Barcelona Jones - Murder on Broadway

by Chuck Antone, Jr

  Then he said, "Well, if Miss Summers is really that nice of a person, maybe she is your new girlfriend. I'm going to watch the two of you closely when I question her tomorrow. I'll call you some time after lunch and tell you what time the two appointments are. And, Sam, I hear you laughing. Are you pulling my leg? Is there really a new lady in your life?"

  I gave no answer, and after we hung up I went right to bed but couldn't sleep. My thoughts were on the day and how fortunate I was to be in love with Barcelona. And how super-fortunate I was that she was in love with me.

  Chapter 41

  Thursday

  I got up extra early the next day, walked to the office, and stopped on the way for breakfast. I was actually excited to talk to Brenda Summers. I now had a whole new look about her, especially after hearing the positive comments from Barcelona. I was hoping by the time the questions had ended, I too would have found a new friend, and not a murderer.

  Donna hadn't arrived, so while I waited I went through the files of a new client, and then I looked over my notes from the two initial interviews of Mike Larson and Brenda Summers. I kept thinking that maybe I had missed something before. I went over the two interviews in my mind, hoping something would pop into it -- something that I hadn't written down that might help us. But again I got nothing.

  I was thinking that maybe today one of them would slip up and reveal a new clue, when the phone rang. It startled me, I was so deep in thought. It was the Chief. "Hi, Sam, glad you're there. Is this a good time to talk to you?"

  "Yea fine, Chief. What's up?"

  "I hope you don't mind but I made the two appointments for today to meet in your office? I felt the two would be more relaxed there than at my office at the police station. Mr. Larson will be there at one, and Miss Summers at three. How are those times with you?"

  I told him that would be fine with me. He said he would see me around 12:30 in the afternoon for a preliminary discussion -- if that was okay. I said that it was.

  When Donna came in I told her about the meetings, and she asked if she should leave. I said no, it would be all right for her to stay.

  Around 12:15 p.m. there was a gentle knock on my door. I knew it was Donna. She had a special way of knocking that always alerted me that she was coming in.

  "The Chief is here, and I'm going to make a fresh pot of coffee." She came back with pastries she had bought from the bakeshop downstairs.

  The Chief followed close behind. We greeted each other, and again went over our notes together. Then I read his and he read mine, and discovered they were very much the same.

  The Chief said, "Now that we have them pretty much memorized, and they're fresh in our minds, we can both look for some discrepancies while we talk to our two suspects."

  I agreed with the Chief that looking them over just before the questioning was a good idea, even though I had my notes down pat.

  "Okay, we still have a few minutes before Larson comes in, so let's talk about this mysterious girlfriend of yours."

  I was saved by the bell. Before I could say anything, Donna's voice came over the intercom. "Mr. Larson is here for his one o'clock appointment."

  He had arrived fifteen minutes early. I looked over at the Chief and gave him my best little smirky smile. "Please send him in."

  The Chief and I both stood up and welcomed the very charismatic agent, Mike Larson. Before he sat down he went over and poured himself a cup of coffee and took a pastry. "Hope you don't mind, but I didn't have time for lunch."

  "No, not at all." I was remembering his previous visit to the office when he also got his own coffee. His confidence was overflowing and I was again wondering if that was who he truly was -- or was he putting on a show for us? Either way I was thinking that this man was probably a very good agent in making deals for his clients.

  Chapter 42

  Again Mike Larson was dressed meticulously, and even his teeth looked perfect. I wondered if they were real.

  I asked him if and when he had sent the contract to Mr. Long. He said he had sent it but it was returned to him a few days ago. Apparently the wrong address had been put on the envelope. The Chief asked if he still had it. He said no, he'd thrown the contract away, because he'd heard through the grapevine that Charlie Long had signed up with someone else.

  I was wondering how convenient that was. If he could have shown us the envelope, saying "return to sender" because of wrong address, that would have been helpful -- and even maybe have helped to clear Larson a little. But now it still made him our number one suspect.

