Seniors Sleuth

by Jennifer J. Chow

  Winston brought the bracelet closer to his face. “It looks like a possible hinge.”

  “Let me give it a try.” Anastasia snatched back her bangle, peering through her lenses and probing for a tiny button. At her furious motions, other people around them stopped playing and started looking their way. Even the announcer glanced over, and a lusty pink colored her wrinkled cheeks. Maybe she wasn’t interested in the old geezers, but in the middle-aged Grease-wannabe calling out the numbers. Embarrassed, she hid her glasses under the fold of her chiffon dress and passed the bracelet back to Winston.

  Winston looked for a tiny knob on the bracelet connected to the hinge, but none appeared, so he banged it against the hard plastic chair. All it evoked was the announcer’s gasp of surprise. Beads of sweat rolled down Winston’s forehead. I’ll break it if I need to. He pulled and twisted the thing until it finally made a popping noise. Some contortion of his hand had opened the jewelry. He saw a hollow area inside the bracelet—just big enough for a vial of poison. Winston started whooping.

  The announcer stopped his commentating and made his way toward them. “Maybe you can continue this in the hallway. When you’re ready to return to the game, Anastasia, please come back alone.” He marched them both outside the room, placing a hand on each of their arms.

  Anastasia touched the spot on her arm where the man had grabbed her. “He knew my name.” She gave a little sigh.

  Winston touched her shoulder and held out the bracelet. “This is great, Anastasia.”

  “Keep it,” she said. “For evidence.”

  “Thanks. I’m that much closer to linking Carmen to the murder.”

  “Wickedness must pass down through the genes.” Anastasia shook her gray head. “Once I saw Eve’s tattoo on her leg, I knew about their family’s shady past. Maybe it’s fortunate that Eve got dementia and blocked out those memories.”

  “What tattoo are you talking about?”

  “Her huge muumuus don’t cover her all the time,” Anastasia said. “Eve still needed to take the mandatory summer water exercise class at the indoor gym. Nobody else would have noticed the tiny symbol of Prosperity House on her lower right ankle except for someone from the poor side, like me.” Anastasia cleared her throat. “But we were all supposed to be from rich backgrounds at Sweet Breeze.”

  “What’s Prosperity House?”

  “It’s the whorehouse near the projects where I grew up.”

  Winston couldn’t picture bland Eve Solstice as a prostitute.

  “Anyone who spent any time in Prosperity House knew trouble with a capital T.” Anastasia scribbled down an address for Winston. “Go and check it out, and you’ll see what I mean.”

  CHAPTER 44

  Prosperity House, from the outside, looked like a run-down shack. Its walls were covered with soot and the wood splintered away from its face. A cloudy window stood half-open, with a crooked sign advertising, “50 cent coffee” in black Mr. Sketch Marker; he could even smell the nasty licorice scent wafting off the ink. Winston called through the half-open sill, and a stooped wizened man ambled over.

  “What can I do for you?” The man’s features drooped over his body, like a human version of those tripped-out Dali paintings.

  “I heard you offer more than coffee here. Is that right?” Winston plunked down a crisp ten-dollar bill.

  The old man’s eyes seemed to focus on Winston’s bare left ring finger. “Looking to warm your bed tonight?”

  “No, I just need some information on an old occupant. A private investigation.” Winston fished out his business card from his wallet for the old man to inspect.

  “Lots of people pass through these doors. What’d she look like?”

  Winston whipped out the group photo from Sweet Breeze. He hoped some sort of semblance could be seen even after all her years away from this dump. He handed it over.

  The old man pointed straight at Carmen. “It’s Doris Winter! Wait, can’t be. Doris has been gone for years. And these girl’s eyes are brilliant blue.” He shook his head a few times. “Shame what happened to her.”

  “To Doris?”

  “Yeah. The Chinese customer—Dragon was his name—knocked her up and ran off. Heard he recently married some rich widow and owns some fancy senior care place now. Broke Doris’s heart.” The old man ran a shriveled finger down his arm, as though tracing an invisible line. “She OD’d a week after she gave birth.”

