Roses, Wine & Murder: In the City of Steeples

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Roses, Wine & Murder: In the City of Steeples Page 8

by Rose Young


  “Okay I'll do it,” she conceded. “You must know I don't believe he did it.”

  Gratefully, Morrison acknowledged, “I know, I know, but you will be honest with me, if you see or hear anything unusual. You know I have to do this and follow the leads.”

  Roxanne paused, feeling a level of stress on her shoulders she was not accustomed to until recently. Her life was usually uncomplicated, as a wife, gardener and community volunteer.

  “Can you meet me at the Vinho Verde?” the detective asked.

  “Sure, when?”

  “As soon as possible,” he said hopefully.

  “Ahh, okay, I can be there in forty-five minutes. See you about 11:30.”

  Roxanne sat in thought on the rock wall with lavender on either side of her. She ran her hand over the silver-grey leaves and flowers then breathed in the scent. “Hmmm, patience and focus,” she said aloud and sighed. She had learned the aromatherapy of lavender, waited a minute then mumbled, “Hmmph. This is not working!”

  She pondered her dilemma. This feels wrong. She picked up her cell phone and called her husband. “Sam? Dan just asked me to meet him at the Vinho Verde. He found paperwork that makes him think Georgi has a strong motive for Mitch Stockman's murder, and of course I don’t agree.”

  “What? Don't you get involved, Roxanne," counseled Sam.

  “I have to,” she said softly. “I have to help him, protect him. I don't think he did this. Besides he is banged up, the poor fellow. This doesn't make sense. Dan says he inherits the Vinho Verde plus investments in wineries on Long Island. He says Georgi has the biggest motive because Mitch’s wife is already wealthy.”

  “I know what Morrison is trying to do, but I think you have done enough,” Sam urged her. “I'll call him right now, and tell him I don't want you involved."

  “Don’t you dare, I called you for support,” Roxanne countered, finally grasping her mettle. “I have to help Georgi! Look Sam, it doesn't harm me to be there for him. I'm going to do this. I'll call you as soon as I can. Bye." She hung up, not waiting for his response.

  Sam heard the dial tone. "For Pete's sake," he muttered.

  Chapter 16

  Roxanne cleaned herself up, and met Detective Morrison outside the Vinho Verde. She took a deep breath as she followed him inside. "Hello Georgi," Morrison said.

  “Oh, Detective,” Georgi acknowledged him as he continued arranging one of the tables with fresh flowers. The light from the tall multi-paned windows beautifully lit the lofty space of dark wooden rafters. His heels clopped against the heavily worn floors. Roxanne admired the pumpkin pine floors and caught sight of the cast-iron nails deeply set in the aged wide planks that were part of the historic whaling commerce from the years of longshoremen. Georgi and Mitch had brought in sophisticated lighting, flowing drapes, a bar of stainless steel to complement the old world charm of the granite and brick building.

  Georgi’s designer slacks swished as he crossed the room to shake the Detectives’ hand. He gave Roxanne a gentle hug.

  "You're looking much better, Georgi,” Roxanne observed as she glanced at his head.

  “It's the pain pills, a good night’s sleep and some stage makeup from Bruno,” Georgi replied. “Come in, I'm just keeping busy. I don't know what else to do until I hear from Mrs. Stockman." His face became downcast.

  Morrison stood at the tasting table. Roxanne and Georgi joined him. “Well, that's why I'm here," he said with an official tone.

  "Oh?" Georgi's voice rose, his eyes widened and he seemed to be holding his breath. He stared at the detective, waiting for the words that may determine his future and that of the Vinho Verde.

  Trying to settle on where to begin, Morrison hesitated slightly, "Ahh, did Mitch discuss his Last Will and Testament with you, Georgi?"

  “Why no! Why would he?” Georgi asked nervously.

  “Because you are in it,” Morrison revealed.

  “What! That’s not possible, I've only known him two years,” Georgi said in an incredulous tone.

  “It's been confirmed, which means you have a lot to gain from his death,” Morrison probed.

  “That sounds just horrible!” Georgi exclaimed. His hands went to his face, “Whatever do you mean?”

  Roxanne piped in, “Georgi, you didn't know about Mitch putting you in his will?”

