by J. D. Griffo
“Unless it was always his intention to escape by walking out through the diner,” Alberta shared.
“Walk right through the door so everyone could see him?” Vinny asked. “That’s crazy, that’s asking to be caught.”
“Not if he knew the diner was absurdly busy that morning,” Alberta said. “He wouldn’t even be noticed. He would just be another face in the crowd.”
“What’s so odd about seeing a man walk out of a men’s room?” Helen asked.
“Wait a second, ladies,” Vinny said, taking a few steps away from them as if they and their suspicions were contaminated. “You’re suggesting that someone crawled through that window, deliberately shut it behind him, waited for Dominic to enter the men’s room, mistakenly killed Teri Jo, and then just waltzed out the door into the packed diner without anyone seeing him?”
“I think that’s exactly what happened,” Alberta declared. “I’m just not sure if the murderer knew that he killed the wrong person before he left.”
“If he hung around he would’ve found out,” Helen said. “Teri Jo was able to leave the men’s room and stumble out into the diner before she died. If the killer waited, or ordered some takeout, he would’ve seen the whole thing.”
Vinny let out a long breath. “I’m not disagreeing with you completely, but if what you’re saying is true, we’re not dealing with an amateur here, these are not the actions of someone who’s killed for the first time. We’re talking about a professional.”
“Like an assassin?” Joyce asked.
“Exactly,” Vinny replied. “More than likely these were both premeditated murders and not acts of passion.”
Tambra entered the men’s room with some anxious-looking men standing behind her. “Chief, the team would like to examine the body.”
“Of course,” Vinny replied. “Time for us to go and let the professionals do their job.”
As they all shuffled out of the room, Alberta held back, grabbed Jinx’s arm, and whispered in her ear, “I think we know who the other professional is, the one who committed twin homicide.”
“We do?” Jinx replied.
“Of course we do.”
“Well, tell me what I’m supposed to know.”
Alberta took her finger and drew a line down her right cheek. “Oh, lovey, I’m disappointed in you. There’s only one possible person we know who could be an assassin.”
Jinx’s eyes widened and she finally understood what Alberta already knew. Together they spoke the same word. “Scarface.”
CHAPTER 15
Omicidio, omicidio ovunque.
Now that the shock of finding a second body had worn off, the truth of the situation had settled in, and it was devastating.
A brother and sister, twins in fact, were dead within weeks of each other, murdered in exactly the same way. But worse than the vicious acts themselves was the fact that their family wasn’t in mourning. Alberta knew that the Rizzolis didn’t know that Teri Jo, aka Theresa Josefina, had been living in Tranquility and was now dead. She wasn’t sure if Dominic was also an abandoned sheep, cast out by the family for some ridiculous reason, but she was certain that his bond with his relatives was tenuous at best. She had no proof other than the fact that she was the mother of an estranged daughter, and she could sense when she was in the presence of a kindred spirit.
Although she had only met Dominic once, he had been on her property trying to catch her attention a few times, and she could see the sadness in his eyes, the desperate longing to connect. Looking back, she realized the same look was brimming in Teri Jo’s eyes. The look of a lonely woman trying to fill a void in her life, but unsure how to do it. Alberta closed her eyes and said a quick Hail Mary, not just for Teri Jo’s soul, but for her own.
How could she not have seen the woman’s emotional pain that flowed underneath the surface of her perfunctory smile and her cordial, but cursory, diner conversation? The woman had been literally staring her in the face, silently asking to be accepted, to be welcomed, and Alberta hadn’t noticed or perhaps had even ignored the signs.
Thankfully, Helen had recognized Teri Jo’s need to connect with another human being. Then Alberta had a thought that took her breath away: Maybe Helen needed a friend too.
