Ida to move upstairs."
"Would she go?" Joe asked.
"My wife can be very convincing," Doug responded. "Let's give it a try."
"Do that, and I'll call in a couple of days to see if you've been successful. Do you have anyone coming to do any work here this week?"
Doug walked Joe to the door. "No, it's just us for the time being."
Joe said good-bye, but he wasn't satisfied he'd solved the problem of multiple claims. When he picked Mary Margaret up that afternoon after her shift, he told her about the ghost. "Somehow asking her to move upstairs doesn't look all that promising. Do you suppose Reverend Hatcher has any experience removing ghosts?"
"I doubt it, but let's invite him to join us for dinner and ask while we have dessert. I'm baking a chicken, and there will be plenty."
While Joe wasn't happy about having to share his time with her, he accepted her suggestion. The lights were on in cottage five when they reached the Chrysanthemum Court and Mary Margaret knocked on Rev. Hatcher's door to issue the invitation and introduce Joe.
The minister glanced between her and Joe, and broke into a slow smile. "I'd love to come. Should I bring something?"
"No, give me an hour to pull it together before you join us."
"So you’re a detective." Luke stepped off the narrow porch to shake Joe’s hand. "Do you like reading mysteries? I spend most evenings reading and can never tell who did it until the author reveals him, or her, in the last few pages."
"Why don't you go on home and work on dinner?" Joe suggested, and Mary Margaret left them to see to it.
"I'm fond of Sherlock Holmes," Joe said. "He continually amazes me, or I should say Sir Arthur Conan Doyle does."
"I love Sherlock Homes, too. Would you care to come in for drink?"
"Sure." Joe followed him into the cottage. The solid maple furnishings were what many of the cottages had. He accepted a scotch and soda and took a chair.
Luke was a talkative soul. With black hair, and blue eyes, his gaze was riveting. His angular features couldn't be described as handsome, but he smiled so often Joe doubted anyone noticed. When there was a lull in their conversation, he saw no reason to wait for dessert to mention ghosts. He described the Victorian house and the residents belief it was haunted.
"Have you ever come across a ghost?" Joe asked.
"If you've ever walked through a military cemetery, you can feel a presence there, like a scream just below our level of hearing. Civilian cemeteries are calmer, but most of those buried there didn't die as violent a death as our soldiers did. As for a haunted house, no, I've not run across one."
"Ida may move upstairs as asked, but if she doesn't, is there some ritual you can perform to convince her to move on to heaven?"
Luke couldn't help but laugh. "Not off-hand, but I can probably find one. If you need me to give it a try, let me know, but I won't offer any guarantees."
They talked about Mickey Spillane's mysteries until Mary Margaret called them for dinner. Luke Hatcher wasn't what Joe had expected in a minister, but it had been so long since he'd been to church, other than to attend funerals, he thought he might simply be out of touch.
Chapter 5
Joe hadn't been in his office more than ten minutes Tuesday morning, when LAPD Detective Lynch strode through the door accompanied by a uniformed officer. He regarded it as a disastrous way to begin the day. He smiled anyway. "Good morning, Detective."
Lynch ignored the friendly greeting. "You're coming down to the station with us."
Joe stood and circled his desk. "Have you identified Matteo's killer?"
"We'll talk later."
"I've never ridden in a police car. Will you turn on the siren?"
"Shut up," Lynch uttered in a threatening whisper.
Lynch could be counted on to be an ass no matter what the occasion, and Joe slid into the back seat of the unmarked Ford sedan parked out front and kept quiet as they made the short drive. They hadn't handcuffed him, which he took as a good sign. When they arrived at the station, Lynch directed him into his office rather than an impersonal interrogation room. Another plus.
Lynch took the chair behind his desk and motioned for Joe to take one of the two in front. Thick file folders were stacked on the desk, and he opened the top one. It contained the photos Joe had given him. "This case becomes more peculiar by the hour, but you may be the key to solving it."
