Seniors Sleuth

by Jennifer J. Chow

  A chat message popped up. “Hey R, ready to battle?” The sender’s name was Zuras, another member of the Eternals.

  Players of Space Domination could connect to one another via headsets and chat using their voices, but some preferred to save their breath.

  “Sorry, not enough time right now,” Winston typed in.

  “I hear ya. How’s old-farts land?”

  “The same.”

  “Really? Did you try it?”

  Try what? Winston wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Let’s go private,” Zuras said.

  All remarks in Space Domination could be read by other players. It helped people to make allies and coordinate battles. There was, however, an Easter Egg found on each level to create a private chat space. Winston searched the screen for the icon to click on; he remembered testing this scene before. His avatar stood on bumpy purple terrain, clumps of poisonous plants scattered across the landscape. Winston honed in on a plant with a tiny silver berry on it; all the others boasted attacking spores. His cursor hovered over the fruit. Click.

  The toxic planet disappeared, replaced by the interior of a space capsule. Zuras appeared with his scruffy red beard, crammed into one side of the curved space. Sparkling stars could be seen through a tiny porthole.

  “It’s safe to talk here, R. Did you use the 5|_||cide 7r3e?”

  Despite his confident tone, Zuras had used Leetspeak, probably as a precaution against snooping eyes. Suicide tree? Was he referring to the poison that had killed Joe? Maybe Winston could get some more information.

  “I tried it,” Winston typed.

  “Did it work?”

  “Quite well.”

  “Frag. One ninety-year-old fogey down. No more questions about your work at Sweet Breeze. No case for the ombudsman. And we get can rich from the geezer’s stash. Don’t forget we’re splitting the cash fifty-fifty.”

  Winston’s mouth gaped open.

  “If you ever need more C3rb3r@ 0d0l14m, I’ve got a great friend in India. It grows everywhere there.” Something snagged at his brain. India. Anastasia had mentioned that country when she showed him her bracelet, which had been a gift from Rob. More connections to the administrator.

  “Thanks. I’ve gotta go do some work now.” Winston disconnected the chat and shut down the computer. He tapped his fingers against the polished desk. If only he knew for sure that Zuras had been referring to the poison that had killed Joe…

  His phone beeped at him. On the other line, Ruisa’s voice floated down to him. “I’ve got a match for you from your sample,” she said. “It’s a toxin derived from a plant that grows in salt swamps and marshes. The scientific name is Cerbera odollam.” The name clicked in his head and translated into the symbols he’d just seen: C3rb3r@ 0d0l14m. With his brain still processing the information, Winston didn’t notice Rob until he’d already stepped into the room.

  CHAPTER 19

  Winston scooted over to the visitor’s side of Rob’s desk, trying to make his movements subtle. “How was Comic-Con?”

  Rob grinned, a smile as wide as the Cheshire Cat’s. “Paradise. I wish it had lasted longer. What’s going on here? Are you done with the case yet?”

  “I still have a few loose ends to tie up.”

  “Do you mean that call you made to me about the dialysis bags?” Rob turned on his computer as he spoke. The fluorescent glare of the screen made his light straw hair seem white. The same color as the tangled mass of white he’d found and kicked under the bed when he’d inspected Joe’s room. Winston felt his stomach clenching. He was seated across from a murderer.

  Winston shifted in his seat to look at the screen, to see if he’d been found out hacking into the computer, but he couldn’t see a thing from his angle.

  “Do you have any leads in regards to me?” Rob asked.

  “Leads?” Winston could feel damp circles growing under the armpits of his shirt.

  “You know, any positions you could find in the gaming industry.”

  “Oh.” He gave Rob a small shake of his head.

  “Didn’t look, did ya?” Rob tapped a few keys on the keyboard and glanced at the screen. “No worries, though.” He rummaged in the small refrigerator underneath his desk.

  Winston could hear the pop of a bottle cap. Rob’s head reappeared, along with two foam cups. “One for you, and one for me. Those bottles are a little too much for one person unless you spread it throughout the day, and then the fizz dies out. You mentioned before that you like Coke, right?”