  “Why would he leave it to me?” Georgi pointed to himself as his voice rose to a higher pitch.

  Roxanne looked at the detective, as if saying I told you so. But Morrison was just starting.

  “Georgi, you are the sole inheritor of this business. Mitch left it all to you. You have the most to gain. His wife is filthy rich. She didn’t like this business, nor coming to New London.”

  Georgi sat on a barstool, put his face in his hands, and sobbed uncontrollably. Roxanne forcefully whispered to Dan, “That's quite enough, detective! He didn't know about Stockman’s will, so he didn't do it.” She put her arm around Georgi. He leaned on her and sobbed on her shoulder. Roxanne looked up at Morrison, as Georgi's full weight was upon her small frame. She could barely hold him up. Her legs buckled as she shook her head at Morrison and mouthed, ‘Help.’

  “Georgi!” the detective snapped loudly. Georgi straightened up and wiped the tears of confusion and grief from his face. Roxanne handed him some cocktail napkins he patted his face with them and blew his nose with dainty puffs. Morrison’s hand went to his brow and rolled his eyes at the display. Roxanne noticed his impatience.

  Forcefully, Morrison announced, “I must take you to headquarters, Georgi, due to this new information. I will need an official statement from you, and I’d like you to come now.”

  “Am I under arrest?” Georgi wailed. “I can't take this. I think, I think, I’m having a heart attack!” he started gasping for breath. “Uhhh, Uhhhh, I can't breathe,” he wheezed, waving his hands in front of his face which was turning beet red. Roxanne dashed behind the counter for a bag and pulled Georgi down to the floor.

  “Breathe into the bag, Georgi and put your head between your knees,” she ordered as she shot a ‘look-to-kill’ at the detective. Then calmly, she asked, “Can you fetch him a glass of water, detective?”

  “Yes, yes,” Morrison handed it to him. “Here you go, Georgi. Now don't get so upset. This is for routine questioning. You're not under arrest, just calm down.”

  “That's ridiculous,” Georgi muttered, “How can I calm down? You just told me terribly good and terribly bad news. I inherit the business and I have the most to gain from the death of my boss and friend. I'm so confused.” Roxanne sat on the wooden floor with Georgi.

  She attempted to calm him, “It is okay, I'm right here with you, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you if I can. I don't believe you had anything to do with Mitch's death.” She opened her small purse and pulled out some lavender oil. “Here, Georgi, smell this, it will help calm your nerves and focus the mind. It's an old-time remedy for stress.”

  Georgi inhaled the lavender, and cooed “Ohh, that's lovely,” simultaneously he heaved a big sigh. Taking a few more inhalations he exhaled, “Thank you Roxanne, I feel better already.” He squeezed her hand and put his head to hers. She sighed too.

  Morrison shook his head looking down at the duo on the floor. “Look, Georgi, I need a statement from you and I asked Roxanne to come with me since she knows you, I thought it would help. Will you please come to the station?” Morrison tried being more cordial.

  “Only if Roxanne comes with me,” Georgi pleaded like a little child.

  “Fine with me, let's go then,” coaxed Morrison.

  Roxanne looked up at the detective, and asked, “Ahh, detective, how about I drive him down maybe, in a couple hours? We'll have some lunch and then see you.”

  Dan Morrison had his hands on his waist while he thought about it. Maybe a little time will calm this character down. I don't need this kind of meltdown at the station. Resolved, his hands went into the air to make a statement, “Fine, but make sure he shows
up or we’ll have a warrant issued. As far as the department is concerned, he is a major suspect.”

  Catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror, Morrison quickly put his hands in his pockets wondering if Georgi’s drama was rubbing off on him. Agitated he announced, “Okay! I'll see you after lunch.” He turned and left the building.

  Roxanne had other plans and was buying time.

  Chapter 17

  Day 3 – 12:30

  Roxanne helped Georgi off the floor and led him to a chair. Noticing an old phonebook under the service counter, she grabbed it and splashed her hand across the pages looking for a phone listing. “Found it!” she declared. Pulling out her cell phone, she punched in the numbers.

  “Yelloh, Attorney Cornelius Pendergast's office,” sang the voice, "May I help you?”