  “What happened to the child?”

  He pulled at his white chin stubble, remembering. “Doris had a mother. Retired before my time here. Heard she was as comely as a dishrag. Hardy, though, and that’s worth a lot in this line of work. She ran off with the baby after Doris died.”

  “Did you track her down?”

  “Nah. Good riddance. Took care of the problem when it was too late to ask Dr. Wells for help.”

  “Who’s Dr. Wells?”

  “Our fine local physician. Walk two blocks that way, and you’ll find him.” The old man pointed over Winston’s left shoulder. “Mobile van with the name of David Wells on it.”

  “I’m confused. You said he could’ve helped with the baby. Is he a pediatrician?”

  The old man shook his mangy head. “He could’ve taken care of Doris’ situation early on, but her temper used to flare up like those flaming red hairs on her head. She was our star girl, and I couldn’t talk her out of giving birth.”

  “Dr. Wells would’ve aborted the baby?”

  “Sure, he could have. He does everything. He’ll suck little bitty babies out, fake diagnoses to get prescription drugs, that sort of thing. If you have the cash.”

  The doctor seemed a good lead for Winston to follow. The default physician in these parts would have a lot of info. Besides, hadn’t Kristy mentioned that Eve’s doctor’s name started with the letter “D”? Maybe Carmen had turned to David Wells to get the DM-160. If Winston could get the physician’s permission, he could link Carmen to the medication and the telltale mark on Joe’s body.

  Winston shook the old man’s hand. “Thanks for talking with me.”

  “You can thank Mr. Hamilton.” The old man folded the greenback and put it away inside a ratty wallet. “He and his presidential buddies can get you anything you want around here.”

  CHAPTER 45

  The mobile van was painted an off-red tinge, the better to match the rust stains all around its undercarriage. The lettering, although dry, still seemed to drip because of the painter’s sloppy job. The sign read, “Dr. David Wells, Call 1-800-NEED-MED.” The windows were painted a dark black all around. Although Winston peered in, he couldn’t spy any moving shadows coming from the interior. He knocked on the car doors, and some paint flaked onto his knuckles. He went around back and tried the handles there. A scuffling noise ensued from inside, and the rear doors flung open.

  “Hey! What do you think you’re doin’?” The man addressing him loomed large, more of a bear than a man. He had curly red hair that sprouted out of every available skin pore. His breath reeked of two days’ worth of raw onions.

  Winston pointed to the sign on the vehicle’s side. “I’m looking for Dr. David Wells.”

  The man puffed his chest out, looking even more gigantic with the gesture. “That’s me.”

  “You’re the doctor?”

  “Yeah.” David pulled out a cigar from his tan corduroy shirt pocket and lit it. “You got a problem with that?”

  “No. I have some questions to ask you.” Winston handed over his business card.

  “Have a seat.” David moved aside a pile of bandages and blood pressure cuffs to reveal a crinkled box labeled, “Syringes with Needles.” He motioned for Winston to sit down.

  Winston hesitated and then perched on the extreme edge of the cardboard. “Do you remember the name Eve Solstice?”

  “I keep track of all my patients in this handy book.” David held up a dog-eared journal, one of those blue books used for college exams. At the sight of it, Winston shuddered, remembering
how he’d dropped out of community college, much to his parents’ shame.

  David fiddled with the pages but didn’t open up the notebook. In the long pause, Winston sighed and slipped him a twenty. “Now let me see.” David flipped the worn pages. “Here’s an entry with the name of Solstice. Showed up here several months ago asking for a diagnosis of dementia for her grandmother. Said she couldn’t get grandma to leave the house for the diagnosis and asked me to come by, but the wheels on this van are just for show. I got too many regulars to move around for one client, so I took her word for it and gave her an official document.”

  “Was her name Carmen?”

  “Sounds about right. I remember now. She was one hot number.” His eyes glazed over, and Winston had to snap his fingers to get David’s attention.

