by J. D. Griffo
“Because we were never able to prosecute his murderer and sufficiently avenge his death,” Helen replied oh-so-nonchalantly. “That’s why.”
“Helen, I mean no disrespect when I ask this question, and not to use Lola’s namesake in vain,” Joyce started. “But Holy Gina Lollobrigida! What are you talking about?”
Both Alberta and Helen were so wrapped up in the emotions of long-ago events that they responded simultaneously, each offering individual snippets of information that when strung together told the story of how their beloved childhood spaniel, Bocce, died.
“Bocce was an angel,” Alberta said. “Most beautiful chestnut brown hair.”
“Best dog ever,” Helen concurred. “But when he got excited, he yelped.”
“I loved the sound of his voice.”
“Everyone did.”
“Except old lady Sanducci.”
“’Cause she was evil.”
“A regular Eva Braun that one. ’Cept she was Molfetesse.”
“She hated Bocce.”
“For no reason.”
“Said that he ate her tomato plants.”
“Bocce hated tomatoes, everybody knew that!”
“We tried to tell her it was the Irish setter from down the block, but she wouldn’t believe us.”
“She said Irish setters were gentle.”
“I said not Winky, that dog was no good.”
“No good at all.”
“She said she was going to make Bocce pay for ruining her garden.”
“We told Daddy, but he wouldn’t believe us.”
“Then one day when we were at school old lady Sanducci poisoned Bocce.”
“We came home and found him dead in the backyard, and I saw that evil woman looking at us through her kitchen window.”
“Smiling! She was smiling!”
“We could never prove it, but we knew she had murdered Bocce.”
“It was written all over his little face.”
“That’s it!” Alberta screamed, throwing her dishtowel down on the kitchen counter. “Jonas looked just like Bocce!”
Ignoring the requests to explain herself further, Alberta raced to the phone on the kitchen wall and pounded some numbers into the keypad while muttering I morti non rimangono in silenzio.
“Amen,” Helen replied.
Jinx whispered to Joyce if she understood what the sisters were talking about, but she was just as much in the dark as Jinx was. Noticing their confusion, Helen translated.
“The dead don’t stay silent,” she translated. “Now, let’s see what Bocce has to say for himself.”
If they were expecting Alberta to convey a message from Bocce, they were going to have to wait, for she was on a mission and was not going to be disturbed until she could share her thoughts with whoever was on the other end of the line. When Vinny finally picked up his phone, he didn’t even get a chance to say hello before Alberta started to speak.
“Vinny! I know why I was so curious about Jonas’s red nose and chapped lips. He was poisoned!”
Alberta only paused because Vinny started yelling louder than she had been speaking. He screamed so loud the other women in the room could hear him clearly through the receiver.
“Are you losing your mind, Alfie? First you know Jonas didn’t die from an accident, and now you know he was poisoned. How, Alfie? How on God’s green earth do you know that?”
“Because he looks the same way Bocce did when he was poisoned by old lady Sanducci!”
“Who?!”
“You remember! Gloria Sanducci, the vegliarda, the old crone who lived next door to us in Hoboken. She poisoned Bocce and when we found him dead in the backyard, his nose and lips looked exactly the same way Jonas’s did. That’s why I was so bothered by it.”
The silence on the other end of the line stymied the women. Was it possible Vinny believed Alberta and didn’t think she was crazy? The silence continued and just when the suspense became almost too impossible for the women to bear, Alberta placed the phone back in its cradle and conveyed that Vinny was going to order a toxicology report to determine if her suspicions were correct.
Proud that Vinny had taken her seriously, Alberta sat down at the table, took a sip of butterscotch vodka, savoring the sweet taste in her mouth before swallowing, and placed her glass back down in the middle of some uneaten cookies and a pile of cards.
“Now, who wants to play canasta?”
