A Cup of Murder

by Cam Larson

  "You have some good points, but evidence is evidence."

  James laid some bills for a tip on the table and stood to go.

  "Wait," I said. "Come back to the kitchen with me. I have something to ask you about."

  James followed me. He waited while I got the picture from my locker I found by the trash bin. We went into Jacob’s office and I closed the door.

  "I found this picture by our trash bin this morning. I have no idea why stuff belonging to Michael was over here to begin with."

  The photo had a light coffee stain at the bottom right corner. Other than that it was intact. The look in James’ eyes clouded when he heard how I found it but he didn’t comment.

  "This is a duplicate of the picture I saw in your foyer. This one has someone named John in it but yours didn’t. I’m just wondering why you cut him out of yours."

  "It was because it held bad memories. Michael felt guilty about not being with John when he died of the asthma attack that killed him. I didn’t want to be reminded of that every time I looked at that photo. I have no idea why you chose to dig through trash."

  "I didn’t choose to. I saw trash on the ground next to the bin. I stooped down to put it inside. There it was. I took it so I could show it to you and ask you about it."

  I thought a hint of anger showed itself in the Senator at my words. There was no way I was going to tell him about the envelopes with Michael’s name on them were there, too.

  "I’d like to have that photo," said James.

  "Why do you want it? You have one like it already," I say. I take a deep breath. "Why is the word ‘redemption’ written on the back?"

  "I don’t know what that means. Michael felt guilty. Maybe he was going to donate money to an Asthma awareness group, or something else, to make up for whatever that guilt was about. I don’t know."

  His words were familiar in manner to a politician: rambling. The photo was found in the trash on the property of Roasted Love. I found it. I planned to keep it. James got the idea. He left through the front.

  Lily came back to the kitchen.

  "What was that all about? Now he’s talking to Janie and he looks mad as hell."

  I hurried to the front just as Senator James Simms ended his talk with the server. For the first time, I realized how attractive Janie was even though she was obviously very nervous. Her profile showed an upturned nose and emotion brought a color to her face that caused a beauty not noticed before. James stalked out the door. Janie glanced my way and quickly looked away again. I saw fear. I followed her and before she had time to take an order I pulled her away.

  "I need to talk to you," I said. "Lily can get this."

  She walked behind me to the kitchen.

  "How well do you know Senator James Simms?" I asked her.

  "I don’t know him at all. He stopped me to complain about his cappuccino is all."

  "No, he didn’t. He had time to do that when I sat with him."

  "Well, you can think what you want. That’s what it was all about."

  Not only would I plan to get to Roasted Love when Janie opened the next day, I planned to be there at least fifteen minutes earlier. I didn’t want her there alone. I even thought about asking her for her keys to Roasted Love but decided not to.

  By the time Friday rolled around Lily was at my side. Her eyes were sunken.

  "Are you o.k.?" I asked her.

  "I’m not sleeping well. When I get home I’m so dead tired I can’t unwind. It’s the end of the week. Did you ask Jacob about hiring more help? I can’t keep up this pace much longer, Laila. It would help a little if you would extend Janie’s hours to help get us through the afternoon customers."

  "I’ll get something done by the weekend. Do you have any ideas of who may want to work here? I need someone we can count on."

  "How about hiring Jen Perry? She knows the business of a coffee house and I hear she has been thrown out of any chance of running Sunrise. I think whoever buys it will turn it into something else anyway."

  I wasn’t so sure Jen Perry was my answer. I needed Jacob here to make decisions like this. I didn’t think he would go for the idea of hiring someone who had been so close to Michael Simms in more ways than one.

  "Let’s post something on the board at the front for a few days. We may get some leads that way. Ask around, too. I’m not sure Jacob would go for hiring Jen Perry, but I’ll ask him."

  Having something concrete to do to solve her over-worked dilemma gave Lily a purpose. She printed out a help wanted note and placed it at the front of Roasted Love.

  "I didn’t know Janie knew the Senator," I said changing the subject.

  Lily looked at me in surprise. "I don’t think she does. Or at least, she has never mentioned it to me."

  Our eyes locked. There was no doubt in my mind that we both knew James had not stopped Janie to complain about his coffee. Neither of us spoke our thoughts out loud. I appreciated Lily’s discretion.

  The fact that the Senator began to show up in our neighborhood more than once was another question. I reminded myself that he was trying to sell Sunrise. We were the only coffee house on the street until a few blocks over. Maybe he appreciated good coffee and good food.

  "Right," I said under my breath.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Thor and I arrived home, I searched the internet for information on Marianne Andrews. There was something about the connection between Michael and her son, John, that may add up to new information. Michael Simms couldn’t have been all bad. He generously left his business to John’s mother. By the same reasoning, she may have needed income and hastened him along in his death. In the middle of my search, my phone rang.

  "Hi, Laila, it’s Daniel here."

  "Daniel, do you have new information? Things are looking bad for Jacob."

