Yesterday's Body

by Norma Huss

  “Well, of course, I love cats,” she said with the false smile of a born salesman, “but the management doesn’t allow animals on the premises.”

  At least she left me alone to wander, poking and inspecting everything, although I was sure she watched so I wouldn’t steal the store. Actually, I was on automatic pilot, lifting things before unseeing eyes as I reviewed my situation.

  Mr. Talbit was in jail. I hoped. The police had evidently found his illegal stash. He’d tried to kill me. But with an axe. And obviously, without a speck of planning.

  If he killed the others, why the change in method?

  Chapter 43

  As Keisha and I walked the poorly lit streets toward her apartment, she told me all about wonderful Officer Rivlin. They’d had a movie date, and he’d held her hand. He’d kissed her at her door, then left. He was a smoothie, no doubt about it. After she’d told me all about Officer Rivlin, she asked where I was going.

  “My friend Mel lives five blocks past your apartment.”

  “Your boyfriend?” she asked, all excited.

  “No, just a good friend.”

  She hesitated, then asked, disbelief coloring her words, “Can a woman and a man really be friends? I mean, without romance?”

  “Yes,” was the answer I gave her. It could even have been true.

  “What’s it like, having a man friend?”

  “What’s it like having a woman friend?”

  “Oh. I don’t know. I don’t have a friend. Well, not a good one. In school it was like, competition. Who’s cutest? Who dates the nicest boy?”

  I nodded, which she may not have noticed since we were between street lights. Actually, my experience had been somewhat different.

  “Except for you. We’re woman friends,” she said with an air of discovery.

  Yes, I counted Keisha as a friend. I certainly couldn’t say that about anyone at Abbott Computing Services. Had that ever been an office where friendships flourished? It certainly wasn’t now. But were all three women friendly before Francine stole Asher from Vanessa?

  “My cousin and I are friends,” Keisha added.

  “Mel and I are friends like that.”

  “Then he should come pick you up at my apartment,” she said fiercely. “I don’t care if you’re a street person like they say. There were all those murders and you walked me home and now you’ll have to walk all that way by yourself.”

  “Keisha, nobody’s going to attack an old woman,” I said, which was not at all true. “Besides, I know karate.”

  “You do?”

  “I could flatten you, or somebody twice your size.” An exaggeration, of course. Other than the lucky kick and overcoming a drunk once, I’d never actually gone on the offensive. But I wanted to allay Keisha’s fears. I didn’t succeed, for when we reached her house she wanted me to come inside, call Mel, and tell him to pick me up. I wouldn’t. She wanted me to wait until Officer Rivlin came so he could drive me there. I wouldn’t do that, either, but she kept nagging until he did arrive.

  Officer Rivlin was flabbergasted to see me, but at least he sided with me. “I know Jo,” he said. “She’ll be okay.”

  Keisha kept insisting and Rivlin came up with the compromise. Keisha would call Mel to tell him I was on the way. She went inside. Officer Rivlin politely said, “So how’s it going, Jo?” I went for shock. “I set myself up at Maizie’s Diner. Called three suspects and told them I knew something they’d like to know and invited them to dinner to discuss it.”

  “That wasn’t particularly wise.”

  I shrugged. “No one showed up.”

  “You do need a keeper. Wait here. I’ll check on the call to your friend,” Officer Rivlin said. He went inside. I didn’t wait. I left, knowing full well Mel wouldn’t come for me. I’d ticked him off for sure, turning down his lobster. In fact, he may have filled my room. Or, he might still be at one of his AA meetings.

  I’d walked two blocks when I realized a car was following me. That was the only way to describe it. Cars zip past, headed for their destination, as fast, or faster, than the law allows. They don’t move as slowly as walkers. I didn’t realize how worried I was until it speeded up and disappeared around the corner.

  “That was peculiar,” I told Clyde. He waved his tail in total agreement. “Probably someone looking at street numbers.” That must have been it, even though most of them were dark and quite impossible to see.

  Was that why Clyde was so active? He preferred the light? He chased his tail, pranced, leaped at imaginary mice, and explored dark corners. Surprising how aware I was of an imaginary cat’s every movement. There were two ways to look at that phenomenon. Either I had reached an extreme level of psychic acceptance, or I had sunk so deeply into my bag lady persona, I’d gone over the edge.