* * *
Three days later Alberta and Jinx visited the one place at St. Clare’s Hospital they thought they’d never have to step foot in again—the morgue. Since it was Thursday, Helen had her shift as a volunteer at the animal shelter and Joyce had an appointment with a former colleague who wanted to buy a few of her paintings for his daughter’s new restaurant so, as a result, only half of the Ferrara Family Detective Agency was greeted by Luke, the orderly, when Vinny escorted them into the, unfortunately, familiar room.
Luke had obviously learned his lesson and looked much more professional than he did the last time he met the ladies. Gone were the earphones and the half-eaten sandwich, and in their place were a small transistor radio playing a soft rock classic from the seventies and a bowl of blueberries and granola. It was like they had entered a time warp.
“Hi, Chief,” Luke said when they walked through the door.
“How’s it going, Luke?” Vinny asked.
“Just fine, thanks,” he replied. “And nice to see you ladies again, too.” He quickly realized that the morgue might not be a place where people want to make a repeat visit and added, “Sorry, I guess you’re not as happy to see me.”
“Nonsense,” Alberta said. “It’s always nice to see you. Plus, we’re only here on business this time and not to identify one of your . . . um, guests.”
“That’s good news,” Luke said. “I know this is no one’s favorite place.”
Although she was eager to find out whatever she could about how Jonas died, Jinx was not thrilled to be surrounded by death and felt the need to change the subject with some small talk. “What happened to the earphones?”
“One too many people snuck up on me while I was wearing them so it was time to upgrade,” he explained.
“To a transistor radio?” she asked incredulously.
“Wi-Fi stinks down here,” Luke replied. “So, old school is the new upgrade.”
“I think it makes you look more professional,” Alberta added. “And I’m happy to see that you’re eating healthier, too.”
Looking around the morgue impishly, Luke said, “Thought I better improve the old diet before I took up permanent residence around here.”
Even though his joke wasn’t entirely appropriate, they all understood that in order to keep sane while working in such a profession, not to mention, setting, having a sense of humor was a job requirement.
“What can I do for you?” Luke asked.
“Is Lori around?”
Luke swiveled in his chair to the right and pointed to a door in the far corner of the room. The last time the women were here they didn’t even notice there was another door in the room, but then again the last time they were here they also had other things on their mind. “She’s right in there, go on in.”
“Thanks,” Vinny said.
“Keep up the good work, Luke,” Alberta said, walking right behind Vinny.
“Thanks, Mrs. Scaglione,” he replied, and then added with a wink, “You, too.”
Vinny knocked on the door with his knuckles, but before waiting for a reply opened the door and entered a room that looked more like a large supply closet than an office. He held the door open and gestured for Alberta and Jinx to enter, and as they did they both made note of the nameplate on the door. Vinny didn’t have to introduce them to the woman sitting behind the desk for them to know that they were barging into the office of Lori LaGuardia, the medical examiner. Turns out Vinny didn’t have to introduce Alberta and Jinx to Lori either as she was expecting them.
“He
y Vin,” Lori said, getting up from her chair and walking around her desk to greet her visitors. “And this must be Alberta and Jinx.”
They all shook hands and, despite herself, Alberta was a bit surprised to see a woman in such an important and, in her opinion, difficult position. She knew that women could be as rational and scientific as men, but she didn’t think that they could be as detached. Personally, she couldn’t imagine having to cut up a cadaver on a daily basis or simply having to look at and touch dead bodies in order to receive a paycheck. She knew it was an arrogant thought and being a medical examiner was a vital and worthwhile position that suited some people’s personalities perfectly, but she just couldn’t believe that a woman would want such a job. And she couldn’t believe that she could hold such a misogynistic belief after she had felt held down by men all her life. Ah well, she thought, the mind is a complicated thing.
So was Lori’s professional journey.
“Lori was a doctor here at St. Clare’s years ago before she was whisked away to Europe by some brilliant scientist,” Vinny conveyed.
“That sounds exciting!” Jinx exclaimed.