  The Chief asked Larson if he'd heard about the hit-and-run on Charlie Long. He said he had, as he was at the meeting with Long's new agent, waiting for the decision on who would receive the part. And that was when they were told that he was in the hospital from a hit-and-run.

  I asked, "Where were you last night at the time of the accident?"

  "Like all normal people, I was in bed sleeping."

  "May I ask, were you alone?"

  Larson looked over at the Chief who had asked the question, then turned to look at me. "No I wasn't, but I'm not giving you anybody's name at this time." Then he broke out laughing. "Sorry, gentleman, I couldn't resist it. I was in bed with my wife. You can check with her if you like."

  The Chief said in a grumpy voice, "You can be sure we will do just that."

  In both of our previous conversations with Mike Larson he had never mentioned that he was married. I was thinking that was a little strange, and wondered why. So we weren't certain if it was true or not. I was thinking that maybe Mike Larson was pulling our legs to stall us off for awhile, so he could come up with a better alibi, and then tell us he was joking and had no wife. We also thought that the thing about the wrong address just didn't seem like him. He was too perfect to make a mistake like that. We both agreed it just wasn't his character -- at least not the one he was trying to make us believe he was.

  He left the office, still our prime suspect.

  Chapter 43

  Brenda Summers arrived right on time. Not a minute early or a minute late. The grandfather clock in the outer office had sounded its first bong as she walked in. Donna had been rearranging the pastry counter so the door to my office was open, and we could hear the chimes plainly. This clock was truly a grandfather clock, as it belonged to my dad's father, my grandfather, and had been part of our décor for many years. My daughter Lisbon who now runs the agency calls it the great-grandfather clock.

  Miss Summers walked in looking every inch the Broadway star she was: hat, gloves, shimmering dress and of course, shoes to match.

  She extended her hand to us as if she was the one who was going to do the questioning, as though she expected to be in charge the moment she entered my office. She sat down without being asked, crossed her legs, took out a cigarette holder, put a cigarette into it and waited for one of us to light it for her.

  Neither the Chief nor I smoked, so we had no match. She reached into her purse, pulled out a cigarette lighter and handed it to the Chief.

  He took it with a not-so-happy face and fumbled to light it. While doing that, Miss Summers opened up her purse and put the holder and cigarette back into it.

  The Chief and I looked at each other and then at her. She looked up at us and started to laugh. "I don't smoke either. This is from one of the plays that I won my first Tony for, many years ago. It was about a murder similar to this one.

  "Actually, Barcelona told me to do this. She thought that you, Sam, would get a big kick out of it. She said you had a great sense of humor. I hope I didn't embarrass the two of you. It was just playacting. But I can see by the look on your faces it wasn't such a great idea . . . I'm very sorry."

  We gave no comment and the Chief was not looking happy as he walked over and sat in the chair opposite Miss Summers. I walked over and sat in the chair behind my desk. Both the Chief and I didn't know what to make of the entrance we had just witnessed. I broke the silence. "You really had us fooled. Barcelona has given you a
very good recommendation, telling us you're a very special friend of hers."

  Brenda Summers didn't smile, but looked like she was hoping she could come in again and start all over.

  I was wondering if Barcelona had told her about our relationship. She gave no sign that she knew that soon we were getting engaged. I was also wondering what the Chief thought about all this, considering he was more on the serious side while working on a case. And I didn't blame him. . . . Murder is no fun.

  The Chief broke my thoughts when he asked, "Miss Summers..."

  She interrupted his question. "Please, Chief, call me Brenda." Then looking at me, "You too, Sam."

  The Chief cleared his voice. "If you don't mind, while on this case I'll refer to you as Miss Summers."

  Brenda smiled and nodded as if to say, I understand. She had a look of sadness on her face. I was beginning to feel sorry for her.

