Dancing with Murder

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  Nunzio turned full around to face her. "But it belongs in New Krakow. New Krakow is Polkapourri."

  "Not anymore." Peg shrugged. "It's time for a change."

  "What about the tradition?" Nunzio pinched his thumbs and forefingers together and gestured with both hands. "What about the legacy?"

  "We're more worried about paying the bills," said Peg.

  "Paying Bill?" Nunzio scrunched his face up in the deepest scowl yet. "Bill who?"

  "The. Bills." Peg's eyes flashed with impatience behind the magnifying lenses of her polka dot glasses. "We won't be able to pay them if we don't move. Father Speedy's rates just went through the roof."

  "What about Speedy's roof?"

  Peg leaned forward and hollered in his ear. "His rates are too high."

  "And Valhalla's aren't?" Nunzio looked at her like she was crazy. "It's a ski resort, for God's sake."

  "I guess they must want us bad enough." Peg looked in my direction. "They gave us a great deal, didn't they?"

  "They sure did." Even as I said it, I felt myself sinking deeper in the quicksand of my lies. It was getting harder to imagine that there would ever be a good time to set the story straight.

  Nunzio's photograzed glasses had lost their tint, so I could see his narrowed eyes staring out at me from behind them. "Just like your father, aren't you? A born horse trader."

  He wouldn't have said that if he'd known about the failing club. "Not really." And since when did Dad drive a hard bargain? He always gave in to Father Speedy, didn't he?

  Nunzio's nose twitched. "Lou wouldn't approve, you know."

  I didn't like his tone, but I stayed calm. "You don't think so?"

  Nunzio shook his head sadly. "He used to tell me, 'Nunzio, my friend. It would send me straight to Hell if they ever moved Polkapourri. If they ever destroyed my life's work like that, I know the Devil would claim my soul for all eternity."

  It didn't sound like something Dad would've said. "He said that, did he?"

  "Many times." Nunzio nodded slowly and clucked his tongue with grave conviction.

  When I looked in Peg's direction, she was shaking her head and rolling her eyes. He never said that.

  "You oughtta think twice about this move," said Nunzio. "Think what your father would want, eh? This is his festival, after all. His baby."

  "I will." I frowned solemnly. "Thank you for passing along his wishes."

  "What?" I must not have spoken loud enough for him. "Someone's gassing long fishes?" He squinted and cupped his hands behind both ears.

  "Never mind." I made sure I said that one loud enough to get through.

  "Thanks for stopping by, Nunzio." Peg led him by the elbow toward the front door. "It's always a pleasure to see you."

  Nunzio stopped and turned. He reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. "The pleasure is all mine, bellissima." He planted a lingering kiss on her hand and gazed into her eyes. "All you need to do is call, and I will be at your side." He stood there for a long moment, clasping her hand in both of his own, before allowing her to lead him the rest of the way to the door.

  "Ciao, bella," he said on his way out of Polka Central.

  As soon as Peg shut the door, she flung up both middle fingers in a two-handed flip-off behind him. "Shove it where the sun don't shine, creep!"

  I couldn't help gaping in surprise, and not just because of what Nunzio had done. I'd never seen Peg flip anyone the bird before. "Did he just make a pass at you?"

  Peg nodded. "It wasn't the first time, either. That guy's a total lech. He'll be slobbering all over you if you get too close."

  "Maybe he's not so hard of hearing after all." I shook my head hard to clear out the image. "So, other than trying to score with you, what the heck was that all about? What's the problem with moving Polkapourri?"

  "What do you think?" Peg rubbed her thumb and forefingers together. "It's all about the money. We're pulling the gold mine right out from under him."

  I frowned. "Polkapourri is a gold mine?"

  "It could be, for a crook like him." She hitched a thumb in Nunzio's direction. "He's always wanted to milk it for every penny. Charge everyone admission, charge five bucks for a beer, ten bucks for a plate of halupki. He thinks the city should take it over, so he can skim the cream right into his pockets instead of waiting for Lou to dole out the city's cut."

  "He's tried to take it over before?"