Being Italian, Alberta was always surrounded by people, most of them family members. Not only cousins, aunts, and uncles, but second and third cousins, great aunts and uncles. There were even cousins of relatives by marriage, and then the families of in-laws. Over the years, hundreds of people had hovered around Alberta’s kitchen table when she was a young girl, a wife, and now a widow, so she was truly never alone. There were many moments throughout her life, however, when she was lonely. Luckily, those days seemed to be in the past, and she was so happy with her current life that even when she was sitting on the couch by herself with Lola puttering or napping nearby, her heart was full. She was loved and she loved others. When it came to personal relationships, she was fulfilled, but maybe that wasn’t the case for her sister.
In Catholic school, Alberta was taught that nuns weren’t women. It wasn’t an overt education, not explicit, but nuns were described as Brides of Christ, who vowed to live a life of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Even as a child Alberta knew that such a life was a devotion, a true sacrifice, and not something a woman would enter into lightly, but only after much thought and contemplation. In Alberta’s mind, the woman had to be strong enough to transcend the chains of gender, had to be more of a spiritual servant than a regular person. How else could nuns accept a life saddled with such harsh limitations and a reward only the truly devout could foresee?
Armed with such an interpretation, Alberta always held Helen in the highest regard. For all of her sister’s snarky comments and brusque, no-nonsense attitude, Alberta’s love and admiration for her sister never wavered. Alberta could have had the happiest marriage on earth and reared the most successful, life-loving children in the world, and she still wouldn’t have accomplished what Helen had, which was to devote her life to one specific purpose without ever asking for or wanting anything in return. There was no way Alberta could match that.
But what if Alberta was wrong? What if there was something that Helen wanted and had never received? What if she had been searching for a connection with someone who wasn’t linked to her by blood? What if the only thing Helen wanted was a friend? Could that be one of the reasons Helen suddenly left the convent and quit the only life she had known for forty years? Was the reason as simple as that she no longer wanted to be a nun, but wanted to once again be a woman?
Sitting at her kitchen table, Lola stretched out lazily between a stack of Tupperware yet to be put away and a folded-up skirt that was still waiting to be hemmed, Alberta held her head in her hands and fought back tears and remembered that Helen had said to her that they had to find out who killed Teri Jo, that this would be their most important case. At the time, Alberta didn’t really understand the depth of emotion underneath her sister’s words, but what if the one friend Helen was able to make had been cruelly taken away from her?
Now that Dominic was added to the body count, another overwhelming truth was added to the mystery, in that it was more than likely that Teri Jo was killed mistakenly. She wasn’t the intended victim, she didn’t have to die, she was whisked away from this world and Helen’s orbit erroneously. Her death didn’t have to happen. But it did need to be solved.
Alberta shook off her sadness just in time to greet Helen and Joyce at the door.
“Do you have coffee?” Helen asked as she took off her coat and hung it on the hook over the bench next to the door.
“Also too, some anisette,” Joyce added as she did the same with hers.
Alberta smiled at the women and the dichotomy they represented. Glancing at the hutch where their coats hung, Alberta was amused by the tangible representation of their differences. Helen’s simple black wool overcoat hung next to Joyce’s bright yellow mohair cape. Exact opposites, but somehow the perfect pair
.
It was a great relief for Alberta to be reminded that Helen and Joyce had become friends and not just sisters-in-law, but she still knew that Helen’s heart ached for the loss of Teri Jo. And for that coffee.
“Berta!” Helen snapped. “I need coffee.”
“Smetti di urlare per il caffè!” Alberta yelled, pointing at the kitchen counter. “It’s right there in the pot. And the anisette’s in the cabinet over the fridge, where it always is.”
She watched the two obviously thirsty women maneuver themselves expertly throughout her kitchen until they were sitting at the table, their hands embracing cups of coffee spiked with anisette. Then it dawned on her that she had no idea why they had come over.
“Is this a social visit?” Alberta asked. “Or has there been a break in the case?”
She grabbed Lola, who hadn’t moved from the table, and placed her on the floor. Unhappy with being moved and not allowed to maintain her position as the center of attention, Lola let out a long, scratchy meow that Alberta dismissed with a wave of her hand and an Italian expletive that Lola understood meant that she should leave the room without further delay, which is what she did.