  “This is Roxanne Samson. Corn, is that you?”

  “Roxy honey, how are ya?”

  “Don't call me that, Corn!” she protested.

  “But you call me Corn and it's fun!” he jested.

  “No, it isn't! I can't stand that nickname.”

  “Okay, all right, what kind of trouble are you in?”

  “I'm not in trouble!” she asserted.

  “But you're calling me, and you never call me. Sam is the only one who calls me in your household. Are you up to something with this murder?”

  “Oh, for gosh sakes, did Sam call you?” she replied, somewhat peeved.

  “Of course, he did. He said he didn't trust you, you have a mind of your own, and for some odd reason he didn't know what you would do next. He asked me to be on the ready. So, I'm on the ready. What do you have for me?” asked the lawyer.

  She groaned, “Arrrgh, everybody always knows what's going on. Geez, how come I can't surprise anyone anymore?” she huffed. “Well, it doesn't matter. I want you to come with Georgi Algarve and me to the police headquarters to talk to Detective Morrison. I want you to be Georgi’s lawyer and advise him, so he doesn't get in any trouble.”

  Silence answered. “Did you hear me?” she asked.

  “Is this a favor to you, Sam, or Georgi?” asked the lawyer.

  “All of us, gosh darn it, Corn. I can't take any more stress and I want your help, yes or no?” she demanded.

  “Yes, yes, I'll help. Let's meet first. Come to my office.”

  “Good! I'm coming now. And Corn, since it’s lunchtime, why don't you have that nice office assistant order some food for us, and we can talk and eat.”

  “Yes Ma'am! I’ll get right on it. See you soon.”

  “Marsha!” he yelled, “Order some food for our new clients,” then hung up the phone.

  Roxanne smiled. Cornelius Pendergast was the best lawyer in New London. From across the room Roxanne assured, “Don't worry Georgi, we've got Corn now.”

  Blinking his red puffy eyes, Georgi asked, “Corn?”

  “You'll see. Come on, let's go have lunch. I’ll drive.”

  “We’re having corn?” he queried.

  Driving from Bank Street to Huntington she passed Union train station, took a left up Federal Street and drove by the police headquarters.

  Georgi noticed, “Isn’t that headquarters building dreadful? All square, cold and mean like Detective Dan Morrison. It figures that’s where we’re going to meet him.”

  Roxanne stayed positive, “Don’t worry. We’ll work it out, Georgi.” She made a quick turn on to Huntington Street, and for Georgi’s sake, made a dramatic presentational wave toward the adjacent buildings, “Behold the Pillar Houses! Cornelius Pendergast’s office is in one of these four prestigious Greek revival buildings, built in 1835. It is still called Whale Oil Row, due to the whale oil industry that funded all their construction.” The pristine white successive buildings had a quadrupled effect of structure, design, and bold columns.

  “Oooh,” Georgi cooed, “I just adore grand architecture. I’m feeling better already. He must be wonderful, if he works here.”

  ***

  Pendergast’s secretary, Marsha escorted them to the board room. On the table she had laid out a small spread, buffet style, including bottled water, iced tea, a fresh spring salad and small triangular sandwiches. A rotund balding man with suspenders stepped into the room.

  “Yelloh, Roxanne!” he said enthusiastically.

  “Corn, I want you to meet Georgi Algarve, the new owner of the Vinho Verde Wine Bar.”

  “Roxanne!” Georgi scolded, “it's a little too soon to say that, don't you think?”

  “No, I don't. It's true, and you need to get used to it. Plus, I think it's wonderful that Mitch thought so highly of you to honor you in this way. It means you deserve it,” she added for good measure.

  Georgi lowered his head to his chest, “I just didn't think of it in that way, being an honor and all …” his voice trailed off and Roxanne wondered.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I think I'm going to cry again,” he whispered.

  “Now you stop that,” she said in his ear. “Corn is here to get to know you, and you can't be carrying on like that, now can you? So, pull yourself together.”

  Georgi breathed in deeply and nodded to her, straightened himself up and put his hand out to shake Corns’. “It's nice to meet you, Sir. Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”

  Cornelius laughed, “Not to worry my boy,” he assured, as he slapped Georgi’s shoulder, startling him. “I cannot resist, when my friend Chief Sam calls. You need help and I’m available.”