“It was . . . for a long time,” Lori confirmed. “Until my husband, the aforementioned brilliant scientist, starting cheating on me with his lab assistant. All of them actually. And there were quite a lot.”
“Oh . . . well, that kind of puts a damper on things,” Jinx stammered.
“It did for him,” Lori started. “I divorced the slime bag, took him for every cent he was worth, which was a nice chunk of change whether you added it up in euros or American dollars, and moved back here to start my life over. Not a bad way for a fifty-seven-year-old broad to reboot her life if I do say so myself.”
“And we couldn’t be happier to have her,” Vinny added.
“And I couldn’t be happier to be here,” Lori confirmed.
Despite the smiles plastered on Vinny’s and Lori’s faces, Alberta detected a dent in the clay, a strain underneath the cheery surface that made the smiles appear unnatural. But when Lori spoke, all of her suspicions were put at ease.
“It’s also refreshing to see the chief of police take such a revolutionary approach to solving crime by bringing in some local sleuths who aren’t hindered by following all of those pesky police rules and regulations to help fight the good fight,” Lori enthused.
In spite of her initial concerns about her job choice, Alberta liked Lori, and it wasn’t because of the compliment. She was reminded of what a noble profession Lori was in. Where else could you help right the wrongs of the world and at the same time be disassociated from it. As a medical examiner, Lori could assist in solving crimes or give a family solace as to how a loved one passed away, while never having to make an emotional connection with the prime subject. For a woman recently scorned, it seemed like she had chosen the perfect career. If not the perfect choice of words.
“Thanks a lot, Loretta,” Vinny joked.
“No problemo, Vincenzo,” she replied.
“I’d like to say I keep them on a short leash,” Vinny said. “But we all know I’d be lying.”
Once the laughter died down, Vinny cleared his throat and plunged into the real reason they had all gathered in Lori’s office. “So you said in your text that you got the toxicology report back.”
“Yes, came in this morning,” Lori said as she reached over and grabbed a file from her desk.
“Did it confirm that Jonas was poisoned?” Alberta asked, unable to wait for Lori to reveal the results.
“It most certainly did,” she confirmed.
“I knew it!” Alberta cried.
“That’s pretty impressive that you were able to figure that out, Alberta,” Lori remarked. “A red nose and chapped lips are hardly telltale signs of poisoning.”
“But he was poisoned, right?” Jinx asked.
“Yes, in addition to quite a high level of alcohol poisoning, there were high traces of a pesticide in his bloodstream,” Lori described. “I’m not yet sure what kind, but we’re doing additional tests to find that out.”
Alberta knew nothing about pesticides, but she was curious about alcohol.
“Had he been drinking bourbon?” Alberta asked.
“What are you, Tranquility’s version of Shirley Mac-Laine?” Lori asked. “How’d you know that?”
“I have a bit of history with that particular type of liquor,” she admitted.
Lori paused and nodded, her expression taking on a more serious demeanor as if she understood what Alberta was saying. “Well, however you figured it out, you’re right,” Lori confirmed. “Jonas had mainly been drinking lots of white wine, but also some bourbon.”
“So what are you going to put on your report as the cause of death?” Vinny asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“The fall may have broken his back, but based on even this partial toxicology and the postmortem blood work, he was dead before he hit the ground,” Lori stated. “I’m not sure how the poison got into his system or exactly what type of poison it was, but that’s what killed him.”
Neither Alberta nor Jinx had to say “I told you so” out loud. The words hung in the air like a blinking neon sign in the middle of a pitch-black night for all to see. Alberta was right, Jonas didn’t die from some freak tree house accident. The cause of death was much simpler and far scarier: he was murdered.
CHAPTER 6
Sorpresa!
