“Did he say what it was that had gone missing?”
“I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but I believe he said he was searching for a medallion of some kind.”
“He must have been referring to one of the gold medallions Max awarded him over the years. It was Max’s way of honoring the maestro’s success for setting a new sales record, getting nominated, or winning an award. When there was a new one, we always saw it first. Dave kept them on display in his home office.” It was my turn for my voice to trail off. Had the thief murdered Dave and staged a burglary to cover up the missing medallions? Why not smash the glass on the display case and take more of them, or steal other items in Dave’s house to make it look like the intrusion was about theft if the whole scheme was intended to be a cover up?
“I can understand your misgivings, Meg. Why not have Maggie find someone new to trust until the investigation into Dave’s murder gets resolved and his estate it settled.”
“You?”
“I’m happy to do what I can, of course. She needs a good lawyer to head off any hanky-panky about Dave’s last will and testament. Let me get her the name of a good attorney who’s not associated with Marvelous Marley World or any of the parties already in Dave’s life.”
“If you could do that, I’d rest more easily. After all we’ve been through, I don’t want more trouble for her.”
“I’m with you on that one hundred percent. I’ll get a couple of names for her, she can meet them both, and decide which one’s a better fit. Let’s eat!”
I plated the food, placed the plates on a serving tray, and had Margaret open the screen door for me as we headed back outside for our lunch. Thankfully, the meal turned out well enough, despite being so engrossed in Meg’s revelations. We chatted amiably over lunch about Maggie and Meg’s adjustment to life on the West Coast. A thoroughly enjoyable conversation that was suddenly interrupted by a phone call. Not mine, to my great relief.
“Will you excuse me for a moment? I need to take this call.” Maggie picked up her purse hanging on the back of her chair and dug through it as she stepped through the sliding doors into the kitchen. Whether she knew it or not, from where I sat I could see two cats stalking her.
A few minutes later, Maggie came dashing back outside. With her phone still in hand, she dropped back into her chair next to me. She wore a huge smile on her face.
“I got the part! Can you believe that? It’s a bit part as the goofy girl next door to the star, but it’s a recurring role in a new sitcom. If the show gets off the ground, I’ll be working as an actress for a while.”
“Congratulations!” Carol and I exclaimed almost in unison.
“That’s wonderful!” Meg exclaimed. “There are no small parts, as I’m sure you’ve heard many times.”
“Grandpa said the same thing.” For a moment, Maggie’s mood darkened. I felt her sadness about not being able to share the news with Dave. Then it was as if a spotlight had been turned on her. She lit up. “He’s still looking out for me, isn’t he? I haven’t even told you the best thing about the role is that the goofy neighbor is a wannabe singer, like me. I’ll get to sing as well as act.”
“A role made in heaven,” I murmured wondering if Dave’s old friend Max might also have had a hand in helping her get consideration for the role. I heard a soft thud from inside, followed by other odd sounds.
“Maggie, you’re going to need someone to review the contract for that job before you sign it,” I said making eye contact with Meg for a second. “Why don’t I send you the name of a couple of lawyers who can help you with that and anything that comes up having to do with your grandfather’s estate, okay?”
“A lawyer! I am moving up in the world. Thanks, Georgie.” Maggie’s response drew an appreciative nod from her grandmother. Another strange sound from indoors shifted my attention.
“Those cats are up to something, I bet! I’ll go check on them. I hope you saved room for dessert because Maggie’s news calls for a celebration. I’ve got mascarpone brownies with a little vanilla ice cream, okay? Coffee, too—the real deal or decaf—whichever you prefer.”
“I’m on a roll. Chocolate brownies, too!” Maggie replied enthusiastically. Meg laughed at Maggie’s enthusiastic response. “Decaf for me please, I’m already wired.”
“Who can live without chocolate and coffee? I’ll have decaf too since I know Maggie will worry less about me if I skip the caffeine, even after I got such a good report card from the doctor this morning.” This was a woman after my own heart! Both Margarets were great fun to have around. Jack would enjoy meeting them. I was already formulating plans for a dinner party.
“Do you want help?” Carol offered. I was about to say no when I saw Ella go scurrying by at lightning speed. Miles, on her heels, bellowed as he gave chase.
“Maybe you’d better come along, Carol, in case the cats knock me down as they rampage.” As if to underscore my concern, Ella scurried by going the other way. I caught sight of something shiny she was batting around like a hockey puck.
“What is that you, furry little devil?” I hurried into the house with Carol following. My response was the pleasurable chatter that means Ella has acquired a new beloved object. Ella kept moving but Miles came to a stop, eyed me, kinked his tale and took off in pursuit of Ella who was heading down the hallway with her toy. “Uh-oh,” I said as I spotted Maggie’s soft leather purse on the ground, some of its contents on the floor.
“Carol, will you put Maggie’s stuff back into her purse, please? Let me go see what the little sneak thief has stolen.” Ella’s not above cat burgling if that’s what it takes to feed her need for shiny things. As Carol went to work stuffing items back into Maggie’s purse, I took off after the cats.