"Me? How?" Joe asked, sincerely puzzled.
"Didn't it strike you as peculiar that two women would come to see you about Matteo da Milano in a single day?"
"Yes, it was an odd coincidence."
"It may have been more than merely coincidence. Miss Remson and Miss Val Verde could have been working together. Lily Montell may also have been in on the plot."
"You've lost me. What plot is that?"
Lynch laid the photo of the woman in the fur coat on his desk. "They wanted you to photograph this woman, to throw us off the track. Maybe they drew lots, but one of them wore this outlandish get-up, and killed Mr. da Milano, while the other waited in her car at the corner and drove her away."
Dumbfounded, Joe stared at him. Constance Remson struck him as being cold enough to kill, but she was not the type who ever got her hands dirty. Paloma Val Verde probably couldn't even step on a spider, much less murder a man she loved.
"Interesting theory." Joe replied. "Can you prove it?"
"I will, eventually," Lynch assured him. "If you'd like to confess you were part of the conspiracy, I'll call in a stenographer to take your statement."
"This is the first I've heard of it," Joe insisted, shocked Lynch could regard him as an accomplice in such a bizarre undertaking. The detective had a habit of going off in unfortunate tangents, however. "Wait a minute, is this a prank?"
The detective swore under his breath. "I do not do pranks, Mr. Ezell. Most people realize I'm serious whenever I speak."
"It was just a thought," Joe replied. "You may be onto something though. Matteo saw quite a few women, and a couple could have gotten together to kill him, but I doubt it involved Miss Remson, or Miss Val Verde. The woman in the fur coat could have been a witness rather than the murderer, who could have escaped by the apartment building's rear door. I hope you can identify her soon. She's the key to this, not me."
Lynch sat back in this chair. "You've questioned the residents of Matteo's two apartment buildings. Have you no idea how to stay out of our way?"
"Miss Remson hired me to solve the crime. I'm only doing my job."
"You're free to go, but if you do stumble over some helpful information, call me first rather than Miss Remson."
Joe rose. "Sure. I don't suppose you'd like to give me a ride back to my office?"
"Call a taxi."
"See you around." He had no doubt that he would.
* * *
After returning to his office, Joe added a card for Suzanne Ritter and placed it on his bulletin board. She appeared to care so little for Matteo's loss, she could have been in on his murder. He rocked back in his chair. He knew only those who had come to him, or who lived in Matteo's buildings. That left the majority of women in Los Angles between the ages of twenty and forty as possible suspects he couldn't name. He didn't want to exclude Veronica da Milano either. He hadn't asked Lynch about her, but maybe he should have to discover what the LAPD knew.
Needing a break, he called
Hal Marten to report on the ghost at the Larson's Victorian home. "Mrs. Larson claims to chat with Ida, and promised to convince her to move to the second floor. Most workmen and customers will be on the first floor, so it might work."
"Do you believe there actually is a ghost?" Hal asked.
"I can understand why you're skeptical, and I have a chaplain from the VA hospital willing to help encourage the ghost to go on to heaven."
"This case just gets better and better," Hal replied. "Can you wind it up in under a week?"
"That's my hope."
"Great. Arizona Sunrise is opening this weekend, and we ought to go together and make a party of it."
Mary Margaret would love it even if he wouldn't. "This isn't really the type of movie that gets fancy premieres."
"So what? We'll make our own celebration . I'll see you Saturday morning. You want to invite Gilbert to come to the movie with us and bring his girl?"
Joe grimaced at the thought. "Why not? We ought to do our best to fill the theater seats."
He'd just hung up the telephone when Doug Larson called. "The mailman just tripped out on the sidewalk, fell and chipped a tooth. He was in front of the house, not inside it, do you think it counts?"
"Difficult to say. Did your wife talk to Ida?"
"Yes, she did, but Ida might not have been listening. What should we do now?"
Being no expert on ghosts, Joe wasn't sure. "I've found a minister who is willing to come to your house and attempt to send Ida along her way. Let me check with him and see when he's available."