  The Chief continued, "Miss Summers, we're wondering about the man you saw on the night of the murder of Anthony Sparks. Can you tell us anything more about him?"

  "No, I'm sorry but I don't think so. I told you just about all I can remember. I've been thinking and going over it again and again in my head, but nothing new pops up. Why, did someone else come forward that saw him and mentioned something I didn't see?"

  "No, nothing like that, Miss Summers. You're the only one so far who's seen him. We do wonder why no one else has come forward -- if there was truly such a man." The Chief's voice had a slight edge to it.

  "So you think I'm lying about this person I saw? I can assure you, gentlemen, I am telling you the truth."

  I asked, "Brenda, tell us again what time it was, and were there many other people around?"

  By now she wasn't happy and got on the defensive side. "I've said all of this before, so if you don't believe me then that's your problem. But I know what I saw. If you want, I'll tell you again."

  We said nothing, and Brenda took our silence as approval for her to continue.

  "I usually arrive about an hour early as most of the cast do. But that evening I went a little earlier, about six-fifteen. As you know, the performance starts at eight. I was thinking about that coming over here. Whoever changed the bullets must have known that the prop man always puts the blanks in the gun about two hours before curtain time. So whoever it was must have been there when I arrived, maybe waiting in some dark corner for the opportunity to change the bullets. Maybe even the mysterious man that I saw."

  She emphasized the word I, paused for a short time, and then continued. "You know, the mysterious man you don't believe in."

  There was no smile on her face, and I was thinking, Maybe you were the one changing things.

  Miss Summers said, "Being that I arrived early, there was just mostly the setup crew preparing for the different scene changes. They're backstage with the equipment. We hardly ever see them. So I guess you could say I arrived an hour and forty-five minutes early. And no, there were not too many others there -- to answer your question, Sam."

  I could tell she was hurt and it revealed another side of her personality . . . a softer side. Even though she was still on my guilty list I was seeing a different side of Brenda Summers, perhaps the side that Barcelona saw and liked. But that still didn't mean she wasn't capable of murder.

  The Chief asked the next question. "So, Miss Summers, what happened after you saw the alleged man?"

  Her voice rose a little higher. "He is not an alleged man." She again paused, then took control of herself. "I went straight to my dressing room, relaxed for about twenty minutes, and then changed my clothes. Soon after that I could hear the other players arriving."

  "Did you think about the person you saw at all during that time?"

  "No, Sam, I did not. I had no idea that there was going to be a murder that night."

  I looked at her and wondered if she was playacting or telling the truth. She had just showed us her acting ability when she made her entrance into my office, and it had been very convincing.

  The Chief stared at her for a few seconds. "Okay, Miss Summers, thanks for coming in. We may want to talk to you again. And if anything comes up, please let us know."

  "I will, Chief. And again I'm so sorry about the way I came into the office. I know this is a serious situation. It's just that Barcelona and I thought it would be fun. It wasn't, so please forgive me."

  "Don't worry about it," I broke in. "You really had us fooled. You're a very good actress. Have you told anyone about the missing teeth? "

  "No, of course not. You asked me not too."

  As Brenda Summers left the office the Chief looked over at me. "How does Barcelona Jones know what kind of sense of humor you have?"

  "Well, as you know, she's my client, and we've gone to places together like the hospital to interview John Ashland, the male lead actor, when he had the allergic reaction to peanuts. We've even had lunch together. Strictly business. I guess my sense of humor just pops up here and there."

  The Chief gave me a sly smile. I was curious about his thoughts, but he asked no questions.

  "You know, Chief, there is someone we haven't talked to yet who might shine some light on the investigation."

  "Who's that, Sam?"

  "The actor who actually pulled the trigger that fatal night."

  "You're right. Sam. Why didn't we think of him before? Do you know his name?"

  "Not offhand, but I do have a program for one of the night performances around here somewhere."

  I fumbled around. I had just seen it that morning while cleaning up my desk. "Oh, here it is. His name is Kim Suzuki."

