Murder She Typed

by Sylvia Selfman

  Since I’d brought Sherlock home and deposited him on a nice fluffy pillow, he’d spent most of the time sound asleep. After I checked on him for the hundredth time to make sure he was still breathing, I realized I hadn’t had anything to eat other than the two candy bars from the vet’s vending machine so I brewed a cup of coffee and popped half a stale bagel into the toaster.

  The doorbell rang. “Izzy, open up, it’s me.”

  I opened the door. Flo, carrying a large rectangular white bakery box, brushed past me and into the kitchen. “I’ll have a cup of coffee if you don’t mind,” she said, flinging open the box. “Ta da. Behold…a veritable cornucopia of desserts.”

  I stared glumly at the lineup of donuts. Something really had to be bothering me if the dozen twinkling donuts staring back didn’t improve my mood.

  “Come on, cheer up. All’s well that ends well,” Flo said plucking a chocolate donut with chocolate icing and peanuts from the box.

  “Other than Sherlock’s surviving, nothing has ended well,” I said glumly. “Whoever broke into my house is still out there. Who knows what he’ll do next.”

  “Why should he do anything else? He got what he wanted. He obviously wanted the manuscript. So it’s over. You can relax.”

  “Is it? How do I know for sure? What if he decides to come back just for the hell of it? We’re dealing with someone really dangerous. Think about it, if it weren’t for those two guys, we might still be locked in that shed.

  “That’s all the more reason to report the break-in. If you won’t go to the police then I will and I’ll tell them everything. About your brakes going out after the non-bridal shower, about our getting locked in the shed, about your place being broken into and Sherlock being poisoned. And about Sondra’s manuscript being stolen.”

  “No, Flo. I told you I can’t say anything because I stole the manuscript first.”

  Flo nodded and finished off her donut, then reached for a second one.

  I gasped as the realization hit me. “Flo, there must be something in that manuscript…something that could prove who killed Sondra. Otherwise why go to that trouble to steal it?”

  I stared at the donuts. Small circles within larger circles. I was on a merry-go-round. Going round and round in circles, unable to get off. I gasped again. “Flo, I bet that everything that’s been happening is somehow related to her mother’s will! When she read the beginning of her bio in writing group it was all about her brother being jealous of her and actually hating her. Then that evening when Foster invited Sondra to join our table, she mentioned she’d just met with a lawyer. I bet it was over the mother’s will.

  “So it’s perfect!” Flo said brightening. “Find out who her brother is and you’ve got the killer.”

  “Yeah but how do we find him? Sondra Sockerman’s not her real name.” Unable to resist any longer I plucked a cream filled donut from the box. It was brain food after all.

  “Well,” Flo said, “it had to be someone who knew you had the manuscript.”

  “But who?” Even the donut couldn’t lift my mood. Then it hit me. “Merv! He saw the manuscript in my condo. I told him I was returning it the next day to Dr. Linda’s. So when he broke into her home and didn’t find it there he must have realized I still had it.”

  “Merv,” Flo said, her eyes narrowing. “I always knew he was bad news.”

  I lay in bed unable to fall asleep. Possibly due to my condo being lit up like a Christmas tree. Despite the new locks on all the doors and windows, a new alarm, and a baseball bat that I’d borrowed from my neighbor, I still felt vulnerable.

  Could Merv really be the brother of Sondra? They didn’t resemble each other. But then how could they, what with all of Sondra’s plastic surgeries? In all the time I’d dated Merv, he’d never mentioned having a sister. And how about the night Foster brought Sondra over to our table at the restaurant. Would Merv sit through that entire evening pretending not to know Sondra? And vice versa? Were the two of them playing some kind of bizarre cat and mouse game with each other?

  Perhaps Flo and I had it all wrong the night we followed Merv to Sondra’s condo. Maybe he wasn’t there for a romantic liaison like we’d thought, but rather for a family spat over their mother’s will.

