Another Senseless Killing (4) "I gather this Rowland has no money." I found myself despising this prick as much as Margo did. "Or credit." She added mechanically. I could almost see her breath. "Manny, please don't ask me any more questions. I've said more than --- " "I'll call my friend on the force, Lieutenant Nick Foley," I interrupted. "and have him check BMV." "Manny." Margo sat up quickly. The frightened look returned. "I told you I don't want the police involved." "Don't worry. They won't be." I put my finger to her lips before she could protest. "I know how you want this investigation handled. You have to trust me." We looked at each other for a long moment. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, the sparkle was back. She spoke slowly and resignedly. "Okay." I took out a photo of Curt Warner. "Know this man?" She studied it for several seconds, then shook her head. "No. Who is he?" "He was found murdered." "What's that got to do with --- ?" "Your sister's picture was in his pocket." "Oh my God!" Panic replaced fear. "So what does that mean?" "Right now, nothing." I spoke softly. "It just means that this man knew Kate." "I know but --- he's dead --- and --- " "That's true. But it doesn't mean Kate had anything to do with it." I could see she was unconvinced. I put the picture away. "Maybe this person was just a friend or --- " "A murdered friend." "Margo, let's not jump the gun here, okay?" I leaned in toward her. "All I need to know is that you didn't recognize this guy." "What's his name?" "Curt Warner. He was from Saint Paul." Our eyes met briefly and our legs touched. Then our gazes froze into each other. She shrugged. "I never heard of him." "Then forget it." I put my drink on the tray next to the decanter. Margo stood. "Easy for you to say." She smoothed out her dress, which had hiked up about a mile above her knees. I was dying to kiss her as hard as I could until my eyeballs hurt. But I knew it was a bad idea to even consider doing it. In fact, this whole fucking state of affairs was a bad idea. I stood to face her. "Just leave everything to me." She nodded but I knew she was still unconvinced. "Goodbye, Margo." "Goodbye, Manny." We shook hands and I left. I got in my car and sped away, headed as usual for a cold shower. * VII It was three p.m. on a dreary Monday afternoon and I sat alone in my office looking at a blank wall, pondering the tortuous route my life had taken. The phone rang and my heart stopped. It rang again. I continued to stare at it, waiting patiently for my vital signs to return to normal. I lit a cigarette then picked up after the third ring. “Hello.” “Hello, Mr. Gold.” I took a deep drag. “Hello, Carmen.” “Any news yet?” Her voice sounded shakier than mine. “No.” I expelled the smoke slowly. She continued to squeak. “I just can’t believe that Alex would ever cheat on me.” “We haven’t proved he is cheating.” Do I really need this? There was a long pause. I wondered if she was looking for some cheese. “Look, Carmen.” I extinguished my cigarette. “If I find anything out I’ll call you --- okay?” Another long pause. “Okay.” “Goodbye, Carmen. * Margo was waiting for me as I pulled up in front of her apartment. She got into the car quickly. There was no mistaking her apprehension as she slammed the door shut. I gently put my hand on her arm. "I don't know why you insisted on coming. You told me you hate this place." "I changed my mind." She sounded adamant. "Why are you so damn stubborn?" I pulled away. "I am perfectly capable of handling this investigation alone!" "I'm sure you are!" She snapped. I just shook my head. I wasn't going to argue. "Well, as long as you're here, tell me again all you know about John Carver and this school." She hesitated. "But I already told you all I know over the phone last night." "I know. But clue me in again." I love being with Margo, but for now I would have preferred to be alone. "I want to be doubly sure of all the facts before we go there." Margo sighed deeply, then said suddenly, "I can't prove it, but I think John Carver has slept with my sister." "What!" My foot almost slipped off the accelerator. "And he's married --- with children yet!" "You didn't tell me that last night." I stopped for a red light. "I know." I glanced at her and could see her jaw tighten. "I have no proof, so I didn't tell you." The light changed and I drove away "I just want to find out first hand. I need to look the son-of-a-bitch in the eye and dare him to deny any dishonorable intentions as far as Kate is concerned. I want him to say it to my face!" "Well, now I know why you decided to come." Margo continued to rant. "I want him to look at me and say he never slept with her. I