  “I even told her about a new medication for her grandmother. Me and the pharma rep work real close together.” Didn’t reps get paid based on sales numbers? Winston could imagine the lucrative deals that were handled in the shady back of this van.

  “Was it called DM-160?” Winston asked.

  David shrugged. “They’re all a bunch of letters and numbers cobbled together. I prescribed it for her, though.”

  “You have the documentation for that?”

  David leaned back on his own box, a shipment of surgical gloves. He kicked his leg against it, denting the flimsy cardboard. “I don’t know. That’s patient confidentiality rules you’re asking me to violate.”

  Winston gave up another Jackson to feed David’s greed.

  “I can make you a copy… Here you go, sir. Pleasure doing business with you.” Of course, David seemed pleased. Where else could you get a job that paid forty dollars for ten minutes of your time?

  Winston looked once into his lonesome wallet where no more bills greeted him. He peered at the paperwork that David had given him—included was the name of a local pharmacy. When he arrived at the large, impersonal drugstore, he pretended to be picking up a prescription for Eve Solstice.

  “Date of birth, please,” the bored man behind the counter said.

  Winston read it off David’s notes.

  “Still at 217 Laurel Street, Apartment 2A?”

  “That’s right,” Winston said. He jotted down the address.

  “Which medication?”

  “The DM-160.”

  The man looked at the computer screen and yawned. “That’s out of refills. She picked up the full supply already.”

  Winston thanked the man and left. He was on the right track, having verified that the DM-160 did get into Carmen’s hands. As he was driving away, he decided to take a look at the address he’d been given from the pharmacy. The place was nearby, off of McKee Road.

  The brown building faced the roaring main road, the asphalt out front lined with broken glass and cigarette butts. The paint on the walls peeled and curled in on itself, and bars blocked every window in sight. He reached apartment 2A and saw the bright eviction notice taped to the door. The trigger for Carmen’s devious plan.

  What he didn’t know was how to prove that she had given the DM-160 mixed with poison to kill off poor Joe. For that he needed definitive evidence. He had to get into the Solstice household without detection, ideally while Eve and Carmen were both gone.

  CHAPTER 46

  One visit to Alex provided the setup needed to distract Carmen. His friend would lure her away from the house on the premise of viewing the result of her voice acting. To Alex’s credit, he did get Carmen a pretty prime spot in Women Warriors. Her sultry voice lent sex appeal to a fiery redhead named Sasha. Decked in leather, the avatar looked like Red Sonja from Conan the Barbarian.

  Winston listened in as Alex called Carmen and invited her over for the next day. Alex insisted that Carmen bring her grandmother to the mini fête, so she could see Carmen’s success first-hand. Winston could picture the party already. The food would consist of buffalo wings and pizza. The company: game developers, salivating at the chance to meet the screen babe they’d created, in real life.

  * * *

  The event was scheduled for 1:00 p.m., so Winston pulled up to the new Solstice residence at twenty past the appointed hour. He figured it was enough time to compensate for typical “fashionably late” diva tardiness. He slipped into the front door with the key he’d made during the recording session.

  In the living room, he examined the flat screen TV closer. Instead of an American brand, he saw Hindi writing on it. At least, he knew how the Solstices could afford new technology on their budget—from their Indian contact.

  A pale glow illuminated the space, and he could see an Apple laptop resting on the piano lid. The screensaver played glamour shots of Carmen, ranging from moderately unclothed to almost nude. Winston pressed down on the keypad, and the computer resumed. The screen was logged into Space Domination—with the user name of Zuras. Carmen’s comment to Alex about being an avid gamer flashed in Winston’s head. It all clicked together like a key in a lock. Carmen had used the Zuras handle to goad Rob into finishing off Joe.

  She had hoped to find a pliant puppet in Rob. Maybe she had wanted him to complete the task himself to keep her hands clean, but when he balked, she decided to step in.