"Swell, just don't make it too far in the future."
"Of course." As he hung up, he wondered if Matteo da Milano's ghost might be hanging out at the apartment where he'd died. He seriously doubted Mr. Perkins, the manager, would let him in to conduct a séance. Constance Remson would laugh at the prospect, but Paloma Val Verde would go for it.
* * *
Wednesday was the full moon, and Luke Hatcher suggested it was the best time to visit the Larson's home. "In the reading I've done about ghosts since we last spoke, during the full moon, they are more open to contact. It might be our best shot at encouraging Ida to move on."
"Do we need any special props?"
"Just candles, and I'll bring those and matches. I'll try to be serious, but it will be a challenge."
"Maybe you can conjure up Walter to meet her half way."
"The husband? Yes, that's a wonderful idea."
* * *
Mary Margaret went on the ghost mission with them. "What a beautiful house. It's no wonder Ida won't leave," she whispered.
"Concentrate on the glories of heaven to sweep her away," Luke encouraged.
"Singing angels, harp music, lost loved ones?"
"Yes, that's good. We have to look as though we know what we're doing or Ida may see through our efforts and stay put."
Doug and Eleanor Larson were dressed in black and whispered as they welcomed Mary Margaret, Joe, and Reverend Hatcher into their home. "I lit a fire in the fireplace. I hope that's all right," Doug murmured.
"Yes, it sets the mood," Luke responded. "Would you please turn off the other lights? Ghosts prefer the dimness of night."
Doug quickly saw to it. Eleanor helped Luke light the candles. They each took one, and it gave their faces a ghostly glow. Luke motioned for them to move into a circle. There was no furniture in the parlor other than the desk, so they had plenty of room. The smell of fresh paint scented the air.
Luke began with a brief prayer on the joy of this life and the beauty of the next one. His voice held a reverent depth, and sounded totally convincing as he continued, "Ida, we're gathered together this evening to celebrate your life, and to send you on to heaven where you surely belong. Walter has waited for you all these many years, run to him now."
The flames in the fireplace shot up in a rain of sparks, startling them all. Luke raised a hand to keep them silent. "Your sadness will disappear like the dew at dawn. Go now, return to God's love, and you will be joyfully remembered here."
Mary Margaret curled her hand into Joe's, and he squeezed her fingers. She was always eager to join in whatever high-jinx his work entailed. He'd thank her again later for making even chasing a ghost out of a haunted house a pleasure. He held his breath and wished Ida a happy journey. He hadn't felt her presence on his first visit to the Larson home, and felt only the warmth of the fire now.
They waited, five minutes, maybe ten before Luke turned to the Larsons and whispered, "Do you still feel her presence?"
Eleanor closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "No, I believe she is gone."
"Let's leave as quietly as we came," Luke offered. They blew out their candles and Doug shut the front door behind them with quiet care.
Luke didn't speak until they'd climbed into Joe's Chevy. "Lord help us, because I've no idea what to do next if Ida isn't gone."
Mary Margaret turned toward him. "What you said was so beautiful, I'm sure she was as touched as we were."
"Thank you. Let's hope so," he murmured.
Joe started the car and drove to the Chrysanthemum Court. "I'll file a report with California West, and see that you're paid, but I won't tell anyone else if you'd rather I didn't."
"Thank you. Let's see how it goes, before we congratulate ourselves."
"Wise plan," Mary Margaret responded. She invited the reverend to come into her cottage for coffee and cookies, but he thanked her, and entered his own home alone.
* * *
Friday was Halloween, and Joe bought several bags of candy in the drug store on the first floor of his building to take to Mary Margaret's. She loved chocolate, and so did he. He bought some Hershey bars for them to share while they gave out suckers to the neighborhood kids.
Mary Margaret wore her nurse's uniform, complete with white stockings and white oxfords. "The kids will think I'm wearing a costume, and it makes the evening more fun. You should have dressed as a cowboy."