“Now that we’re alone, tell me what’s going on,” Alberta demanded.
“I think you got it backwards, sister,” Helen said. “You need to fill us in on your conversation with Vinny.”
Raising her hands to the sky and throwing her head back, Alberta couldn’t believe she had forgotten to fill them in on such pertinent information.
“Ah Madon! I’m sorry, I don’t know where my head is,” Alberta said.
“It’s on top of your shoulders, where it usually is,” Joyce replied, sipping her alcohol-infused coffee. “Now tell us what Vinny said.”
“He agreed,” Alberta answered.
After they all had left the men’s room at Veronica’s Diner so the crime scene investigators could do their job to collect blood samples and DNA evidence, scour the room for finger- and footprints, take detailed information on how the knife entered Dominic’s body as well as the knife itself, and, of course, prep the body for its trip to the morgue, Alberta spoke to Vinny privately, old friend to old friend.
“Vin, you have to hold off on announcing Dominic’s murder to the public,” Alberta had said. “We’re closing in on the murderer.”
There was so much ruckus and commotion all around them, she didn’t need to whisper, but she did in case anyone was eavesdropping.
“You think you know who did this?” Vinny asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.
“I think so, but we don’t know his name, just that he has a big scar on his face,” Alberta replied.
“That doesn’t sound like anybody in Tranquility,” Vinny confirmed.
“We think it’s an outside job,” Alberta said. “Because Dominic wasn’t from Tranquility.”
“Don’t say his name again,” Vinny said.
“Dominic?” Alberta replied. “Why?”
“Because if you keep telling me who he is, I won’t be able to feign ignorance about the corpse’s identity,” Vinny explained.
Alberta understood until she didn’t.
“But we already told you he was Teri Jo’s twin,” Alberta said. “And you told Veronica.”
“I can handle Veronica. She wants to keep this as quiet as possible, but no one else can find out,” Vinny ordered. “I’ll say that we found a John Doe sprawled out in the bathroom with no identification on him.”
“We won’t breathe a word of it,” Alberta swore.
“Then no one will find out,” Vinny said. “Unless, of course, the DNA tests produce specific results giving me a name, rank, and serial number, so to speak, of the deceased. Then I’ll have no choice but to go public.”
Alberta stared at her friend for a moment, unsure if she had heard him correctly. She felt like Jinx often did when Alberta spoke in her native tongue. Looking at Vinny, her face a mask of confusion, she translated.
“This means you’re going to keep quiet?”
“For as long as I possibly can, Alfie,” Vinny replied. “But you and the rest of your senior Scooby gang better work fast.”
After Alberta conveyed her conversation to Helen and Joyce, they both raised their coffee cups in appreciation.
“Well done, Berta,” Helen said. “Even if that cheeky chief of police called us seniors.”
“It’s kind of what we are, Helen,” Joyce reminded her.
“Speak for yourself,” Helen said. “My hair might be a little silver, but I’m still in my golden years.”
“Your hair is completely gray!” Alberta shouted. “You’re old, we all are. But before we get any older, we have to find out who this Scarface is. I just know that he’s our killer.”
“You’re really sure, Berta?” Joyce asked. “You’ve never been this certain on a case before.”
Alberta avoided catching Helen’s eye when she replied, “I guess this case is different.”
Doling out slices of Entenmann’s strawberry Danish, Alberta informed the women that tomorrow they should meet with Jinx to strategize on how to uncover Scarface’s identity. The frightening part was that they weren’t sure it was such a wise thing to do. If he’d already killed twice, both times in daylight with witnesses a few feet away, he was not only determined, he was ruthless.
“I hate to say it, ladies,” Alberta declared. “But we may have finally met our match.”