  Winston eyed the bubbling brew and licked his lips. He hadn’t bothered to eat much of a breakfast before he showed up, and he couldn’t pass on free soda. He’d raised the cup to his mouth when Kristy burst in.

  “Excuse me, Rob. I need you to sign this form. It’s for the new patient, Harold Meekings. I’m having issues getting some of the adaptive equipment through Medi-Cal.” She set down her coffee cup and a load of papers on the desk. She riffled through the documents, picked out an ink-covered sheet, and dropped it in the administrator’s hand. “I’ve documented his need for the item on the TAR form. Please sign here at the bottom.”

  Rob signed the paper with a rapid pen scratch. “Here you go, Kristy.”

  “Thanks. Sorry about the interruption, Rob.” She turned to go, picking up her foam cup and the stack of documents. “See you later, Winston.”

  “Sure… I’ll see you soon,” Winston said. He was grateful she didn’t hold a grudge against him. He watched the tidy sway of her hips as she walked away.

  Rob cleared his throat, rose from his chair, and closed the door. “I see you’re quite distracted by the nurse.”

  “Let me explain—”

  Rob held his hands up. “No need. I’m flesh and blood myself. Remember, I met some cuties at Comic-Con, too.” He winked and lifted his Coke up. “A toast to beautiful women everywhere.”

  Winston followed suit. The moment before the brew hit his lips, he smelled the stale coffee. Kristy must have taken his cup instead of hers. In deference to Rob and in need of something to fill his tummy, Winston decided to take a small sip of the warm liquid. Whether it was the fact that her lips had touched the foam or Kristy’s special mix of coffee, he ended up downing the thing in several gulps.

  “Good stuff, huh?” Rob steepled his fingers in front of him. “I take it Kristy’s off your list then. Who’s your new suspect?” He tapped the pen he’d signed the document with, a staccato beat that rang out in the small room.

  “You.”

  Rob stopped drumming. His mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “Don’t play innocent, Rob. I logged into Space Domination and chatted with your friend Zuras. Cerbera odollam. Tell me about it.”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “Your friend called it the ‘suicide tree.’ Why’d you do it? Joe never hurt you.”

  Rob grew pale and shuffled some papers on his desk.

  Winston pointed to the top sheet. “Maybe this is why. The way headquarters manages compensation for your work. Kristy mentioned that the pension was disappearing, and she told me that you guys get paid by quantity.”

  “Quantity? Oh, I see what you mean. Money is based on head count.”

  “That’s right. So you murdered a man to get an increase in salary. When they keep cycling through fast, you get paid more, right?”

  “That’s preposterous. I would have to kill everybody in this facility to make money then.”

  “I also have another theory,” Winston said. “Joe wanted to report you to the ombudsman. If an investigation occurred, it would have ended your charade of an administration job.”

  Rob crumpled the paper on his desk. “Do you really think I’m that coldhearted?”

  “Yes, because there was the extra benefit of Joe’s hidden cash.” Winston saw Rob’s eyes widen. “That’s right. I know about Joe’s savings. I also read his record. He had no family nearby except for an ex-wife who ditched him for somebody else. I bet you were think
ing: Who would mind him dying a little early?” Winston narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have the right to take somebody’s life from them. I don’t think the police will be very understanding.”

  “Where’s your evidence, Winston?” Rob shook his head hard. “You’ve got nothing on me, just empty accusations.”

  Rob was right. Winston lacked true physical evidence. He needed the poison in his hand. He started ripping pieces off the empty foam cup in frustration. Then he froze. The Coke. It must have been tainted with suicide tree, an easy way for Rob to get rid of the poison tying him to the murder—and the detective asking all the nosy questions. Winston could already feel his throat tighten, and he put a hand on it in panic before logic settled in. He hadn’t touched the poisoned Coke. Kristy had taken his cup by mistake. His eyes opened wide in horror. Kristy!

  “You—you tried to poison me, Rob.”

  The office door burst open at that moment, and a uniformed police officer strode in. “Rob Turner, I need to take you in for questioning for the murder of Joseph Sawyer.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The blond-haired policeman handcuffed Rob’s hands behind his back. “I heard everything.”