  "Hang on there," he said. "I don’t have anything new. I’m just checking in on you. A friend of mine was in Roasted Love and told me he saw you and James Simms in deep conversation. What was that all about?"

  "It’s a long story. Do you know anything about John Andrews’ mother, Marianne?"

  "I know who she is but nothing else. Why do you ask?"

  "I want to talk to her and see if anything else comes up that gives me any clue about any of this."

  "Don’t tell me you are going in as a reporter again." I could hear a soft chuckle. "You really aren’t so good at that, Laila."

  "No, I’ve given up on using the reporter thing. I got caught by the Senator today at Roasted Love. I’m going to tell Marianne I was friends with Michael and ask her about the relationship with her son is all."

  The chuckle came again. "Why don’t you just introduce yourself as Barista of the coffee house across the street from Sunrise? Sometime the truth gets you farther along. Besides, you won’t have to remember how to keep lies straight."

  I knew he had a point. I was an amateur at this getting information drama. Maybe being truthful from the start would get more from her. The idea that she may have come into Roasted Love sometime and seen me occurred to me. I would have to think about it.

  "At any rate, I don't know her where she lives," said Daniel. "Or how to get ahold of her. I can try to look it up, but I imagine that you'd be better and faster at that than me. Sorry."

  After we hung up I searched a bit more and found some good leads including a phone number. I dialed the number and a woman answered on the second ring. I introduced myself as a friend of Michael Simms who had mentioned an old friend named John Andrews. So much for truth.

  "Yes, I am Marianne Andrews. John was my son," she told me.

  Bingo! We set a time to meet tomorrow evening at her house and she gave me her address. That would give me time to get Thor home and taken care of before meeting her.

  ###

  After another hectic day at Roasted Love, I took Thor home and prepped myself for meeting Marianne. When I arrived at the Andrews home the next evening, a petite lady with touches of grey in her hair met me at the
door. Delicate hand shook mine with a slight force to it. We entered a small living room that was both comfortable and practical. A few books were strewn on two different end tables. A healthy deep green fern set next to the compact brick fireplace. We sat across from one another.

  "Why did you want to talk about Michael and my son?" she asked.

  "Michael was just...so private about his life," I said. "But he kept a photo that included your son. I thought maybe if I learned more about Michael's early life...I could deal with his passing better."

  "I actually have a couple albums that have photos of the two of them..." she said. "I got them out when you said that you were coming over."

  She opened one of two albums on the coffee table and pointed to a picture. Michael and John were young in the photo, maybe six or seven years old.

  "Michael was very close to John from the time they first met in second grade. I thought he was closer to him than he was to his own brother James."

  "Did the three of them ever hang out together?" I asked.

  "They did much later when Michael and John were in their teens. Then when James started in politics, John was with him a little more of the time. He was very interested in working for political parties and jumped at the chance to help James in his elections. Michael did a lot that way, too, but I always thought it was to help his brother out. I don’t think he had any real interest in politics."

  She smiled as she showed me more pictures of the boys. There was one of a handsome John sitting in the campaign office with James hovering over his shoulder. Both were youthful and ambitious looking.

  "James Simms owed a lot to John when it came to winning elections. You probably know John had terrible problems with asthma. There were times he had to take time off from the campaign office. He went for experimental treatments in hopes of a cure."

  Her eyes were wet and I knew she thought of the death of her son.

  "He was too young to die," she said.

  I agreed with her and offered sympathy.

  "Did Michael visit here in your home after your son’s death?"

  "That’s the thing of it. He came by the day before he was killed at his coffee house. He said he dropped by to ask for forgiveness of me and handed me a check. It was the first time in a long time that he had been in this house."

  I sat up straight and asked her what she had to forgive him for.

  "That’s just it. I had no idea why he was asking my forgiveness. I think he was still crushed to the bone that he wasn’t there to save John. The paramedics did all they could but it was too late. He was in the campaign office alone at the time. Maybe Michael felt responsible for not being there." She took a deep breath and I waited.

  "I believe James found him and called 911 that day," she said. "I believe that’s what I was told, but later one of the policemen told me he thought a woman in the office found him. Or it may have been Michael who told me that. I never questioned it since John’s sudden death hit me so hard. At the time, I didn’t really care who found him."

  I made a mental note about who may have found John the day he died. That was something to ask Daniel about.

  "Was the check a big one?" I asked.

  "It was a good amount and I tried to give it back to him but he refused to take it back. Honestly, I thought his days of giving money to others had long passed. I knew he had become a bitter man about so many things. I was sorry to see the change in him. I kept the check and donated it to the Asthma Awareness Group in his name."

  "That was very generous of you."

  "I will always remember the good in Michael. His bitterness caused him to stay aloof from everyone who crossed his path. Both Simms boys were good at heart but I feel strongly that John’s death affected Michael in a way no one could understand." She smiled and looked me in the eye. "You know those two brothers were opposites. They both had Alpha personalities but they were very different from one another."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "Michael pretended that he was apathetic toward people, but he had true empathy for others not as fortunate as he was. He had a hard time attaching himself to any one person though except for John. Their friendship endured."