  Winston still needed concrete evidence not theories, though. He knew where to start and walked toward Joe’s old room once more. He pulled the handle and opened the door into a slew of mess. Chest drawers hung open, tidy linens transformed into quilt heaps, and crumpled papers littered the floor. Somebody had trashed the place.

  Winston started looking in all the crevices and under the bed. All he got in return was a string of sneezes. As his last “ah-choo” subsided, he heard a loud click from the front of the house. Arguing voices could be heard through Joe’s open bedroom door.

  “Oh come on, Nana. It’s not every day that I get to be part of a video game. Why did you make me turn the car around?” He heard the pout in Carmen’s voice even from this distance.

  “You didn’t tell me this new project of yours came from a favor from Winston Wong until we got through the door.”

  “Whatever. The man’s harmless. He never figured out that I was cheating the system.”

  “I don’t want you indebted to him, Carmen. Now help me find that DM-160 tube.”

  “It’s gotta be here somewhere, Nana. I looked for it plenty the day you lost it.”

  “I just don’t like my things missing.”

  “You and your order. It’s not like you need to use the medicine anyway.”

  “Wait a minute, the computer still has Space Domination running. Why isn’t the screen saver on? We’ve been gone long enough. It should have kicked in automatically.”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care, Nana. I’m not letting you ruin a celebration party for me. I’ll go by myself.” He could hear Carmen storm out of the house.

  Winston looked at the open door to Joe’s old room. If Eve walked a little farther on in the house, she’d spot it right away, and he didn’t think he could close it without attracting her attention. He couldn’t walk back out the way he’d entered either.

  He scrambled to the patio door and yanked it open. The hinges squealed like a pig on steroids. He made it through but heard the sound of footsteps coming closer.

  He ran even faster and squished himself into the bush that blocked the way to the back garden. He got caught in its numerous branches, though, and felt an iron hand grip his foot. “Stop right there, Winston,” Eve said.

  CHAPTER 47

  Winston tried to yank his foot away from Eve’s grasp. He flailed at her, feeling as useless as when he button-mashed an old arcade game. Eve’s fingers loosened a tad but found some traction on his flip-flops and his knobby toes. He decided to distract her by engaging in conversation. At least, that tactic worked in the movies. “I know you’re cheating the system, Miss-Fake-Dementia.”

  She chuckled. “You still don’t understand, do you?”

  “I know that Rob didn’t kill Joe, and I intend to p
rove his innocence.”

  “Rob was a great scapegoat. I liked chatting with him through Space Domination.”

  “Wait, you’re Zuras?”

  “Now you’re getting it.”

  “How did you have access to the game at Sweet Breeze?”

  “My trusty tablet. You saw Carmen borrowing it that day on the back patio. Didn’t you see my logo on it?” The woman with the serpent around the Apple symbol: Eve.

  “Where did you keep that hidden?”

  “Used my typical attire.” She patted her giant heart-covered muumuu. “I keep all my important stuff near me.” She flashed it open, and he saw the hidden inner pocket—with a pair of rainbow fuzzy socks nestled inside.

  He needed to continue talking and keep her occupied. “I saw the figure-eight mark on Joe’s body. Why use the DM-160 at all?” Winston snapped a branch off the bush for a weapon, but the soft bark curled up in his hand.

  “That happened when Plan A failed. I had already put the poison in the dialysis bags in the cabinet while people were distracted during Anastasia’s birthday party. Easy to do since I’m always ‘wandering.’ But then Rob had to be a hero and cut the bags.

  “I knew the poison would drain out before Joe was affected, so I went to Joe’s room to finish the job. The extra boost from the DM-160 would make the poison stronger. I needed it to act fast, so I could grab his lucky socks.”

  “He saw you,” Winston said. “Anastasia heard him talking to somebody.”

  “He managed only a few words before I mixed the primer with the remaining toxin and injected him with it.”

  Winston eyed the bush near him. He pulled the leaves back, increasing their tension, hoping for the plant to spring into Eve’s face. Instead, it struck him on his left cheek, and he winced. “But Joe was a friend of yours. A fellow resident.”