by Roslyn Woods
“Yeah,” he answered. “Maybe never.”
“I don’t know who can replace her,” said Shell.
“Wasn’t it you who found her?” he asked, pushing his cup aside a bit and leaning forward.
“Yes. I had a meeting to talk to her about my work,” she answered. “How did you know?”
“When I got to class I saw the police cars. Someone said you came in early. I’m sorry. That must have been a bad scene.”
“It was. I wish I could forget it.”
“They called me, you know. The cops.”
“I heard they were going to question everyone. Obviously, I had to go in, too.”
“Yeah. They probably think one of us did it.”
“What do you think?”
James Beringer paused before answering. “I just can’t imagine anybody in our class doing that. But then, I don’t really know many of the people.”
“Oh,” said Shell, wondering how to formulate her next question. Just then, Patrick arrived at the table with her coffee. “Patrick, this is James, a classmate of mine from Dr. Leone’s painting class. James, this is my friend Patrick,” she said.
Patrick put the two coffees on the table in front of Shell before turning to shake hands with James. Then Shell added, “We were just discussing what happened.”
“So you were her student, too, then?” asked Patrick, looking at James as he sat down.
“Uh-huh,” said James.
As Shell looked from Patrick to James and back, she took in the differences in their appearance. Even though James wasn’t particularly dark complected, his skin was a deeper color than Patrick’s, and he had dark brows and strong features with the sensitive eyes of an artist.
“I met her at the opening,” Patrick was saying. “I don’t seem to remember you, though.”
“I didn’t go. Had to go see my folks that weekend,” James replied. Then turning to Shell again he asked, “Do you know if there’s anyone at UT who will take over looking out for the co-op? She was sort of in charge—”
“I haven’t heard,” then leaning across the table and toward James she asked, “Do you know of anybody who disliked her? I thought she was such a nice person, I can’t imagine anybody having it in for her.”
“I can’t imagine any of the students did. Maybe her husband?”
“Maybe.”
“Did you ever meet with her outside of class?” Shell asked, wondering if he would be honest.
“Sure. She talked to me about the direction I was going with my painting a few times before class started. That’s it. I suppose same as you.”
“You in the graduate program at UT?”
“Yeah. Art history.”
“Me, too. Was she your advisor, too?”
“She was. I can’t believe we’ve never talked before,” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” said Patrick. “Too bad something like this is what it takes to get everybody talking.”
“Who else is talking?” James wanted to know.
“He just means,” said Shell, hedging while she nudged Patrick with her knee, “that people from class suddenly want to talk to each other about the murder. Nothing specific.” She didn’t want Patrick to mention that Gina had given her his name.
“I guess we’re pretty focused on our own stuff when we’re painting,” James agreed.
“I noticed Jeremy Bird talking to Dr. Leone a lot,” Shell ventured.
“You did?”
“You didn’t?”
“I guess I noticed him a time or two,” he answered.
“He’s not in our class. How do you know him?”
“I ran into him a few times before class. He was waiting to talk to Dr. Leone. Called her ‘Dori,’ like they were old friends.” Was that a sneer? Shell could relate.
“Really? Do you think they were?” she asked.
“Well, she did seem friendly with him. Maybe,” said James, and he looked out the window.
“Who told you I was the one who found the body?” Shell asked, suddenly afraid he was going silent.
He looked back at her, pulling himself away from whatever he was seeing out the window.
“Lacy. Lacy something. Is it Michaels?” he asked.
“We have a Lacy Michaels in our class. Dark hair? Cute? Front row?”
“That’s her.”
She was remembering that the police had arrived before any of the students had gotten to class. She recalled being ushered outside after answering questions. Some of the students had already gotten there. Gina had come up and asked her what was going on, and Shell couldn’t remember how she had answered. She had been in such a state of shock that the events immediately after finding Dr. Leone’s body were somewhat confused in her mind. She did recall that one of the officers had told her she needed to meet them downtown. Maybe that was how Lacy had known, or maybe Gina had told her.
“Did you notice anything strange when you were waiting after you saw that the police were there?”
“Everyone was just standing around asking each other what had happened. Then Brigitte started crying, and I asked Lacy what was up. She said you’d found Dr. Leone in there.”
“But who told them?”
“I don’t know.”
“The police didn’t come out and make an announcement like ‘Shell Hodge has just found the body of Dr. Leone’ did they?”
“No. We were all standing there and a couple of officers were already standing at the top of the steps and saying we couldn’t go in. I saw you come out with another policeman. Then Gina went over to you and spoke with you for a while. Brigitte was pretty far away from you, over by me.”
“And Lacy?”
“I think Lacy did go over and talk to Gina after a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the order of things very well, but it seems like Brigitte was already crying. Maybe she just knew something horrible had happened.”
“Maybe she did.”
Chapter 9
Micky Lindstrom was already seated at a round table at the back of the Manchaca Library when Shell and Patrick arrived. He was still wearing his jacket and scarf, and Shell noticed he was somewhat fidgety. He stood up as they approached, and Shell took off her coat and hung it on the back of a chair. She nodded to him and then watched as Patrick introduced himself and the two of them shook hands. Micky was fairly tall, a couple of inches taller than Patrick, and rather thin, with dark brown hair.