Upon Lori’s announcement the temperature in the office plummeted. It was as if icicles suddenly sprouted from the ceiling to dangle inches from their heads and as if the cheap linoleum floor started to freeze over to become a skating rink. But Alberta wasn’t sure if it was because Lori confirmed her suspicions that Jonas had been murdered, or if it had more to do with the icy glares Vinny and Lori were casting in each other’s direction. She had been right; their relationship was not as friendly and good-natured as they tried to make it appear.
Maybe it was professional rivalry, Alberta thought. Even though they were both supposed to be fighting on the same side hoping to achieve the same outcome, it wasn’t uncommon for one person in such a race to want to cross the finish line first and be the recipient of all the glory. But she had never known Vinny to be competitive or to think of himself before his position. As the chief of police he had made a pledge to achieve justice, not celebrity.
So if it wasn’t Vinny initiating the stare down, perhaps it was Lori. As a divorcée of a certain age returning to her old stomping ground after a long absence, it was very possible that Lori was hoping to make a name for herself, and very possible that she would try to do it at Vinny’s expense. Make him look bad in order to make herself look good. Alberta hadn’t been in town for that long, but she had quickly learned that Vinny was held in the highest regard by everyone—colleagues, subordinates, and residents alike—so if his authority and role in the community were suddenly being challenged by a newcomer, it would be an unfamiliar attack and would only be natural that he would get defensive. It was human nature even for the best of humans. But as Alberta examined the newest member of Tranquility’s extended law enforcement team closer, she noticed a flicker in Lori’s eyes that was more personal than professional. There wasn’t animosity between them, but awkwardness. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it earlier, but unless she was wildly mistaken, the woman was flirting.
The look hovered in between rascally and kittenish. It was a clumsy expression, but Alberta figured that Lori, like herself, was out of practice when it came to seducing a man with her eyes and trying to capture his attention while in the presence of others. But admittedly, it also looked odd because Lori, although Alberta hated to even think it, wasn’t pretty. At best she could be described as a handsome woman with deep-set eyes, a high forehead, and an unfortunate chin. So when she tried to be flirtatious, if that was even her goal, she wandered closer to bawdy than sexy and looked more like a late-in-life Mae West than a nubile Marilyn Monroe.
Once again Alberta sile
ntly scolded herself for judging Lori, first about her chosen profession and then about her physical appearance. It really was shameful that she would have such an immediate, harsh reaction to a woman she had just met. Wasn’t there this thing called “girl power”? And shouldn’t women support other women instead of falling into the age-old trap of trying to knock each other down like Krystle and Alexis having a catfight in a lily pond viciously determined for only one to emerge the victor? There should be enough room at the top where all women could stand as a united group, and if they did that, Alberta thought, instead of trying to tear each other down with insults and assumptions like she just did to Lori, maybe they’d finally be able to break through that glass ceiling.
Duly admonished, Alberta thought to herself, I certainly learned a valuable lesson today. Then again she may have just fallen into a trap.
“Maybe you should put Alberta on your payroll, Vin,” Lori suggested. “She’s more astute than most of the cops in this town.”
There was that look again in her eyes, but this time Alberta recognized it for what it truly was. Lori wasn’t a flirt or an unpolished vixen, she was an instigator, someone who liked to push other people’s buttons, a piantagrane, kind of like Helen. Whereas Alberta had a lifetime to adjust to Helen’s character, Vinny had yet to warm up to Lori’s personality.
His forced smile was a rather good indicator that despite his earlier bulletin that Lori had been welcomed into the community with open arms, the novelty of her arrival was already beginning to wear thin. Since Alberta got the distinct impression Vinny was desperately trying to maintain decorum, she felt that it was time for her to voice her approval of Vinny and his staff.
“Thank you, but I think you’re giving me too much credit, Lori,” Alberta fussed. “We just put in our two cents and follow the lead of Vinny and his team.”
“Then it wasn’t you who deduced that there was someone else in the tree house who poisoned Jonas and more than likely pushed him out the front door to his death?” Lori inquired, her thick eyebrows arching.