  "Here's his picture. Just a thumbprint, but I recognize him from the play."

  "I wonder if he knows about the fugu fish and how powerful the poison is. Could he possibly be one of those brave souls that take chances on their lives while eating it? Maybe he knows where one can buy such a fish."

  "I don't know, Chief, but I thought at the beginning of this case that the one who actually pulled the trigger that night couldn't possibly be the murderer."

  "You're right, Sam. Let's call him in."

  Chapter 44

  When I got home there was a message on my answering machine. This was, of course, one of the early tape devices, far different from today's digital models. The message was from Barcelona. She was at the hospital, and Charlie Long's wife had arrived.

  Barcelona said she would be spending the rest of the day with Mrs. Long, and after the play they would both be spending the night at the hospital where arrangements had been made. Barcelona wanted to stay so she could comfort Charlie's wife the best she could, and she'd call me in the morning.

  There was still some leftover dinner from Monday night that Barcelona had prepared, so I warmed it up. It seemed to taste more delicious than the night we ate it. I always did like leftovers. When I was through I stretched out on the couch and promptly fell asleep.

  I was dreaming about calling Barcelona, when I woke up with my phone ringing. I got to it just before the answering machine went on.

  "Hi, Sam, this is Marty." I could always tell if the Chief was calling from his office or at home, or some other place. From the office it was always "Chief," otherwise it was "Marty."

  "Hi, Marty, what's up?"

  "I've fixed an appointment to see Mr. Kim Suzuki tomorrow at my office. I'm checking with you to see when's a good time for you. Is the morning or the afternoon best?"

  "So far, my day is free. I do have a few calls to make but I can make them any time. What's best for Mr. Suzuki?"

  "He said he would prefer morning. He has the play tomorrow night. So how about ten? Does that sound all right for you?"

  "It sounds good to me. Unless you call me, I'll see you at your office at ten."

  Chapter 45

  Friday

  I arrived at the precinct station the same time as Kim Suzuki. In his late twenties, he was very cordial and didn't look like a killer. But not many do. The Chief introduced me as Private Detective Jones.
We sat in the chairs facing the Chief's desk. He occupied his desk chair. I looked around. There was no coffee or pastries available.

  "Mr. Suzuki, please tell us a little bit about yourself."

  "Well, Chief, as you can tell I'm from an Asian background and, by my last name, Japanese. I was born right here in New York City twenty-seven years ago. Not married yet but very close. I went to university here in the city and graduated with a degree in criminology. Number two in my class."

  With that he looked over at me. "If you ever need any follow-up work, Detective Jones, I'm your man. My specialty is chasing down information for cases where the boss has no time. Send me off anywhere in the world and I'll find out exactly what you're looking for."

  I was thinking to myself that is the kind of guy I needed, someone to do all of the dirty work that I didn't have time for.

  The Chief asked, "If that is your forte, what are you doing acting on Broadway?"

  "I got bit by the acting bug when I was getting my degree, and it's fun. This part that I'm doing came up, not many lines. I'm only in the first act and the last. The pay is good, so I took it. Plus, I still have free time to do my real job."

  I was curious, so I asked him, "Who are you working for? Maybe I know them."

  "Right now I am working for the law firm Bradley and Sons Company. They're letting me investigate the case I'm on at my own time, just as long as I have all the info they need by the tenth of next month. I've worked for them once before. They're a nice group of people."

  "Yes, I know of them. A very up-and-coming law firm. How long is your contract with the play?"

  "It's for one year, and it'll be up in just over three months. If I decide not to renew it, or they don't want me any longer, it will be easy to fill my shoes."

  Then looking directly at me, "Of course, I've heard of you, Mr. Jones. Actually I sent an application to you about four months ago asking for a job, but I've not heard back. I still have my hopes up though. I always say no news is good news."

  "I'm sorry, I haven't been looking for anyone, but I'll check it out. I'm sure my secretary has it filed away somewhere."