“Thanks for driving all the way down here,” he said quietly. “I hate driving up above the river if I don’t have to, and I’ve got a paper due.”
“It’s no problem,” said Patrick. “Thanks for interrupting your studies to see us. We’re going to go eat at a place on South Lamar, so this isn’t very far out of the way anyway.”
“I’m glad the library is almost empty,” said Shell. “It doesn’t seem like we’ll be bothering anyone if we talk here.”
“I think it’s fine. So what’s this about?” Micky asked nervously. He closed his books and pushed them aside. Then he looked from Patrick to Shell and back again.
“Well, Micky,” Shell responded in a low voice, “I feel pretty upset about Dr. Leone’s death, as I’m sure you are, and I’m trying to piece together a few things. I suppose you’ve already been interviewed by the detectives.”
“Yeah. They asked me a lot of questions, but I wasn’t all that comfortable, and they never asked questions that seemed to relate to what might have really happened.”
“I know,” said Shell. “They asked me if I hated Dr. Leone. It was like they thought I was the one who killed her. It was upsetting, and I was already upset.”
“I can imagine you’re even more upset than I am, since you found the body,” he said.
“I think everyone in our class is upset, and Dr. Leone had a lot of students at UT too, so I imagine they’re all in shock,” she said. “I’m wondering what you noticed yesterday.”
Micky Lindstrom appeared to be thinking about whether or not to answer for a
moment. “Look,” he said finally, leaning forward and folding his thin hands in front of him. His eyes were pale blue and rather deep-set, his brows dark and prominent. Shell didn’t think he was very attractive, and she wondered what Gina had seen in him. Then he started talking.
“I really liked Dr. Leone. She was a great teacher, quite brilliant in my opinion, and a nice person. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt her, but I think someone associated with the co-op did it.”
“Really?” Shell asked. She hadn’t expected him to jump in with a theory before she’d even asked him any specific questions. “Why do you think that?”
“Well, I talked to her quite a few times before class. She was always nice about meeting me a few minutes early if I had a question for her, and she really looked at my work carefully and told me how she was responding to it.” Micky leaned forward and frowned before he went on. “But I noticed there was always this guy hanging around who isn’t in our class. At first I thought maybe she had a boyfriend, but she didn’t act like he was a boyfriend, and he didn’t act like she was a girlfriend, but he seemed to be hovering around, always waiting to speak with her. It was weird.”
“And did you ever find out who this person was?” Shell asked.
“Yes. His name is Jeremy Bird, and he even has a couple of paintings in the gallery.”
“So, doesn’t that explain why he was around?”
“Not to me. No one else was always waiting around by her office every time I came in early. He drives a bright yellow Corvette, and he’s blond—I think he probably passes for good looking—so he’s plenty noticeable. I saw him getting out of the Corvette early on, so I knew it was his. Anyway, I started noticing he was nearly always there whenever Dr. Leone was at the co-op. No big deal, I know, but one day I was waiting in the hall outside the office to speak with Dr. Leone before she arrived at the co-op, and he was there. He strikes up a conversation with me, says hi or something. I say something like, ‘So you’re a painter.” And he says, ‘Yeah, when I’m not busy spying.’ I say, ‘What?’ and he says, ‘Yeah, I do undercover work.’ And I say, ‘Like for the police?’ and he says, ‘The work I do is a lot more lucrative than police work.’ Then he says, ‘I can’t tell you any more than that. It’s top secret stuff.’ And I’m thinking, ‘This guy is delusional.’” Micky Lindstrom paused for breath and Shell leaned in closer.
“This is a very weird story!” she said, her eyes huge.
“Yeah,” said Micky, “and it get’s weirder. A week or so after this guy tells me he’s a spy, I show up early to class and think I’ll go by Dr. Leone’s office. I walk into the hall and I see the office door opening. Then I see Jeremy Bird coming out of there, and he turns around and looks back into it. I hear Dr. Leone’s voice, and she’s saying, ‘Remember, you promised to keep this quiet,’ and then I see her hand, just her hand, as she reaches out and gives him something. Then he says, ‘Sure thing, Dori,’ like they’re actually friends. The door closes and he starts walking down the hall toward me. He gives me a big wink like I’m in on some kind of secret, and he passes me. I turn around and watch him go, and I see him putting a roll of bills into his pocket. A roll of bills!”
“Oh, God!” said Patrick. “He was blackmailing her!”
“That’s what it looked like,” said Micky.
Shell sat back in her chair frowning. Then she leaned forward again. “So, do you think she quit paying him or something, and he killed her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Wow. And did you tell the police about this?” she asked.