  Did the guy dressed in black breathing heavily as he headed up the Bump and Grind after Sondra bear any resemblance to the Merv I knew?

  The huffing and puffing certainly did.

  All roads seemed to lead to Merv. So why, I asked myself, was I still planning to go on our dinner date the next day?

  The sizzling prime rib perhaps.

  Chapter 35

  The morning sunlight filtered through the shutters. I studied the pattern it made as I lay in bed listening to Flo’s rant.

  “Are you nuts, Izzy? You’ve convinced me that Merv not only killed Sondra and broke into your condo! And even tried to kill your cat! And you’re still planning to go out with him? Not to mention his luring us out to the shed and locking us in.”

  “He knows I’d never turn down a steak dinner and he’d be suspicious if I didn’t go. Anyway I’m probably safer out in public than staying at home. Sherlock’s not the best watch dog––watch cat,” I whispered, hoping Sherlock wouldn’t hear. He was perched on my bedroom chair happily licking away at his non-balls.

  “Besides what if it wasn’t Merv who broke into my place? I need to keep all options––or in this case, suspects––open,” I continued. Though of course, I knew Flo was right. Why would I deliberately put myself in harm’s way?

  If I didn’t go I’d have to come up some credible excuse, otherwise Merv might realize I suspected him. And I certainly didn’t want that–– if he had broken into my condo once, he could easily do it again––when I was home

  I crawled out of bed and headed to the kitchen. “I hope you appreciate that I’m feeding you first,” I told Sherlock who had magically appeared at my feet. He began eating even before I set the bowl of stinky fish flavored cat food onto the floor. It did my heart good to see Sherlock slowly coming back to his normal bossy self. I still hadn’t heard back from the vet with the lab results and decided if I didn’t hear from him in the next day or so, I’d give him a ring.

  I dropped a pod into my coffee maker and fried up an egg. “I hope you notice that I’m keeping to my diet,” I said to Sherlock. “No more junk food until I lose eight pounds.”

  If only losing eight pounds was my biggest concern.

  I flipped on the TV and took that first sip of coffee of the day––which as it happened lifted not only the fog of sleep but the fog of what happened to the coversheet of Down and Dead in Palm Springs by Izzy Greene.

  Of course. How could I not have realized it before?

  If I had accidentally included Down and Dead among the dummy pages I’d put in Dr. Linda’s drawer when I’d taken––stolen––Sondra’s manuscript…that meant that whoever broke into Dr. Linda’s house to take Sondra’s manuscript had found the dummy copy and knew I had the original. That’s why he lured Flo and me out to the shed—so he could break into my condo to get it.

  That opened up a new kettle of fish––stinkier even than Sherlock’s breakfast. It meant Sondra’s brother could be Merv––or any one of the men in my writing group. Since they all knew Dr. Linda had the manuscript as she’d announced it in class.

  The person who killed Sondra and tried to kill me was still out there. And worse yet, he was probably not finished with me. If Sondra’s manuscript held the evidence of who her brother was and if he thought I was privy to it, he would no doubt stop at nothing to silence me.

  Merv, Danny, Frank, Nate. One of them was Sondra’s brother. One of them had tried to kill me––not once but several times. Why would he give up now?

  It was too terrifying to think about.

  Sherlock must have sensed my anxiety. He walked over and rubbed against my leg. I reached down and patted him, “Speak up, Sherlock. Who was it? Who tried to poison you?”

  If onl
y cats could talk.

  I ate my fried egg which left me still feeling hungry, then hunted through the fridge for something a bit more substantial, all the while thinking how critical it was that I discover the identity of Sondra’s brother.

  I remembered Sondra stating in her bio that she’d run into a guy that she’d dated in college. A Ted…Ted Jorgenson––obviously my memory hadn’t entirely gone to pot. She’d said he was a dentist in Palm Springs. I decided to give Dr. Jorgenson a call to see what I could find out.

