Murder at Veronica's Diner

by J. D. Griffo

  “I guess it’s the curse of the Irish, Father,” Owen said. “To go to a priest before a doctor.”

  “Salva l’anima davanti al corpo,” Sal replied.

  Silently Alberta agreed with Sal that it was more important to save the soul before the body.

  “Like I’ve told you before, and I think your doctors agree with me, your migraines are the result of too much stress,” Sal added.

  “You may be right,” Owen said. “The Tranqclockery doesn’t get much business anymore, so keeping the shop financially solvent is a daunting exercise.”

  “Isn’t most of your income derived from private collectors?” Sal asked.

  “Yes, very demanding, impatient private collectors,” Owen replied. “They expect to have what they want, when they want it, and not a moment later. Let us not forget that I also have to contend with my bosses.”

  “Third Wheel, Inc.?” Sal asked.

  “One wheel is worse than the other,” Owen said. “Greedy, duplicitous, untrustworthy, and after all these years still treating me like a hired hand instead of a vital piece of the enterprise.”

  “Not everyone has as forgiving a boss as I do,” Sal joked. When the response from Owen was silence, Sal apologized. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to make light of your situation.”

  “That’s alright, I should apologize. I’m taking up your time with my petty problems when there are sick people who need your attention, like Sloan,” Owen said. “I do hope he recovers soon.”

  Alberta felt violated when she heard Owen mention Sloan’s name. How dare he bring up Sloan’s condition and use it as some kind of comparison to his own predicament? He shouldn’t even be allowed to bring it up in conversation. It was because of whatever illegal scheme he had going on with Veronica and Umberto that Sloan was in the dire straits he was in.

  “Sloan’s prognosis is good,” Sal said. “He’s had what is considered a setback, but the doctors look at it as necessary intervention. Life really can be viewed from more than one angle.”

  “That’s reassuring,” Owen said. “Maybe by the time I’m back he’ll be fully recovered.”

  “Where are you going?” Sal asked.

  “To Texas to heed the bosses’ call,” Owen replied.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Owen said.

  “Is this a wise move on your part?” Sal asked.

  “Perhaps not, but when Third Wheel requests your attendance at a business powwow, you drop everything to comply,” Owen explained. “My private plane is gassed up and ready to leave tomorrow morning, nine a.m. sharp.”

  “You still have your plane even though you’re having financial hardships?” Sal asked. “Trust me, I understand the need for luxury, but why don’t you sell it?”

  “Bite your tongue, Father,” Owen reprimanded. “I will not throw the baby out with the bathwater simply because I’m going through a bit of a slump.”

  “You’re also going through a bit of a medical crisis. How are you going to fly your plane if you could go blind in mid-flight?” Sal asked.

  “Thank you for your concern, but I’ve hired a pilot,” Owen confirmed. “And Veronica is going with me.”

  “The two of you? Alone on a plane?” Sal asked. “I thought you said she hasn’t been acting very neighborly lately.”

  “You are correct, but the truth is we’ve never been very close other than geographically, and I’m sure she’s been less friendly than usual because of the tragedies that have occurred on her premises, which is completely understandable,” Owen said. “I have an idea. Why don’t you join us? I could use a buffer if the tension gets too thick.”

  “Owen, I’m a man of the cloth and I don’t give in to superstition, but I have a bad feeling about this trip,” Sal confessed. “I really wish you would take my advice and cancel. I can strongly recommend to your doctor that he admit you. Your bosses can’t expect you to check yourself out of a hospital just for some meeting.”

  “Thank you, Father,” Owen replied. His voice sounded different to Alberta, pared down and genuine. “I appreciate your concern more than you could ever know. You really are the only friend I have. However, this trip is essential and serves a dual purpose. I’m meeting a new client to hand deliver a very expensive grandfather clock to him. He’s paying extra for it to be hand delivered, so not only would I lose the respect of my bosses if I cancelled, I’d lose a lot of money.”

  Laughing derisively, Sal replied, “Business always gets in the way of salvation, doesn’t it?”