  “A lot they know,” I said, referring to anyone who might question my sanity. “I have an active and fruitful imagination.”

  “Yow!”

  Clyde jumped at me. I dodged in alarm. And felt a jerk as something struck my backpack.

  “God-damn,” someone muttered.

  Quickly I turned. There was a third entity with us. One with a real voice.

  And a weapon.

  A weapon that crashed toward my head.

  Chapter 44

  A woman, silhouetted in the lamplight, swung a monster weapon at frightening speed.

  I was a gone goose. I shrieked, jumped back. The thing squealed past my head.

  Metal? Red metal?

  I screamed. “Stop!” Didn’t help. I grabbed my backpack off my shoulder and threw it in her direction. I backpedaled. I took a karate stance and roared. “Hyah!”

  “Stand still, you fool.”

  “Barbara?” I gasped. I yelled, “Fire! Fire!” Didn’t that work better than “Help?” Barb had murder in mind.

  “Give it a rest. Nobody cares a damn about you.”

  She was crazy. She’d gone mad.

  Barb charged again, swinging her weapon. I jerked back just in time. I circled in the dark, out of her reach. She darted. I dodged.

  Her weapon was one of those Clubs that lock auto steering wheels. Heavy, solid, metal.

  She cackled as she pivoted to face me. Creepy, maniacal laughter.

  “Barb, you? You’re the killer?” I asked with dreadful certainty.

  My question prompted another burst of laughter. “You thought it was Mr. Talbit? You’re wrong—dead wrong.” She danced around me. “Too bad they already picked him up. He could take credit for you.”

  Cat and mouse. Too much fun for the cat to come in for the kill. I took a step, drew her back, toward Keisha’s house. It was out of sight, three blocks away. Rivlin told me to wait. Would he follow me? How long could the game go on?

  Barb charged again, suddenly and fast, swinging her Club. I sidestepped, and whacked her arm sharply.

  “Aahh,” she yelled, dropping her arm, but not the Club. I backed quickly. I couldn’t out-muscle her, even with karate.

  She was the killer.

  Play for time, I thought. Say anything. “You didn’t do it. I don’t believe it.” Yes, that was the way to go. She’d want to brag, and she would. To her, I was already dead.

  “Oh, you had part of it right.” She crowed. She cackled and pranced— gleefully. “Sure, there were files destroyed and checks coming in. The company never got ’em. Surprise, surprise, Mr. Talbit had other fish to fry.”

  I kept out of her reach. “Then Vanessa is in this too?”

  “That idiot? She actually believed your sister called. Oh, yeah. The wimp sees all, knows all, runs all. Not.”

  But the wimp did share my call with the killing machine.

  Barb’s hysterical laugh chilled my spine. The brief lull was over. She charged again. I kicked and she screamed. Real pain this time, not wounded pride. I’d connected at crotch level. She recovered fast. Madder than hell. Swung her club. I dodged, one way—another, then any way. I gulped air to fill my bursting lungs.

 
; What could I do? My backpack. It was on the curb where I’d thrown it. Her eyes were on me. Did she see it? I worked her around till it was behind her. When she was close enough to smell, I darted in and pushed. She fell, twisting cat-like, landing on all fours. But she still had her club.

  I ran, but not far enough. I had to stay alive. If she killed me, she’d never be caught. “You didn’t kill three people. Not with that Club,” I yelled. “Who killed Francine?”

  “Piece of cake. A little tap with one of her fancy dishes and by the time I got the plastic over that blackmailing bitch’s face, it was all over.”

  “For Lacy, you used the Club.”

  “Should have known she wasn’t you.”

  “And Asher too?”

  She laughed again. “Baseball bat. So he died hard. So what?”

  That bit of conversation was another rest break, because she came at me again. I yelled and backed up. She came at me faster than I could move. I sidestepped the next swing, but she was too close. I kicked her knee, putting her off balance.

  Suddenly, her Club floated away. She’d lost it? Had it slipped? She turned to retrieve the Club and I saw my chance to attack.