  Peg nodded. "Your father always held him off. With Lou gone, Nunzio probably thought he could swoop in and snatch it right up. Then you came up with the move to Valhalla." Peg grinned and pointed an index finger at me. "Nunzio was wrong. Your dad would be proud of you."

  Not if he knew there was no move. "Nunzio's connected, right? He's mobbed up, isn't he?"

  "That's what they say." Peg folded her arms over her chest. "I'd be more surprised if he wasn't."

  "So he could put out a hit on someone, couldn't he?"

  Peg stared into space. "Like Lou, you mean?"

  I nodded. "Maybe he got sick of waiting for a bigger cut. Like you said, maybe he thought he could snatch up Polkapourri with Dad out of the way."

  "I don't know." Peg cocked her head to one side. "What about the death threat letter, then? 'CAN'T YOU KEEP A SECRET, LOU?' What would that have to do with Nunzio wanting to take over Polkapourri? And what about when the letter mentions an 'understanding?'"

  I shrugged. "We need to talk to someone about him. Who do we know who's friends with Nunzio?"

  "I can think of one person off the top of my head," said Peg. "He played cards with Nunzio just yesterday, in fact."

  I smiled as the name came to me. "Eddie Sr."

  Peg raised an eyebrow. "Keeping in mind that he's a suspect, too."

  "Not much of one if he was planning a reunion with Dad. Why would he kill him if he was going to play a concert with him?"

  "Maybe he killed him because of the reunion," offered Peg. "Maybe it brought back too many bad old memories."

  "Assuming Father Speedy didn't do it." I gestured in the direction of Saint Casimir Church, just a few blocks away. "Talk about holding a grudge."

  "A priest?" Peg scowled. "I don't know."

  For a moment, the two of us stood silently, staring at the floor. I hated that I was having this conversation at all, dealing with my father's murder. At the same time, it seemed like working on the mystery was keeping him alive somehow. Or maybe it was just keeping me from dwelling on the fact that he was gone forever, leaving so much unsaid between us.

  It was keeping me from dwelling on other things, too, like the ominous silence from L.A. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I checked the voice mail yet again...and saw, yet again, that Luke hadn't left a message. There was no missed call from him, either. Whatever was going on out west, I was out of the loop. If it wasn't for the search for my father's killer, I'd have been out of my mind with worry by then.

  Swallowing hard, I pocketed my phone and looked at Peg. Before all this started, I never would've thought I'd be glad for her company...but I was. I'd once thought of her as a clown and a fly, goofy and pesky and incompetent. But she'd turned out to have a good head on her shoulders; if not for her, Dad's murder might never have been discovered. I was feeling a little less hateful toward her each day.

  So I guess Dad was getting his wish about the two of us getting closer, after all. Even if he'd had to die to make it happen.

  *****

  Chapter 29

  Peg and I were still standing in the middle of Polka Central when the front door flew open and Eddie Jr. burst in. He did not look happy.

  "Oh, God." When he saw us, he closed his eyes and winced. "I am so sorry I'm late. What a morning."

  Peg planted her hands on her hips and glared. "A phone call would've been nice, Ed. Required, in fact."

  "I know, I know." Eddie grimaced and pawed at his rumpled brown t-shirt. It was so wrinkled, it looked like he might have pulled it out of the hamper for a second or third wearing. "It's my dad. His car's
still in the shop, and he needed me to drop him off at another doctor's appointment."

  Peg pushed her glasses higher on her nose. "Didn't you take him to the doctor yesterday?"

  "Different doctor," said Eddie. "Rheumatologist yesterday, urologist today."

  Peg sighed. "Just call next time, all right? Let me know if you're going to be late."

  "I didn't know till the last minute. It slipped his mind." Eddie scrubbed his fingers over his spiky black crewcut and scowled. "I don't know what it is with him these days. He hasn't been himself since Lou died."

  I gave Peg a meaningful look, and she caught it. At last, we had an opening.

  "I'm sorry to hear that, Ed." Peg's tone shifted from commanding to sympathetic. "You mean he's been upset?"

  "I don't know. More absent-minded than usual, I guess." Eddie shrugged. "More distant. Like he's always a million miles away, even when he's sitting right across from me."

  Peg walked over to him. "So you think he misses Lou?"