  Sal led Owen in prayer for a few moments and Alberta, with little else to do, prayed along. However, her heart almost stopped beating for a few seconds when she heard Sal ask Owen if he would like Sal to hear his confession. Her heart didn’t start beating again until she heard Owen decline the offer.

  “I should be going now, Father,” Owen said. “I need to make sure that grandfather clock is packaged correctly. It’s so large, I ordered a few crates in different sizes so I have one that fits properly.”

  “Travel safe, Owen.”

  “Cheers.”

  After the front door closed, Alberta heard Father Sal return the kneeling bench to its upright position. She began to relax her legs, but made sure they didn’t drop below the curtain so she wouldn’t be exposed. She needn’t have wasted any time thinking she would expose herself, since Father Sal was more than willing to do that for her.

  Whipping the curtain open, Father Sal hovered over Alberta and struck a stern, priestly pose brimming with heavenly disapproval.

  “Oh my God!” Alberta shrieked.

  “Only one of His servants,” Father Sal replied. “What on earth are you doing in there?”

  “How on earth did you know that I was in here?” Alberta asked.

  She was stunned that she had been discovered. Nothing that Sal or Owen said had given her any indication that they knew someone was eavesdropping on their conversation. She hadn’t made a sound, even though she was starting to get a cramp in her leg from sitting in a crouched position for so long. But it wasn’t a sound that gave her away, it was a smell.

  “I can detect Shalimar perfume a mile away,” Sal said. “At first I thought it was the lingering scent of a patient’s wife, but when it didn’t fade and only got stronger, I knew it meant you finally crossed the line of decency and were holding a stakeout in the confessional. What’s next? Hide-and-seek in the tabernacle?”

  “I’d love to say I’d fit in there, but we both know that’s a lie,” Alberta quipped.

  “Alberta Ferrara Scaglione, I’m serious!” Sal shouted. “One thing’s for certain—you are your sister’s sister.”

  “I know you’re upset with me, but understand that you helped me so much, and it’s because of you that I’m going to be able to solve this mystery,” Alberta declared.

  “From what Owen and I discussed?” Father Sal replied. “We didn’t say anything important.”

  “Oh yes, you did,” Alberta corrected. “You were just listening to the conversation from the wrong angle.”

  Alberta was so excited she couldn’t even wait until she got home to call Joyce, Helen, and Jinx, so she sat in her BMW and placed the calls one after the other. Each conversation was short and to the point. She told them to meet her at her house at seven p.m. because they needed to make plans for tomorrow. Joyce and Helen didn’t ask any questions—they heard the power in Alberta’s voice and they knew they would learn everything they needed to know in a few hours. Jinx, however, was filled with too much youthful energy not to bombard her grandmother with requests for more details.

  “Gram, what’s this all about? You sound like you’re going to explode, but, like, in a good way,” Jinx said, sitting at her desk at work.

  “Lovey, I’ll explain all the details later, but tomorrow we’re finally going to be able to reveal to everyone who the murderer is,” Alberta declared.

  “You figured it out?” Jinx exclaimed.

  “Yes, I know
who killed Teri Jo, Dominic, and Inez,” Alberta declared. “And, lovey, you need to brace yourself because you’re not going to believe who it is.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Un voto fatto non può mai essere infranto.

  By the time the women arrived at Alberta’s house, she had a vegetable lasagna warming in the oven, antipasto on the table, and a pitcher of Red Herrings waiting to be poured into four empty glasses. When Jinx, Joyce, and Helen noticed that the glasses were Alberta’s fine crystal given to her by her parents as a wedding present, and not the typical jelly jars she used on a daily basis, they knew this was going to be an important meeting.

  Even Lola sensed this was more than a typical gathering. Instead of lying on the floor in the doorway that led into the living room, where she usually camped out so she could take a nap if the human entertainment grew boring, she was perched on top of the side table next to the doorway so she could have a perfect view of the goings-on.