  I fought for my life. I whipped off flat blows, with both hands, repeatedly, not knowing or caring if they were lethal strikes.

  She was down on her face. I straddled her. Then I heard them.

  “Way to go, Jo!”

  “Hey, hey!”

  It was... It was Ears and Orin. My backup. They had the Club. And Barb was under me, yelling, “Get off, you cow.”

  “You waited long enough!” I muttered.

  “You’re welcome,” Orin said through his giggles. “One God damn friggin’ blow for us street bums.”

  I’d won. I started to laugh, but Barb wasn’t through. She lurched, reached around and grabbed my arm. I slid, nearly off. Too close for karate. I doubled my fist and Orin dived for her. We both hit her at the same time.

  “Go get Officer Rivlin,” I yelled. They’d know where he was, since they’d followed me. They’d followed me. They ate my supper and didn’t disappear. They stayed.

  Barb reached over her head, grabbed my hair, and pulled. I dived my head into hers, then yanked my hair from her hand. Barb rolled. I rolled with her till I was on top again. Maybe karate was better than mega-muscles. She kicked the ground.

  They’d followed me. All the way. While I hung around the gift shop. While I walked Keisha home. They’d followed me. I had to say it.

  “Thanks, guys.”

  Ears was waiting for that. He ducked his head in acknowledgment and ran to find Officer Rivlin. Barb kicked again, raised her rear, and nearly upset me.

  “Look at the babe,” Orin said, and plopped down on her butt, right behind me. He bounced and yelled, “Kal-eido-scope!”

  “Oof,” was Barb’s comment, so Orin bounced some more.

  “Kal-ei-do-scope,” he repeated. “Kal-ei-do-scope, all the damn way.”

  “You said it. Kaleidoscope it is.” Orin’s word of the day. “Best word I ever heard.”

  Barb didn’t agree. She had a few choice words of her own. Definitely not lady-like words. I didn’t care. I gave her a couple of bumps myself. Except for watching out for wild arms and legs, Orin and I ignored her and her foul language. We giggled and yelled, “Kaleidoscope,” until we couldn’t hear a word she said. We kept her under control until Officer Rivlin arrived.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked. “Ears tells me she’s a killer.”

  “You bet your God damn night stick,” Orin said. He giggled again. “That babe, she don’t know we listen like you don’t believe.”

  I really wanted to tell Orin to watch his mouth, but I didn’t. “I guess inviting my suspects for dinner paid off.” I didn’t admit she wasn’t an invited guest. Let Officer Rivlin think I’d known what I was doing.

  ~ ~

  Eventually, ten cops hovered around. They read Barbara her rights and took her away. They offered to put me, Ears, and Orin up in a hotel. While the guys negotiated add-ons, I disappeared.

  The police had their killer, the guys had a night on the city, but I’d come out way ahead. I had my life.

  Chapter 45

  I disappeared from the street, but not from the panic that engulfed me. I kept moving. Auto pilot, I guess. I dragged myself as far as Mel’s front step. Crazy. He was through with me. As I turned to leave, Mel yanked his door open.

  “Jo, who do you think you are? Some immortal god? I’ve been looking all over for you. Where were you?”

  “Ah...”

  “You feed a bunch of bums to watch your back, and then you disappear. Robin Hood said you were crazy. Then this Keisha calls me. Tells me to come get you, then says you’re on the way.”

  “Yeah. I was.”

  “Then I hear it on the police radio. ‘Civilian captured a suspect.’ That was you, I assume.”

  Suddenly, I had to sit. I collapsed on the step. “You’re jumping to conclusions.” Of course, he’d jumped to the right one.

  “You look like hell. Come on inside,” he said in a rough voice I’d never heard before. It wasn’t until he’d settled me in his favorite recliner, brought a cup of hot coffee just the way I like it, and pulled up the Ottoman to sit beside me that he asked, “Who was the suspect?”

  I took another sip and flexed my shoulders. “Barbara Girod. The killer.”

  He moved behind me, rubbed my shoulders. “Francine’s co-worker? That Barbara?”

  “Um, that feels good.” I let my head roll with the motion.