  "They weren't best buddies," said Eddie, "but I guess enemies can have just as much of a hold on people. Or maybe Lou's death is forcing him to face his own mortality."

  Peg reached out and touched his shoulder. "He hasn't said anything to you about it?"

  Eddie shook his head. "He wrecks the car, he disappears without telling anyone, and he doesn't apologize or explain what the problem is."

  I frowned and stepped closer. "He wrecked the car?"

  "Yeah." Eddie nodded. "That's why it's in the shop. He flipped it a few days ago out past MacGruder's Dairy. Said he swerved to miss a deer, but who knows?"

  Peg put both hands on his shoulders and gazed into his eyes. "And he hasn't said a word about Lou's death and how it's affecting him?"

  "Nope." Eddie looked at me, then back at Peg. "I wish he would. Something's wrong, that's for sure."

  "Maybe if you sat him down and asked him point blank." Peg held his gaze and nodded slowly. "Maybe then he would let you in on it."

  "I can't do that. As usual, we're not on the best of terms." He shrugged and looked at the floor. "I can't see him opening up to me."

  "I'm sorry to hear that." Peg gave his shoulders a squeeze.

  "It's not like he isn't busy," said Eddie. "It's not like he doesn't have enough to take his mind off things. He's got a new album to record, for Pete's sake."

  "A new album?" I said.

  "It's his first one in five years. You'd think he'd be thrilled." Something seemed to occur to him, and he tipped his head to one side. "Though I guess it probably still reminds him of Lou."

  Peg frowned. "How so?"

  "Well..." Eddie looked uncomfortable. "He got the contract when Lou died."

  Peg let go of his shoulders. Her eyes were wide with surprise. "He did?"

  Eddie shuffled his feet, looking self-conscious. "I guess Lou made a deal with the record company. He'd only renew his contract if they dropped Dad."

  I frowned. "That can't be right."

  "I'm just telling you what Dad told me," said Eddie. "It was all part of the bad blood between them. Dad's record company didn't offer him a new contract, and the blackballing spread from there. No other company would sign him, either."

  "Dad wouldn't do that." I scowled and shook my head. "He'd have no reason to. He was already the bigger success story. No offense."

  Eddie waved off my protests. "Whatever happened, for whatever reason, Dad couldn't release a new album for five years. He didn't have the computer savvy to sell music online, so for five years, he made no money off recording. Then, the day after Lou died, his record company called. He got a deal just like that." Eddie snapped his fingers.

  "Huh." Peg looked at me. "Maybe he feels a little guilty?"

  "Yeah, maybe," said Eddie.

  "He got what he wanted, but only because Lou died." Peg folded her arms over her chest.

  "Who knows?" Eddie sighed. "Look, I'd better get to work. There's a little glitch with Polish Fly I've got to deal with."

  "What kind of glitch?" said Peg.

  "Nothing to worry about." Eddie headed for the stage. "I'm sure I can smooth things over."

  Peg watched him go. "With who?"

  Eddie spun in mid-stride and spread his arms wide. "Oh, everyone." He kept walking backward. "We had a little disagreement."

  "About what?" said Peg.

  "Me leading the band." Eddie grinned. "Lou's brother, Dupa, thinks he should be in charge."

  It didn't surprise me. Uncle Dupa had always been a troublemaker. "He always thinks that."

  "Yeah." Eddie rolled his eyes. "But so does everyone else. They all quit and formed a new band, Polkapants. But there's good news."

  "What's that?" said Peg.

  Eddie pumped his fists in the air. "Now we have someone to fill the Polkateers' slot on the schedule!" With a whoop, he spun and charged up the stage stairs. "Silver lining, people! We've got one!"

  *****

  Chapter 30

  When Eddie Jr. disappeared behind the stage curtains, Peg pulled me outside and closed the front door.

  "Sound to me like we've found our killer." We were well out of Eddie Jr.'s earshot, but she still kept her voice down. "Talk about motive. The surefire way for Eddie Sr. to restart his recording career was to kill Lou."

  Frowning, I followed her down the front steps and leaned back against the brick wall. "But what about the reunion concert?"

  "Just a smokescreen to make people think he would never kill Lou. He had no intention of going through with it."