  *******************************

  “No. Of course you may not speak to Dr. Jorgenson,” the receptionist said. “He’s a very busy dentist. He can’t speak to just anyone who calls. Now if you’d like to make an appointment…”

  “Yes, fine, I’d like an appointment. For a teeth cleaning.

  “Well, let’s see now.” There was a period of silence as she, no doubt, checked the schedule of the great Dr. Jorgenson. “It happens I do have a cancellation with the dental hygienist this morning.”

  “I’ll take it. Oh, and when the dental hygienist is finished. I’d like to have Dr. Jorgenson check my teeth.”

  I’d no sooner hung up when the phone rang. It took me a moment to realize the name on the readout was that of the vet. He asked how Sherlock was doing, then said what I already suspected, the lab results confirmed Sherlock had been poisoned

  “By any chance, do you have lilies planted around your yard or perhaps someone sent you some recently?”

  “Unfortunately no one’s sent me flowers in a long time. And there aren’t any growing in my yard that I know of.

  “Well, your cat managed to get hold of a member of the Lilium species somewhere. It’s highly toxic to cats. Ingestion of even a very small amount of the plant can cause severe kidney damage and if not treated immediately, death. Sherlock was lucky you found him in time.”

  “Could someone have tried to poison him with the plant?”

  “That’s always a possibility. However. I’d first check your neighborhood for the plant.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” I said and hung up.

  Someone had purposely tried to poison Sherlock. I knew it. But why? He was only a cat. It had to be someone who hated cats. Merv obviously had no love for cats. I recalled the scratches on his arm the last time we slept together.

  Nonetheless, it was important that I not jump to any premature conclusions.

  **************************************

  I was about to commit murder. Murder in the dentist’s chair if the dental hygienist, Becky, (according to her name tag), didn’t shut up. I was her prisoner as she dug into my gums and rattled on about her lazy and messy husband who never picked up his dirty underwear, then about her three messy and lazy children. “If you have children you know whereof I speak,” she said aiming the water spray at my nose.

  The grand finale consisted of a quick brushing with some cement like concoction, an even quicker flossing and a final attempt to drown me with the spray. The she announced that Dr. Jorgenson would be with me shortly.

  I lay back in the chair and closing my eyes, I tried to plan out my approach to Dr. Jorgenson. I must have dozed off when I heard, “Isadora Greene?”

  I opened my eyes and saw what could be classified as a perfect example of the male species. “Oh, Dr. Jorgenson,” I attempted to sit up as I wiped the dribble off my chin. “I didn’t expect you to be so young. And good-looking.”

  “You were sleeping so soundly, I hated to wake you,” he said with a laugh, displaying the most perfect, blazingly white teeth I had seen this side of Clark Gable.

  “Was I snoring?”

  He smiled again. “Open wide,” he said politely ignoring my question which meant I probably was.

  I shut my eyes, breathed in his aftershave and opened wide. As he probed the inside of my mouth I had to resist the urge to suck on his fingers.

  “I’d say, Isadora, you’re in good shape,” he finally announced as he adjusted my chair to an upright position.

  “Please, call me Izzy and that’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time. I’ll have to thank that person in my writing class who recommended you.”

  He flashed his pearly whites at me. “Oh, and who was that?”

  “I can’t remember.” I paused, pretending to search my brain. “Oh, I remember now. It was Sondra.” I watched him closely for his reaction.

  “Sondra?”

  “Sondra Sockerman. Tall, sexy. Blond hair. She has a brother. Possibly you knew her brother? He was quite a bit older.”

  “Sorry, I don’t remember anyone with that name but of course I see so many people in my practice.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I nodded. “Come to think of it, I don’t think she was a patient of yours. I think she mentioned she knew you back in college. Sondra Sockerman was her professional name. I can’t remember her given name.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name but keep up the good work. You’re doing a fine job of cleaning your teeth,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “However, I suggest you make an appointment for full mouth x-rays just to be sure everything’s okay.”

  “Right,” I nodded.