  Rob glared at the cop. “What are you doing here?”

  The officer jerked his thumb out the doorway. “A pretty nurse with braided brown hair saw me next door and hustled me over.” He swept a few hairs from the back of his neck, strays from the clip he was receiving at the neighboring salon.

  Kristy walked in, with careful steps, holding onto a full foam cup. “Here’s the chemical evidence, Officer Gaffey.”

  Winston recognized the fizz of Coca-Cola from afar and breathed a sigh of relief. Smart woman. She hadn’t touched the poisoned drink. Rejoicing in Kristy’s well-being, he didn’t see Rob drop his head and then suddenly swing it upwards with a growl. The movement clipped Winston on the chin. “You didn’t give me any game leads, and you screwed up my current job.”

  Winston rubbed his aching jaw. “I told you it was hard to get into the game industry, especially since you didn’t want to start at the bottom. Plus, you never liked this place anyway.”

  Rob tried to hurl himself at Winston, but Officer Gaffey stepped in. “I think I’ll take him to the car now. Do you mind bringing the evidence out to me, Nurse Blake?” His blue eyes swept over Winston cradling his chin. “I didn’t quite catch your name, sir.”

  Winston took a little bow. “Winston Wong, Senior Sleuth, at your service.”

  Kristy smiled while Officer Gaffey blinked at him. “Um, okay. Mr. Wong, unplug the computer and then make sure nobody else enters this room. I’ll come right back for it. We might be able to copy or print out the chat conversation you initiated.”

  “It’ll take me a couple minutes to disconnect everything,” Winston said.

  “I’ll wait for you to settle Rob down and then come in a minute,” Kristy said to the policeman. Officer Gaffey towed Rob away while Kristy stayed and watched Winston.

  He moved around the desk to grab the computer and banged his ankle against Rob’s mini fridge. He popped open the door and pulled out some ice to place on his hurt foot. While scrounging in the recesses of the ice box, he found a tiny vial marked “C3rb3r@ 0d0l14m.”

  Kristy peered over his shoulder. “More fine sleuthing, I see.”

  He smiled at her. “I could say the same of you. How did you figure it out?”

  She shrugged. “Who else could it be? When you got so angry with me, I figured there must be some truth to your insistence on foul play. I never suspected any of the residents, but I thought Rob could be the culprit.” She played with the golden chain around her neck. “I knew he kept an extra key around somewhere for emergency purposes.”

  “How did you know to swoop in and save me by swapping out the Coke?”

  “An educated guess.” She pointed to the incriminating vial. “Based on your poison in the dialysis bags theory, I figured he must have stored the poison on site. For sure, he wouldn’t leave it at home for his parents to find, so the only place where he could have kept it was in his personal refrigerator.”

  She tapped at her temple. “Once you had the brains to figure out I wasn’t involved, I knew you would follow Rob’s trail. And when he realized that, he would try to poison you. No dialysis bags for you, which meant that Rob would try something else.”

  “Like poison in a cup?”

  “The fastest way, and easy for him to transfer the contents over. These foam cups are all around Sweet Breeze, so I carried in my coffee with the ‘important’ document for him to sign on a hunch.”

  “You’re brilliant, Kristy. Why did I ever let you get away?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question.” While balancing the coffee cup with the tainted Coke, she reached for the vial with her free hand. “I’ll hold that and you go unhook the computer.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He unplugged the various parts and placed them in a neat pile for the officer to collect.

  “Well, with such polite words, I’m inclined to be lenient toward you.”

  Winston followed her sweet, undulating frame down the staircase. She grinned at him as he opened the front door for her. “I might be able to make some free time for you,” Kristy said. “So you can redeem yourself.”

  He put on his best bright-eyed schoolboy face. “I’m all ears.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Sweet Breeze seemed to shut down in the few hours after Rob’s arrest. A quiet air of shock pervaded the house. The residents stayed in their rooms with their doors closed. This was in direct contrast to Winston’s own feelings. He was elated at the turn of events and had to hold back from banging on their doors and shouting about his awesome sleuthing powers. He wanted to yank each one out and give them high-fives. When he couldn’t deal with their melancholy anymore, Winston left them to their emotions.