  “I’ve got to tell you, the TV doesn’t agree. They say it’s Mr. Talbit. They had a reporter at Zip’s bedside when he came to and started singing. He’s eager to testify against Mr. Talbit. Yes sir, Zip is the innocent victim. Mr. Talbit gave him that gold ring they found in his pocket. Mrs. Hemingway was the go-between who was supposed to give him a lot more jewelry.” Mel moved back to his seat in front of me. “Didn’t happen, which is why the talking heads on TV figure Mr. Talbit did her in. Purely a legitimate deal, Zip says. Nobody believes that. What he wants is a ticket away from the Miami gang who tried to kill him.”

  I rubbed my temples, soothing the tension. “That was all on the news? Don’t they usually...”

  “Yeah. Keep everything quiet. Lock up their witnesses, away from the press. The police are ticked. So’s the D.A. But you know reporters. They run with any story.”

  “Too bad they didn’t get the whole story.” Francine had been one busy lady. Involved in a robbery and smuggling, maybe double-crossing her partner, and blackmailing another thief.

  “So what happened? According to Robin Hood, a couple of the guys followed you, like they were supposed to. So, how’d it go down? I can’t believe they’d put themselves out to catch a killer.”

  I wanted nothing so much as to curl in a ball and fade away, but Mel wanted the story. “Ears and Orin did help. They swung the balance in my favor.” I hated to think of it, but I could have been dead.

  “You’re cold,” he said, misreading my involuntary shiver.

  He lit a match to the paper and kindling in his fireplace. He watched it flare, then put larger sticks on top. After they caught fire, he pushed them around with the poker and added logs.

  “Your sister was hitting on me,” Mel said, without preamble. “I guess you know that.”

  I swallowed comments like, “She hits on anything in pants,” and, “She’s not noted for staying power.” Instead, I told him, “Well, you and I are strictly platonic. Old buddies and so on and so on.”

  We left it at that.

  He sat on the second recliner, passed some peanuts and we sat nibbling, toasting our tootsies. “There will be a trial. I guess you’re the main witness.”

  “Not if I can help it,” I said. “With Mr. Talbit, they have the key, the loot, and Zip. They won’t need me.”

  “And the woman? Barbara?”

  “Ears and Orin may have the honors. There’s got to be some pape
r trail of theft.”

  He shook his head. “Doubtful.” He added, “I’d think you’d want the publicity. Sell that book your sister tells me about.”

  “Um.” True. But here had to be a better way.

  The fire flickered. I yawned. Mel said, “Sylvie’s not really my type, anyway.”

  “We know I’m not either.”

  “You like this platonic stuff?”

  “Mel, don’t ruin it.”

  “We sit around, talk a bit, watch TV. Comfortable evening at home. Anybody looking at us would say, ‘There’s an old married couple.’”

  Where was Clyde? Why didn’t he yowl a warning?

  The fire was dying. Mel stirred it, sending sparks flying.

  They hadn’t been introduced, but I said it anyway. “Don’t set Clyde on fire.”

  “What?”

  Mel was confused. He’d never met Clyde. But where was Clyde? On the sofa? Under the chair? Perhaps asleep?

  “Clyde, front and center.” He would surely come. I stood, and with a grand flourish, pointed to a likely spot on the braided rug. “You haven’t met Clyde. He’s quite large for a cat. Yellow, tabby stripes. And so meticulous. He doesn’t shed.”

  But Clyde wasn’t there.

  Where was he? My eyes darted into each corner. My heart raced. My blood thumped in my ears.

  Mel scowled. “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s gone,” I yelled. “Can’t you see anything?” And suddenly, I knew. “My God! Barb killed Clyde.”

  Mel looked at me like I was the crazy one. What did he care?

  I grabbed my bag and coat and ran to the door. “I’ve got to find him.”

  “Hey, what are you doing? Who’s Clyde?” I opened the door. Mel said, “Whatever you’re looking for, can’t it wait till tomorrow, when it’s light?”

  “No. He saved my life.”

  I ran to the street, rubbing moist eyes. That woman killed him. Didn’t Mel understand? Yes, I’d testify against her. Why hadn’t I missed Clyde? One block. Two blocks.Three, till I reached the spot.

  “All because of me,” I said. “Lacy and Asher died because of me. And now Clyde.”