“No. They kept asking me questions about the students in the class, and who did I know at UT in the grad program, stuff like that. Also, did I hate Dr. Leone, like anyone would tell them if they did! After I’d answered all those questions, they just said they’d be in touch if they had any more questions and told me I could leave. I was still so stunned, it didn’t even occur to me to say, ‘Hey wait a minute you asked me all the wrong questions.’ I just left. But I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Shell’s impression of Micky’s appearance had made a complete one-eighty while he spoke. Not only did he seem intelligent, he seemed sincere and concerned and almost handsome in a quirky way.
“Tell me something,” she said. “When you got to the co-op for class on Tuesday, what did you see?”
“There were four police cars in the parking lot, and there were two officers standing guard around Dr. Leone’s Volvo. We weren’t to go near it. Then there were also two cops at the top of the steps telling people they couldn’t go in.”
“So there were students wanting to go in?”
“Only a few when I got there. Remember, I’m one of the students who tends to get there early, so I was maybe fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Anyway, I’d say there were six or seven there when I arrived. They were standing around at the bottom of the steps trying to get the cops to answer questions. And of course everyone was talking to each other and trying to figure out what was going on. The cops weren’t talking other than to tell us we couldn’t go in the building. In a while, I saw you coming out with an officer. At first I thought you were under arrest. Then I saw you talking to Gina Sanguinetti and the officer walked off.” He paused and took his scarf off. The animation of talking seemed to have warmed him up. “After a while I noticed more people had arrived and more were arriving and having to park on the street because of the way the police cars were sort of blocking some of the lot. Brigitte was sobbing like her heart was broken. Then Lacy Michaels told the people on my side of the group that she was going to go find out what was going on. She went over and talked to Gina. One of the police officers was saying we’d find out about the problem soon enough and that there wouldn’t be any class today. Then he said, ‘Please disperse.’”
“So how did you know I’d found Dr. Leone’s body?” Shell asked.
“Oh. Lacy came back to where I was standing after talking to Gina. She told us that you’d found Dr. Leone in there and she was dead.”
“So what was Brigitte crying about?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she just got a sense that something awful had happened, or maybe she knew something.”
“I’m really confused,” said Patrick. “You’re saying that Jeremy Bird was probably blackmailing Dr. Leone, and Brigitte somehow knew Dr. Leone had been killed when no one but Shell had been in the building?”
“Not exactly. I just think it looked like blackmail, and I don’t know a thing about Brigitte. She never said what she was crying about, but it’s weird, isn’t it? I don’t know what any of it means, but if I was putting money on who killed Dr. Leone, my money would be on Jeremy Bird.”
“I’m kind of in shock about this story, Micky,” said Shell.
“Could I ask you a question?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“How did she die?”
Shell looked at him and saw sympathy written in his eyes. Sympathy for Dr. Leone. “She was stabbed through the base of her skull with a palette knife,” she answered quietly, realizing there was no way to tell him gently.
“Oh, Jesus!” said Micky. “How? How is that possible?”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” said Shell. “Not many palette knives are rigid, and none of them are sharp.”
“I think I have one that’s rigid enough, but those things are dull,” Micky said. “Whoever did it would have had to sharpen it for, like hours to get the point and the sides sharp enough. Geez, it’s like one of those ice pick murders!” He sat thinking and staring at the table for thirty seconds before looking back up at Shell. “It had to be planned. Whoever killed Dr. Leone imagined the whole thing before they did it. And it’s really brutal isn’t it? So whoever did it must have really hated her.”
“Okay,” said Patrick, “I’ll talk to you about the murder over dinner, but you have to turn off the ringer on your phone.”
“I don’t like doing that,” Shell answered.
�
�Just this one time. I went sleuthing with you. Now you have dinner with me at a nice place without interruptions.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll put it on vibrate.”
“Okay, it’s a deal.”
It was cold, and Shell was grateful to be in the warm, candlelit dining room of Olivia’s restaurant on South Lamar. After they’d placed their orders, Shell couldn’t help but talk about the discoveries of the day.
“I can’t believe Jeremy acted so crazy when he talked to Micky.”
“You can’t? I always thought he was weird.”
“Weird, but not weird,” said Shell.
“No, I thought he was both,” Patrick argued.
“It’s probably something guys can see in other guys,” Shell guessed. “Do you think he could have done it?”
“I haven’t got the vaguest notion, but the stuff Micky said makes him sound pretty insane.”
“I thought he was okay when I first met him. Then he started acting really uppy about art and talking down to Margie. I got so I couldn’t stand him.”
“Yeah, and he tried to flirt with you.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Oh yeah, he did too.”
“What are you talking about ?”
“You can’t tell when a guy is coming on to you? He smiles and acts interested all the time.”
“I thought he was just trying to get on my good side for Margie’s sake.”
“Uh-uh. He was trying to get you to notice him as a guy, and you never gave him any encouragement.”
“He does seem amazingly vain,” Shell agreed. “I thought he must act like that to everybody.”
“Who knows? I just noticed how he acted around you.”
“You know, he threatened Margie.”
“How?”
“When he came to pick his stuff up he told her he’d make her sorry for breaking up with him.”
“You think he’d hurt her?”
“I have no idea what he’d do. It sounds like he’s definitely missing a microchip.”
Chapter 10