* * *
Sitting across the table from Freddy at Mama Bella’s Café, a favorite Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Tranquility, Jinx was delighted that she had found her match. Despite trying to ignore her feelings and tell herself that she was only having fun with Freddy, she was falling in love with him. She had been in love before, or at least felt like she had been, but this was different. The feelings she had for Freddy were deeper, more grounded, and Jinx knew they were the kind of emotions a lifelong commitment could be built upon. For now, however, she just wanted to savor her eggplant rollatini.
“If you repeat what I’m about to say, I swear I will use what I’ve learned about how to almost get away with murdering people, and kill you,” Jinx announced.
“You always say the sweetest things, Jinx,” Freddy replied. “What are you going to say that might put me six feet under?”
“This eggplant is better than anything my grandmother has ever made.”
Freddy’s eyes widened and were almost as big as his floppy ears.
“Dude!” Freddy gasped. “That’s like blasphemous.”
Ignoring the fact that she had repeatedly asked her boyfriend to stop calling her dude, and he repeatedly ignored her request, she had no choice but to agree with him. “I know! Which is why you must take a vow of silence. Girlfriend to boyfriend.”
Smiling devilishly, Freddy replied, “If you make a vow to always be my girlfriend.”
It was Jinx’s turn to smile, although when the long-term ramifications of Freddy’s sly comment were fully understood, her smile turned into a blush. “I think that can be arranged.”
What was a bit more difficult to arrange was an uninterrupted date night. Just as Jinx took her last delicious bite of eggplant, her cell phone rang. She tried to fight the urge to ignore the call, but lost.
“Sorry, it’s work,” Jinx said, looking at her phone. “Wyck, what’s up?”
“Bingo, Jinxie! There’s been another murder.”
Jinx’s boss’s voice was far too gleeful to be conveying such dire news. Lately, however, his exuberance over the rising mortality rate among Tranquility citizens had risen to new heights. As unacceptable as his delight was, Jinx had accepted his tone to be the new normal. She also couldn’t berate Wyck too much, because she had discovered that whenever she heard of another murder she shared his excitement.
The loss of life under violent circumstances was nothing to be celebrated, but Jinx was ambitious and determined. And every time a corpse was discovered, it gave her a chance to earn her stripes as
an investigative journalist. Morally speaking, she was aware she was working in the shadows. But she also knew that if she continued to be aware of the shadows, she would never fully succumb to the darkness.
“Are you serious, Wyck?” Jinx asked.
“As serious as a heart attack! Or in this case a homicide!” he shouted in reply. “I tell ya, Jinx, since your grandmother came to town, Tranquility has been revitalized. People are talking about us, readership is through the roof! I know murder is wrong, but God bless your grandma, she’s single-handedly breathed new life into The Herald with all this death she’s brought with her.”
Jinx opened her mouth to argue with Wyck, but realized that it would be pointless. She knew from experience that when he got into such a feverish, almost manic state, there was no reasoning with him. She even knew without having to see his face that his ears were beet red, the same color as his hair, which always happened when he got excited. The only recourse was to let him continue talking until the fire dissipated.
“A Jane Doe was found in Tranquility Cemetery,” he conveyed. “How’s that for symbolism? She’s being transported to the morgue. Get there now and you’ll have the first chance to question the police.”
With one look at Freddy’s resigned expression, she knew that he knew that their dinner had been cut short.
“I’m on my way, Wyck,” Jinx replied.
“That’s my girl!” Wyck shouted. “I’m texting you some photos of the body. They border on grisly, so I hope you’re not eating.”
“Not anymore,” Jinx replied, not entirely sure she could handle seeing whatever photos Wyck was going to send her.
“I just sent the pictures of dead Jane,” Wyck announced. “Get yourself to the morgue and I want five hundred words to post online by midnight.”
Wyck disconnected the call before Jinx could reply, but since she had never been late on a deadline before, there was no need for her to reassure her boss that she would maintain her status quo. When she looked at the photo Wyck texted her, she was unable to maintain any normal expression.
“Oh my God!”