  Alberta stood in front of her family and smiled. Once again they had done it, they had been confronted with a horrible truth—the murders of innocent people—and together they worked tirelessly to uncover the culprit and the reasons why blood was spilled in their town. They had followed leads and gathered clues and finally Alberta had connected all the dots and solved the mystery. At least she was 99 percent certain she had solved it. She wouldn’t be absolutely, positively sure until she confronted the suspect.

  She wasn’t going to let that infinitesimal possibility of failure dampen her spirits, or make her second-guess her and her family’s achievements. It was a time for celebration for all their hard work. Alberta was the only one who wanted to celebrate, however. The rest of the Ferrara ladies wanted answers.

  “Spill it, Gram! Who’s the murderer?”

  “If I just tell you, you’re not going to believe me,” Alberta said. “What I need you all to do is trust me.”

  “Of course we trust you, Berta,” Joyce said. “But you brought us here to tell us who killed Teri Jo, Dominic, and Inez, so tell us.”

  “I brought you here so we could make plans for tomorrow,” Alberta corrected. “That’s when we’ll know for certain if I’m right.”

  “What’s so special about tomorrow?” Helen asked.

  “Owen and Veronica have been summoned by the bosses of Third Wheel, Inc.,” Alberta started.

  “Giuseppe and Enrico Rizzoli and Shamus MacNamara?” Jinx interrupted.

  “Yes, the three men who run the parent company,” Alberta confirmed. “There’s some kind of business meeting in Texas, and Owen and Veronica are being forced to attend.”

  “Do you think they’re going to Henderson, Texas, where we found Dominic?” Joyce asked.

  “That’s my guess,” Alberta answered. “Tomorrow, when we stow away on Owen’s plane, we’ll know for sure.”

  Slowly, Helen, Joyce, and Jinx drained their glasses of Red Herring, doubtful that they heard Alberta correctly.

  “Gram, I think you’ve lost your mind,” Jinx said.

  “The four of us are never going to be able to hide on that small plane,” Helen added.

  Acting as if she heard every word Alberta said but couldn’t fathom how any of it could be plausible, Lola meowed loudly and rolled onto her back, stretching her body so she resembled a long, black, furry snake.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Lola,” Alberta said. “The same goes for the rest of you. We’re not all going to stow away on the plane, just me and Joyce.”

  “Well, that makes much more sense,” Helen said. “Thank you for clarifying and forgive us for ever doubting you, Oh Grand Poobah.”

  Jinx grabbed the pitcher and refilled their glasses. “No, Aunt Helen, that would be Oh Gram Poobah!”

  “Laugh all you want, but I have a plan,” Alberta said. “And if we all play our parts, it’s going to work.”

  “Berta, how did you find out that Owen and Veronica were going on a trip?” Joyce asked. “None of us heard about it.”

  “I accidentally overheard Father Sal and Owen discussing it at the chapel at the hospital while I was visiting Sloan,” Alberta said.

  “Accidentally?” Jinx asked.

  “How did they not see you?” Joyce asked. “That chapel’s almost as small as the inside of Owen’s plane.”

  “You hid in the confessional, didn’t you?” Helen asked.

  “Gram, you did not!” Jinx squealed.

  “Lovey, I saw an opportunity and I took it,” Alberta confessed, taking the lasagna out of the oven.

  “I have never been more proud of you than I am right now,” Jinx said.

  “Helen, you have more in common with Father Sal than you know,” Alberta said. “He knew I was there the entire time, even though I didn’t make a sound. He didn’t give me away, but after Owen left, he pulled back the curtain and scared me half to death.”

  “How’d he know you were there, Gram?”

  “I bet it was the Shalimar,” Joyce said.

  “Yes, he smelled it!” Alberta exclaimed. “How did you know that?”

  “You lean toward a heavy spray,” Joyce replied.

  “I do?” Alberta exclaimed. “Dio mio! I’m like Aunt Nancy and her Emeraude. You must be able to smell me a mile away.”

  “Just a few feet,” Joyce said. “But I love Shalimar! Every time I’m near you I feel like I’m walking in a garden.”

  “It’s your signature, Gram,” Jinx said. “Don’t ever stop wearing it! Or spraying heavy.”