This time they both stopped and looked right at me. Then, zoom, they were off again. The only thing that slowed them down was the fact that she couldn’t move too fast with her loot. When I caught up with them, I understood Ella’s delight. I picked up what was an exquisite silver compact etched with a fanciful and elaborate letter “M.” I stared at the beautifully drawn letter, marveling at the handiwork, and couldn’t help thinking that “M” stood for murder as often as it had popped up in the past few days.
“Oh, Ella, this is so pretty, isn’t it?” She blinked at me. Leaning against me, she stood on her hind legs and reached up for it. “Shame on you, Ella, for stealing from our guests. That’s rude!” Then Ella griped at me, dropped down on all fours, and showed me her backside. As she shuffled on down the hall to sulk in the bedroom, Miles trotted after her without uttering a sound. No back talk told me he knew Ella was at fault.
Talk about an inside job, I thought as I took that lovely compact back to its rightful owner. Was someone close to Dave also a compulsive sneak thief like Ella, or worse—willing to kill to possess those shiny gold medallions? Jack was going to love hearing the bits and pieces of news from all the other women Carol and I had spoken to today. I couldn’t wait!
20 Requiescat in Pace
I was glad to be sitting down when I called Jack to tell him about what I’d learned from my meeting with Emily Lombard and lunch with Meg and Maggie. He was relieved to hear I was already at home, behind guard gates, and a home security system. Before we were married, Jack had insisted I improve my home security system. An all too close encounter with a Marvelous Marley World associate who turned up at my house one night had been a scary reminder that gated communities don’t always keep the bad guys out. I was glad I’d listened to Jack after his latest update about Charlie’s murder.
“Charlie’s killer left a calling card with a note on it. Scrawled on the back is the Latin phrase: ‘requiescat in pace’ or something close to that as far as my pronunciation goes. It means rest in peace. I’m sure that must be what the wolfman said about the photograph of Dave Rollins when he gave it to Charlie.”
“It’s hard to imagine how Charlie got ‘request it in pieces’ from that, but I’m sure you’re right.”
“You must be kidding, Jack!”
“I wish I were. I’m afraid there’s more.”
“Okay,” I muttered, brought up short by the ominous tone in my husband’s voice.
“When I told you Charlie’s killer left a calling card, I should have been more specific. I wanted to make sure you were safe first. The killer scrawled that Latin phrase on the back of one of your business cards, Georgie.” That’s the point at which I felt a shot of adrenalin that made me feel weak in the knees, and grateful to be seated. I was speechless trying to understand the implications—none of which seem harmless or purely coincidental.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Just about anyone can get one of my business cards easily enough. I hand them out all over town. Most recently at Dave’s gala. They don’t have to get one directly from me either. We leave them out at information desks at all the resort hotels, in restaurants, and on the counter in the reception area at Marvelous Marley World Headquarters. The caterers carry them…” Jack interrupted me.
“You’ll drive yourself nuts trying to figure out how it got into the hands of Charlie’s killer. What matters is for you to pay extra attention to your personal safety, especially when you and Carol are nosing into anything remotely related to Dave’s life or death. Cool it, even.”
“You’re not going to lock me in a closet or our bedroom, are you?” I asked hoping to lighten up my mood and the tone of our conversation.
“What?”
“Oh, it’s something Carol said about how we’re like Nick and Nora Charles—from The Thin Man movies, you know?”
“Yes, I do. You’re not an heiress but I did luck out like Nick, didn’t I?”
“Your luck will run out quick if you ever pull a stunt like Nick did trying to get Nora to butt out of a case. That and his devotion to the life of the vine are drawbacks to an otherwise charming man in an entertaining series.”
“My only vice, other than you, is your cooking. Especially the desserts. Those cookies went over big. Unfortunately, that started all the quips again about marrying up.” Jack let out an exasperated sigh, and then spoke in a high, squeaky tone, ‘And she bakes, too!’”
“Let me guess—Artie Dodge.”
“Yep, or the ‘artful dodger’ as he’s better known around here given how often he manages to avoid doing his share of paperwork. He was Johnny-on-the-spot when those cookies appeared.”
“I’m glad your coworkers enjoyed them. As I recall, ‘poor Nicky,’ as Nora called him, took plenty of ribbing from his pals. At least, since I’m not an heiress, you don’t have to put up with nasty remarks from snooty family members.”
“That is so true. Your brothers have welcomed me with open arms, grateful I rescued their sister from a life as an old maid.” I gasped.
“Shame on you! That comment’s almost as bad as locking me in a closet. Besides, I won’t be getting any older as a married woman if that killer on the loose decides to sneak up on me and bash me over the head. If you use that old maid lingo around my women friends, married or not, you may be the one who gets a bump on the head.”
“I’m sorry to tease you about being an old maid. You’re far too pretty for anyone to believe me anyway.”
“And here comes the blarney. Enough about me. You’ve got to hear what Emily Lombard had to say including the fact that she was at Dave’s house Friday night. With prodding from her Aunt Connie, Emily agreed to provide a written statement and sit down for an interview if her lawyer’s present. She’s expecting a phone call from you or someone with the Malibu police.”