  I got in my car and drove off. I was almost home when I realized sadly that the expensive dental appointment had left me no closer to identifying Sondra’s brother. Nor had it left me with the usual post teeth-cleaning goody bag––which was too bad as I was running low on floss.

  Despite Flo’s dire warning I decided to keep my date with Merv that evening. If I played my cards right and managed to keep my nerves in check, I might even get him to reveal if he was Sondra’s brother.

  I spent much of the afternoon trying on various outfits. I couldn’t believe I wanted to look good for a possible killer. I mean if Merv was a killer, my time would be better spent deciding which knife to take along for protection, rather than which shoes looked right. In any case I’d have to go about the evening with care and not let him know I suspected him.

  I’d already eliminated almost everything in my closet as being either too dressy, too casual or too fat-looking. I called my fashion maven.

  “You’re calling to ask how to dress for a date with a killer?” Then in true Flo form, she added, “Something low cut and sexy.”

  She was right. A good defense is a good offense. Which in this case meant looking sexy and acting innocent.

  Chapter 36

  “You look very sexy tonight,” Merv said as I got into his car.

  I should hope so. I’d followed Flo’s advice and picked out a black lace blouse that gave seductive hints of my new hot pink bra underneath. A tight––unfortunately very tight––black skirt and high heels supplied the usual discomfort. But I figured it was all worth it when I saw how Merv’s eyes lit up.

  I was clearly not myself as we drove to the restaurant. Despite my best efforts to pretend it was business as usual, I knew Merv was picking up on my anxiety. Thankfully though, it was a short drive.

  Once we were seated I busied myself studying the items on the menu and the astronomical prices. It was so unlike Merv to take me to such an expensive restaurant unless it was for a special occasion. I couldn’t think of what the special occasion could be unless he was fattening me up for the kill.

  As I busied myself cutting into my steak, trying not to show how rattled I felt, I sensed without looking, that Merv was watching me over the top of his martini glass. “You’re unusually quiet this evening, Izzy. Something wrong?”

  “Of course not,” I smiled.

  “I can tell something’s bothering you.”

  This was as good a time as any to put my plan into action. “I was thinking about my sister, Eudora. She’s planning to come for a visit.” It was a white lie but in a good cause. “I’m sure she and I will spend all our time squabbling. You know how sisters are.”

  “Not really. I don’t have one.”

  “Is that so? No sister?” If that was true I could eliminate Merv as
a suspect. On the other hand, what if he wasn’t telling the truth? “You sure you don’t have a sister?”

  He gave me a curious look. “Don’t you think I’d know if I had one? It so happens, I have an older brother, Marty.”

  “Merv and Marty, very alliterative.”

  “Izzy, what’s gotten into you?” He reached across the table and placed his hands over mine which prevented me from my cutting into my steak. “I’ve never seen you so tense.”

  “Really?” I asked. I studied his hands and wrists carefully for any sign of fresh scratch marks, which he might have gotten when trying to poison Sherlock. I didn’t see any. However he was wearing a long sleeve shirt. “It’s probably that I haven’t had much to eat today,” I said. I was hoping he’d take the hint, and let go of my hands so I could get back to my steak before it got cold.

  “Look Izzy, I know just how to get you to relax. After dinner how about we go back to your place and restart our relationship in grand style and stop all this pussyfooting around.”

  I looked Merv over and thought about giving him a second chance. He never looked better. Or sexier. Could it be Merv was actually working out?

  After all he didn’t have a sister and I didn’t see any fresh scratch marks on his hands or wrists, so the odds were that he hadn’t broken into my condo. Maybe I should give him the benefit of a doubt. Give him the opportunity to set things right with me. Besides I looked smashing. My outfit was pure femme fatale and it was a shame to let it go to waste.

  I was about to agree when Flo’s warning popped into my head. Whatever you do, promise you won’t let him into your condo. You are not to be alone with him. Understand?

  I’d given Flo my word.

  “Speaking of pussyfooting around,” I said, “my cat will be happy to…”