  “What?” Georgi looked at Roxanne.

  “It's okay Georgi,” she patted his arm. “Let's sit down and eat, shall we?”

  “Certainly,” said Corn in his notoriously loud voice, “please sit and tell me all you know while we eat.”

  Roxanne and Georgi related the whole ordeal. She began with how she found Mitch in the shrubbery with a poisonous plant stuffed in his mouth. Then how she was mugged at Ocean Beach, after which she saw a gym-suited prowler on her porch. She accompanied Detective Morrison to tell Georgi about Mitch, and that very evening Georgi was beaten in the back parking lot. Today, the detective told Georgi he is the sole inheritor of the Vinho Verde. This made Georgi the prime suspect in the murder, since Mrs. Stockman was already wealthy and not at all interested in the business.

  Corn pitched forward in his conference chair, “Well, that’s quite a sequence of events, isn't it?” He took a long sip of his iced tea and narrowed his eyes.

  “Why were you mugged, Roxanne?” he asked just as she was about to bite into her triangle sandwich.

  “I don't know,” she shrugged and explained becoming animated, “It doesn't make sense, Corn. Whoever did it, grabbed my fanny pack and my license was gone when they retrieved it. Then when I sat in my truck to go home, I could tell someone had been inside it because the seat was moved. And when I drove up to the house with the police behind me, a man was on my porch. He jumped off and ran away.” Roxanne gestured through the whole description. Corn could tell she was wound up.

  “So they must think you found evidence at the murder site that would incriminate the killer,” he offered. “Maybe you know something you don’t know, you know?”

  “I suppose, but I didn’t and I don't. Why did they go to my house?” Her voice crackled with exasperation. “I didn't find anything, see anything, and I don't know anything!” she proclaimed, as her arm went into the air holding the triangle sandwich in hand.

  Distracted, Corn’s eyes moved up her arm to the sandwich, he wondering if she would eat it or throw it. “Okay, okay,” he said reassembling his thoughts, “but why did they beat you up, Georgi?”

  “Well, that's just it,” Georgi replied, riding on Roxanne’s exasperation, “the guy asked if the blonde found anything. After I said no, he knocked me out by smashing my head into the steering wheel.” He put his hand to his head, pointing out the recent injury and bandage.

  “Oh,” Corn said, taking another long sip of tea. In deep thought he furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. “
A businessman like Stockman has plenty of people who would have a motive for his murder. There is more going on here than Georgi inheriting the business,” he surmised.

  Roxanne blurted out, “We have to find out what it is, Corn.” “When we see the detective, we don't want Georgi to be accused, now do we?” Anxiously, Roxanne reached out her hand across the table to Georgi who grasped it tightly. Suddenly, Corn had the movie image of Thelma and Louise cross his mind. He shook his head to delete it.

  “This is a mystery much bigger than the two of you.” Corn waved his sandwich at them. “We need to help Morrison with a list of who else could be involved in Mitch Stockman’s death. I think he is jumping the gun by saying you're his prime suspect. He just needs to talk to a few more people close to the family and the business, and he'll unearth more leads. I also wonder what the forensic team has discovered, and what the medical examiner has to say.” Cornelius now stared ahead considering possible motives of a killer.

  “Georgi, just because you're in Stockman’s will isn't reason enough. Who else was in the room at the wine tasting that evening?” Corn asked.

  “It was a group celebrating a birthday.”

  “Not a likely group of people to want Stockman dead.” Corn responded, “And how about your staff?”

  “They are part-time and thrilled to have a job,” Georgi added, “they’re not very likely either.”

  Cornelius Pendergast yelled, “Marsha!” startling Georgi and Roxanne. Marsha stepped in. “Find out who drew up Mitch Stockman's will, would you? Call around. We want to know when he made it out.” She nodded and left the room.

  He eyed Georgi and asked, “Where were you the night Mitch was murdered?”

  “I was at work until 11 pm, drove home and arrived around 11:15,” Georgi replied.

  “Did you go out after?” shot Cornelius.

  “No, I stayed in the rest of the night,” volleyed Georgi.

 

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