  “Can you please stop talking about Berta’s perfume and let her tell us about this alleged plan?” Helen barked.

  “Helen’s right,” Alberta said. “Jinx, honey, cut everybody a piece of lasagna and I’ll explain how we’re going to expose what’s been going on in town the past few weeks. God willing, tomorrow it’ll all be over.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Joyce picked up Alberta at seven a.m. and drove them to the Tranqclockery. They were headed to the same destination, but looking at them they appeared to have been given separate dress codes.

  Joyce was decked out in a red collarless car coat, a black silk taffeta dress that was exactly one-and-a-half inches longer than her coat, and red patent leather pumps. Her accessories were equally fashionable. She wore her trademark gold hoop earrings, a pin fastened to her coat in the shape of Salvador Dali’s melting clock, which she chose for the irony, a red silk scarf, and black patent leather driving gloves. Alberta, in contrast, was dressed like she was going for a morning run and was clad in a navy-blue tracksuit and sneakers. And not an ounce of Shalimar.

  Alberta went through her plan from start to finish once again to make sure Joyce hadn’t forgotten anything. They discussed what they would do in case of a snafu or if there was an unexpected glitch, and by the time Joyce pulled into the clock shop’s parking lot, they felt comfortable that they had considered every possible problem that could arise. There was nothing more to say, which was good, because from here on out, Alberta had to remain silent for their plan to work.

  Joyce looked at Alberta and nodded her head, giving her the signal to open her door. They each stood on opposite sides of Joyce’s Mercedes held their door handles, and didn’t close their doors until Joyce once again nodded her head. If anyone was listening, it sounded as if only one person had exited the car, which is exactly what the women wanted.

  They walked across the asphalt and only one set of footsteps could be heard because while Joyce’s pumps clicked loudly each time her feet hit the ground, the extra cushiony soles of Alberta’s sneakers prevented her from making any noise while she walked.

  Before Joyce rang the doorbell, she looked at Alberta and crossed her fingers. If Owen answered the door and wasn’t in the throes of an ocular migraine, they were going to have to switch to plan B, because he would see that Joyce had company. In that case, there was nothing they could do to sway the odds in their favor. They would have to think quick, on their feet.

  When the door opened to reveal Owen wearing h
is dark sunglasses with the thick frames that blocked out light from all sides, they knew they had passed their first hurdle.

  “Good morning, Owen, it’s me, Joyce.”

  “Joyce, what a pleasant surprise,” Owen said.

  “I had a very early appointment to meet with a potential buyer for one of my paintings, and on my way back I thought I’d pop in and see how you’re doing,” Joyce lied.

  “How thoughtful,” Owen said. “Did you make a sale?”

  “What?” Joyce replied.

  Alberta poked Joyce in the shoulder as a way to remind her that Owen’s question was in response to Joyce’s fabricated story.

  “The painting,” Owen said. “Did your potential buyer come through and buy the piece?”

  “Yes, he most certainly did and also too, he commissioned a new piece!” Joyce said, making her lie even more elaborate.

  Joyce saw Alberta’s stern glare and knew she needed to get back on track and get them inside before anyone saw the two of them standing on the front stairs.

  “It’s been a very successful morning so far,” Joyce added. “But I heard from Father Sal that you’re not having much success with your headaches and they’ve become relentless lately. I wanted to see if I could help in any way.”

  Owen stared at Joyce, and she prayed he couldn’t see that her expression was the complete opposite of the calmness of her voice.

  “Isn’t that neighborly of you,” Owen said. “Here I had all but given up on being on the receiving end of acts of kindness. Please come in.”

  As Joyce entered she told Owen she would close the door and held his left hand, forcing him to turn to the right. This allowed Joyce to open the door wide enough so Alberta could enter behind her.

  Once inside, Alberta realized she was going to have to move very slowly because some of the floorboards in the shop were old and squeaky. She hoped that Joyce’s incessant chatter would conceal any noise she might make and Owen would attribute it to the creaks of an old store.