  "I don't know." I rubbed the back of my neck.

  "He's been acting guilty. Disappearing mysteriously. Keeping secrets." Peg ticked them off on her fingers. "Sounds to me like someone who's just committed murder."

  I winced. I still had a funny feeling that something wasn't right about this.

  Reaching into my pocket, I found my phone. I checked the voice mail and missed calls...but nothing had changed. Still no word from the West Coast.

  "Did Dad really do that?" I gave Peg a sideways look as I pocketed the phone. "Did he have Eddie Sr. blackballed?"

  Peg shrugged. "There was a lot of bad blood between them."

  "It just seems kind of extreme, doesn't it? Like Eddie Sr. must've done something pretty big to bring it on?" I pushed away from the wall. "I can't believe Dad would ruin Eddie's recording career without a good reason."

  Peg took off her glasses and cleaned the lenses with her sweatshirt. Without the usual magnification, her eyes looked small when she met my gaze. "Eddie Kubiak, Sr. hated your father. He killed him. I know he did."

  I sighed. "So what do we do next? Talk to the police again?"

  "First things first. Polkapourri is in three days." She put her glasses back on and straightened her sweatshirt. "We need to let everyone know that we're moving it to Valhalla."

  Again with Valhalla. How could I get out from under my lie? "I'll take care of it."

  Peg raised her eyebrows. "Really? It's a lot of work, and it has to happen fast."

  "I've got it." I slashed my hand through the air decisively. "Nothing to worry about."

  "So you'll notify all the vendors and performers? Contact the police and parking authority? Arrange for ads in the paper, on the radio, and on TV? Post the news online?"

  "Absolutely." I smiled confidently.

  "You know you've got to place ads in surrounding communities, right? And get in touch with all our sponsors? And contact all the volunteers? Arrange to move all the signage, staging, lights, and sound system to Valhalla?"

  "Of course." I was nodding on the outside, crumbling on the inside. I felt like I was ready to break down and confess at any moment.

  But Peg seemed satisfied that I had it under control. "All right then." She clapped me on the back. "You do that, and I'll keep digging. Eddie Sr. sees a lot of doctors. I wonder what kind of meds he has access to. The kind that might simulate a heart attack, for instance."

  "Let me know what you turn up." Oh, how I wished for
a cigarette. I still had the one Ellie had given me at Bonnie's place the other night; it would be so easy to retrieve it from my purse and light it up. Delicious, soothing smoke could be filling my lungs in a matter of moments. Who cared if I undid the work of six weeks of kicking the habit? If I'd known my life was going to get so complicated, I never would've quit smoking in the first place.

  Peg walked up the steps and opened the front door. "I guess we'd better get started. We've got our work cut out for us."

  I stayed at the bottom of the steps and raised an index finger. "Actually, I'd rather get some of this squared away in person, if that's all right. The police and parking authority, at least."

  Peg looked down at me from the doorway. "Are you sure you have time for that? You could get it done faster over the phone."

  "Faster and possibly screwed up." I rolled my eyes. "Face to face is the way to go with city government and law enforcement."

  "Okey-doke, sweetie." Peg waved. "Good luck."

  I pulled out my phone and held it up. "Call if you need me." Then, I spun and headed for my car.

  For once, I was glad I had a bad habit of leaving my purse in my car. There it was, on the front seat, with my keys inside...the perfect opportunity for a car thief.

  Or someone else who needed to flee the scene of a crime. In other words, me.

  As soon as I got in and shut the door, I felt relieved. It was exactly what I needed at that point in time: a getaway.

  What had started as a bluff to get Father Speedy to back down, then became a white lie to cover the fact that I'd probably ruined Polkapourri single-handedly, had turned into an avalanche of consequences. The truth was, I'd run out of time to fix the problem; I was going to have to come clean soon and hope Peg could still save Polkapourri. There was no other chance that this would work out right.

  Unless Father Speedy gave in, which was possible. He stood to lose a lot of money for the Church if Polkapourri moved or died. But time was running out for him, too. Polkapourri was set to kick off in less than three days. Was he as stressed out about this as I was? All I knew for sure was that I personally was ready to crack.