  * * *

  The next day he saw them all during a proper sad event, in the confines of the chapel at Evergreen Funeral Home. The small mourning party for Joe consisted of Kristy, all the Sweet Breeze residents (minus Harold Meekings, who was at the residential home watched over by a family member), and Joe’s ex-wife plus her family.

  An officiant stepped forward from the recesses of the room. He welcomed everybody to the funeral, inserted a generic commendation of Joe’s soul, and then invited Jacqueline to give the eulogy. Joe’s ex-wife, in a simple black sheath dress, stepped to the front of the small gathering. With her silver hair swept back, her green eyes glittered.

  “Thank you all for coming. Joe didn’t stand on formality, so it is out of respect for his wishes that this funeral service will be brief. Anyone who knew Joe remembers his sweetness. Not a bad word left his mouth. His perpetual goal was to bring a smile to everybody he interacted with on a daily basis. I want to recognize Joe for his contributions to this country and for his loving kindness to the people he met.

  “I am very grateful for the chance to have been in a close relationship with him. He lived a long, full life. Although he suffered from kidney failure, he always exuded hope and happiness. I am comforted to know that his pain no longer exists and he is at rest. Thank you for being here and for your support.”

  Jacqueline hadn’t mentioned any abnormality surrounding Joe’s death. Winston wondered if the police had informed her about the arrest yet. He watched as she returned to her family, and they gathered her in a mini hug. Her husband had to be the older gentleman with owl spectacles. A constant wheezing contrasted his otherwise distinguished look and bearing. The middle-aged woman with auburn hair and the emerald eyes was probably the daughter, Emma. Jacqueline’s own green eyes stayed on Winston’s face as he surveyed the Harrison family, now complete and without the past hanging over them. Perhaps the death of Joe had meant a release for this family.

  The officiant spoke again and invited the attendees to view the open casket and pay their respects. Winston edged up to the mahogany casket that held the man at the crux of his first investigation. On the sof
t satin cushion, Joe Sawyer rested. He seemed almost to be sleeping, and Winston’s mind flashed back to his own mother’s quiet death. She’d passed away in her bed, her face sweet and undemanding in her final hour (in sharp contrast to her actual personality).

  Winston turned his attention to Joe’s body again. The mortician Blaire had done a good job with the makeup. He seemed younger than ninety, with his arms crossed placidly and the few gray hairs on his head combed back. A previously white dress shirt—the color had mellowed to a buttery yellow over time—with an extensive array of ruffles hung loose on his slim body. Pinstriped pants covered him from the waist down. On closer inspection, Winston noticed they were made from a sweatpants-like material. He recalled Jazzman had mentioned that Joe was not “a snazzy dresser.” Winston glanced back to locate the pianist and saw the man adorned in a black tuxedo, his top hat tucked under his arm.

  After the viewing, the mourners walked/hobbled over to the verdant cemetery following the casket’s dark sheen. At the gravesite, the officiant sang a hymn in a reedy voice. They lowered the coffin into the ground, and he prayed for peace over the departed and made the necessary soothing statements. Then people were invited to sprinkle a bit of dirt over the grave.

  Jacqueline walked over first, her daughter trailing her by several paces. Jacqueline’s husband stayed back. She placed an ornate wreath, an evergreen monstrosity, on the smooth wood. She sprinkled in a few grains of sand on top. Emma marched up. Her fingernails, painted a dark scarlet, seemed almost like talons as she dropped her dirt onto the coffin, accidentally scraping a sharp line into the burnished wood.

  Kristy strode by next. She placed a large chunk of dirt in the yawning pit. She stood silent, peering down into the dark abyss and touched the gold chain around her neck. Her fingers rotated the chain like pseudo prayer beads. Winston stepped up next and placed a fist-sized mound in the hole. He paid silent homage to Joe and to his lost life. He thanked Joe for the beginnings of his detective agency and hoped that his unveiling of the truth had given Joe some peace in the afterlife.