“That’s great. We won’t have to continue chasing her down.”
It didn’t take long to give Jack the scoop about Emily’s version of what went on Friday night. I warned him that the sweet-looking, blue-eyed blonde was no angel. She might not be as cooperative with her lawyer in the room as she’d been with her Aunt Connie confronting her. As I knew it would, the part of her story about bumping into a security guard got Jack’s attention.
“Accosted sounds more like it. She was lucky that limo showed up when it did. Once I’ve confirmed the time the limo picked up Emily, I’ll check again with Dave’s security service to see if anyone was patrolling the area around then. Unless Dave had called them, they wouldn’t be making a patrol on foot anyway.”
“I agree. He struck me as intimidating. It wasn’t just his size, either. When she described him as big and beefy, Adam popped into my head. Does he qualify as beefy—as in bar bouncer beefy?”
“Mm, maybe. Bar bouncer beefy or not, he’s a big guy with access to Dave’s property. I didn’t see any tattoos, did you?”
“No, dang it! Then again, I wasn’t looking for them, were you?”
“No. Let’s ask Pat, now that she’s turned over a new leaf when it comes to sharing what she knows with us. If he’s got a tattoo, we’ll pick him up; and when Emily Lombard comes in for her interview, we’ll see if she can I.D. him as the fake security guard.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if it were that simple? I’d love to make that kind of progress now that I know there’s a card-carrying Georgie-hater out there.”
“I agree, but it’s been less than a week since Dave was killed. In homicide investigation years that’s no time at all.”
“I hope they’re shorter than dog years. I don’t like the idea of more bodies turning up, especially if one of them could be mine.”
“Hope’s a good thing, but keeping your guard up is even better. Hang on a second and let me get someone to follow up with Emily Lombard. I’m also going to get someone to see if Dave’s security service had anyone on the premises or nearby that night. As far as I recall, they do drive-by checks but no foot patrols. Then, I want to hear what you learned from Maggie Knight and Margaret Landry. It could wait until I get home, but if you tell me before I leave for the day, I can get someone working on any leads they provided. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen.” While I waited for Jack to return, I compulsively checked the locks on the doors and alarm system. All silly and needless actions. It was dark out and I kept picturing my business card in a dead man’s shirt pocket with a note on it. Rest in peace, in any language conveys the same unpleasant message.
Something in my movements put the cats on guard. They were on my heels as I made my rounds and not making a sound. There had to be a connection between all the disparate components. Women and Mozart, art and money, were recurring themes at the center of this mess. How did they fit together and what did they have to do with me?
An image of Maggie’s compact Ella had found so delightful came back to me. “Let’s not forget the stupid letter ‘M’!” I griped aloud. The sudden sound of my voice startled the cats and they took off. “Fraidy cats!” I exclaimed, speaking to myself too as I emerged from the paranoid reverie that had overcome me. When Jack came back on the phone a second later, I had a question for him.
“Did you or your coworkers have any luck finding out more about the members of the Wolf Gang or any tie-in between that group and all the Mozart mumbo-jumbo that keeps turning up in the investigation?”
“Not much. Pratt and Kendall are dead, as Pat told us. We confirmed that Professor James Bellagio is still alive. He won’t be back on campus until tomorrow after being out of the country for the past ten days or so. That makes it unlikely he killed Dave even if he did have an old score to settle with him. There’s also the matter of his age. I hate to tarnish my knight in shining armor image, but I’d find it difficult to dump a bucket of rocks on anyone at my age. If our assailant and Dave’s killer were one and the s
ame, Professor Bellagio isn’t likely to be our man.”
“I’m still blinded by the sheen on your armor, Sir Jack! Do you have any reason to believe there was trouble among the members of the Wolf Gang?”
“No. I tracked down one of the two younger men in that photo who served the maestro and his gang members when they met back in the nineties. He still works for the City Club as a maître d’. Gil Evans remembered them and even told me which private dining room they were in when that photo was taken. He laughed when I asked if he’d ever witnessed any arguments that got out of hand. Gil Evans claims there was endless arguing, but no brawling or challenges to resolve their differences with a duel like Pat says Dave and Max did that day.”
“What were the Wolf Gang members arguing about?” I asked.
“Mostly Mozart—his music and his life. That included the dispute about Salieri and his envy of Mozart that supposedly led him to commit murder.”
“That mystery hasn’t ever been resolved one way or the other. I went back and read about it again and it’s not clear Salieri was all that envious of Mozart since he was a high-profile composer with a successful career in his own right. There’s no clear evidence that Mozart was poisoned by Salieri, either, even though he believed that’s what was happening to him as he grew sicker. What complicated matters is that Salieri confessed to poisoning Mozart when he was near death years later. His doctor claimed he’d descended into dementia by then.”
“Maybe a last-ditch effort to make a name for himself as the man who killed Mozart.”
“Good grief. All we need is another motive. Kill the maestro and achieve instant stardom!” I stomped my foot in frustration.
“Whether it’s true or not, that character Skip mentioned who wrote Dave all those letters over the years believed the whole Salieri assassin story.”
Murder of the Maestro Page 17