"I'm afraid I lack the basic gear, ma'am, but if anyone asks, I'm a private detective."
"That's a good story. Oh, there's the bell." She picked up the bowl of suckers, and he opened the door. A small ballerina and a clown smiled up at her.
"Trick or Treat!"
She dropped suckers into their bags. "Isn't this fun?"
Joe laughed. "Sure is. I loved Halloween when I was a kid. We used to run from house to house to see how much candy we could get before we had to be home." He opened the door and found four children waiting, a pirate, an angel, a cowboy with a cap pistol in a holster on his hip, and a ghost in a flowing sheet.
Each resident of the Chrysanthemum Court handed out their own treats, but on other holidays they planned group parties with everyone attending. Joe knew them all, and was looking forward to a scrumptious feast for Thanksgiving. He and Mary Margaret ate pieces of a Hershey bar between callers.
"Thank you." She gobbled the chocolate, and then apologized.
"It's Halloween, so we can get by without displaying fine manners for a few minutes," Joe said.
Luke Hatcher stood in his doorway passing out candy, and when the last of the kids had come by, Joe walked over to speak with him.
"Wasn't that a lot of cute kids?" Luke asked. "Want some jelly beans?"
"No, thanks. I've not heard a peep from the Larsons, so your ceremony must have worked."
"It's only been two days," Luke cautioned. "Maybe Ida's just taking a nap."
"Do ghosts nap?"
"Maybe."
Mary Margaret walked up behind Joe. "Arizona Sunrise opens tomorrow, and Joe has a part in the movie. Would you like to come see it with us?"
"Really? I'd no idea you were a movie star," Luke replied.
"No, I'm not, and have such a small part you'll probably miss me," Joe explained.
"Thanks for the invitation, but I have the late shift at the hospital tomorrow. I sure want to hear about it though."
Embarrassed to the core, Joe muttered a quick good night and walked M
ary Margaret back home. He followed her into the kitchen. "That was sweet of you to invite him. Are we going to include him on all of our dates?"
"Please don't be jealous. Half the nurses at the hospital are in love with him, so he can find plenty of dates on his own. I was just bragging about you. That's all." She filled the coffee pot with water.
"Better wait until you see the film. You may want to deny we ever met."
She regarded him a sultry glance. "Never."
* * *
Their golf game brought both praise and humor Saturday morning. Gilbert played with a pro's keen eye, and Hal was refining his game with every stroke. Both men inspired Joe to work on his own skills. He needed to spend the occasional free afternoon at the driving range.
As they left the course, Hal invited Gilbert to join them for Arizona Sunrise, and the young man blushed deeply. "That sounds like fun, but Marsha invited some friends to her place for dinner tonight, and we'll have to go see the movie on our own."
"Don't wait more than a week," Joe advised. "It might not be in theaters long."
"It will have as good a run as any other Western," Hal argued. "You'll see Joe in the saloon scene."
"Don't blink," Joe advised. "Let's get back to Marsha. It's good that she wants to introduce you to her friends. Are you planning to take something?"
"Like what?" Gilbert asked, clearly perplexed.
"Flowers are good," Hal suggested. "Women always love flowers."
"A box of chocolates is always appreciated too," Joe added.
"Thanks, I'll take both." He walked to his car and turned to wave good-bye.
Hal and Joe stood in the parking lot a moment longer. "We might have to go with him on his honeymoon," Hal whispered.
"We could flip for the honor," Joe responded, and he laughed as a silly image came to mind. "Marsha is probably as naïve as Gilbert, and they should get along fine without a coach."
"Still, maybe we ought to offer," Hal countered, but he was laughing too. "See you tonight at the theater."
"Can't wait." Joe lifted his golf bag into his car's trunk, and sat down in the driver's seat to remove his golf shoes. For the Roy Rogers film, he'd rather have his own boots than limp around in a pair from the costume department. It would be a good errand for the afternoon, and keep his mind off the humiliation he was sure to suffer that night.