  "What about James? What is he like?" I asked.

  She shook her head and breathed deeply. "I haven’t seen James face to face for a long time. He seemed filled with anger most of the time. Somehow this trait allowed him to control others. He is a person who likes to show his power over other people. His constituents don’t always see the real Senator, you know."

  Nope, I didn’t know that but I didn’t agree or disagree. She was someone who definitely knew the brothers better than I did. This explanation of personalities was a far cry from what I had observed in the two brothers. I had never seen Michael as a generous person. On the other hand, I didn’t get the impression James Simms was a controlling person much less an angry one until I encountered him in Roasted Love earlier. On the outside, he seemed to be the usual politician, when it came to getting people to vote for him.

  "I appreciate your time," I said when it was time to leave. "Again, please accept my condolences."

  On the way home I felt I could start drawing a few conclusions of my own. The question of the exact circumstances of John Andrews’ sudden death was one to investigate. It was interesting that someone who Marianne couldn’t name found him alone in the campaign office that fateful day.

  I noticed a message on my phone when I got home. It was from Daniel. He wanted me to call him back which I did once Thor finished reveling in my attention.

  "How about going to dinner tomorrow night when you get off work?"

  I was both surprised and happy with the invitation, but I had a lot to think about. Jacob’s desperation came to mind.

  "I’m busy with my detective work. May have to take a raincheck."

  Was I crazy? I must be more involved than I thought to let this invitation fly out the window. Was that another soft chuckle I heard over the phone?

  "Look, I will help you with this private eye work if you’ll have dinner with me."

  I needed an ally. My lack of expertise in investigating murder was evident to me. I agreed. "I need help. So I’ll take you up on the invitation. I think Michael may have had something to do with John Andrews’ death."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  "No, just suspicious. I’ll tell you about my visit with Marianne Andrews when we meet."

  "I think I can get John Andrews’ autopsy report if you want me to. I have a few friends in the police department."

  I couldn’t believe my luck. "Yes, I want that. Bring it with you."

  "Hang on there. I said I will try to get it. I’m not sure I can get it that fast but I’ll do my best. I want to hear everything when we go out tomorrow night, so don’t hold back."

  I laughed. "Don’t worry. You’ll hear it all."

  It was a relief to have someone to lean on. This was especially true when I thought about going out with Daniel Jenkins. I vowed to stick with the business at hand.

  I looked forward to seeing John Andrews’ autopsy report. My reasoning was it could be somehow connected to Michael’s murder. The web was weaving tighter. I thought I probably should look up facts on how to investigate murders. I had no mentor along those lines to know what I was doing. Mainly, I hoped I wasn’t gathering useless information. That is where I needed Daniel. He appeared to have a level head.

  Not sure I liked his joking accusations of me, but I knew he was the one to help me out. It was with those thoughts I realized he had already helped me. I did like it when he questioned me. It made me rethink things.

  My preference was to drift off to sleep with thoughts of Daniel Jenkins dancing in my head. Instead, Jacob Weaver came to mind. He still sat behind bars. I couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes when he begged me to help him. Nor could I forget his slumped shoulders when he walked away.

  The once massive and strong frame looked a few inches shorter. Despair isn’t a prett
y picture. This is especially true when it comes to seeing it in an innocent person pronounced guilty before trial.

  Daniel and I needed to move faster on this investigation.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Daniel and I sat across from each other at the New Orleans Style Restaurant. He had asked me if I liked Cajun food before we chose this place. When I said yes, he introduced me to a huge selection of authentic Acadian dishes.

  "How do they get it fresh from the Gulf to New York?" I asked.

  "They have it flown up almost as soon as the seafood is fished from the waters. Try one of the gumbos."

  He chose the smoked chicken and sausage gumbo. I veered from his suggestion about gumbo and had my eye on the southern shrimp and grit cake. There was Tasso ham on the side. After we ordered I looked at him with expectation.

  "So where’s the autopsy report?"

  He laughed and reached for the folder he brought in with him. "You don’t waste time, do you?"

  I glanced at the report and asked him to explain it all.

  "It states John died as a result of an extreme asthma attack. It also says bruises were found on his body, especially around the head and shoulders. The date, time of death and where it happened is here, too."

  I scanned the document quickly. I depended on Daniel for interpretation and that was enough.

  "Then Michael must have fought with him over something and caused his death," I said. "Did I tell you he gave John’s mother a hefty check the day before he was murdered?"

  "You haven’t told me anything about your visit with Marianne Andrews. So no, you didn’t tell me that. What was the check for?"

  By now, I was into the whole story of what I knew so far. I told Daniel all about the visit, the check, the reasons unknown for it according to Marianne and my own take on it all. I didn’t leave out that Sunrise was now owned by Marianne.

  "Wow! You found out a lot of news," said Daniel. "I’m not really surprised Michael left Sunrise to her. After all, he and John were good friends."