want him to tell me that he always treated her with respect. I dare him to say all that!" "Calm down." I said soothingly. "Of course he won't say it. He'll deny any allegations." "Well --- even so --- " "Look. When we get there let me ask the questions, okay? You're just too emotional." Margo didn't respond. "And considering that you're paying me for my expertise --- " "Okay, Manny. I get the message." After driving in silence for a while, I added, "Maybe they didn't just sleep together. Maybe there was a serious relationship between them that --- " Margo laughed nervously. "I doubt if Kate could be serious with anyone --- especially an asshole like John Carver!" "You really do hate this guy, don't you?" "You don't know what it's like, Manny. I was there only once. That was enough. I could hear him screaming at her --- ripping her apart! I told her later that she didn't have to take his crap." Then she softened her tone. "I told her she should take her talents elsewhere. She was wasting her time there. As usual she didn't listen." Then she shrugged. "But, that's my sister." I slowed down at an intersection. Then I smiled absently. “You find this amusing?” “No. It’s just that --- “ I looked her in the eye. “ --- first Herb Rowland, then John Carver. I would hate like hell to be on your shit list!" The hostility faded momentarily. "Then you better behave." I stopped the car and pointed to a building about a hundred yards away. "Is that the place?" Margo nodded. "Yes." I pulled up in front and we both got out of the car. The very modern Carver Building was fifty to sixty feet wide, one floor and all stone with gigantic smoked glass windows. The white borders and trim looked newly painted. A large brown sign with black and gold letters on the door read: JOHN CARVER SCHOOL FOR MODELS SINCE 1980. It was the only building on the block that was in use. The rest of the immediate surroundings were either empty lots or empty storerooms. Margo opened the door and we went inside. To the right was a short hallway with three doors. One said BALLET and one said MODELS. The third said OFFICES. The walls and ceiling were a glossy white. There were several pictures of young female dancers all in tights and all in various dance positions. "May I help you?" asked a thin attractive young girl with long blond hair, seated at a reception desk in the center of the entryway. Margo and I exchanged quick glances. "Sometimes Kate sits here." she whispered. I could see Margo was more than nervous. She was afraid. I spoke up. "We have an appointment to see Mr. Carver." The blond looked in her book. "Manny Gold and Margo --- " Now she looked up. " --- Blair?" "Yes." I answered for both of us. The blond stood. She must have been six feet tall. "You must be Kate's sister." "Yes." Margo forced a smile. Again we exchanged a glance. The blond smiled back. Then she walked to the door marked OFFICES and knocked. After a few seconds, the door opened and a short, bald, rotund middle-aged man in a wrinkled double- breasted suit peered cautiously behind his thick glasses. Quiet words were exchanged briefly between the two. Then he walked up to Margo. I couldn't believe someone as beautiful as Kate could in any way shape or form be sexually linked with anyone resembling a toad. "I feel terrible." He spoke in a monotone. Then he turned to the blond, now seated, and whispered something in her ear. She turned red and smiled bashfully. What that was about? "We all feel terrible." Margo interrupted his 'I'm sorry' speech, and introduced me. "This is Manny Gold. He's a private investigator I hired to help me find my sister." "Nice to meet you." Shaking his hand was like holding a piece of raw liver. We glared at each other. Neither of us smiled. "Have you had any success?" His question reeked of insincerity. "Not yet." I stood taller. "But we're very close." "That's good --- " We continued to stare at each other. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Have we met before?" "Not unless I sold you an annuity." I quipped. "Hmm --- it's just that --- " A telephone rang. "Excuse me. I'll take it in my inner office." He quickly went into another room, closing the door behind him. After a moment, Margo walked up to the blond receptionist. "Do you know Kate very well?" "Yes --- well --- sort of. She works right here." She looked at Carver's closed door. Then she looked back at Margo. "I've only worked here a few weeks. Kate and I alternate days --- " Again she looked at the office door. "--- so we've never really gotten a chance to know one another." She glanced at Margo then went back to her paperwork. Margo didn't respond. She stared at the blond for a few seconds, then her eyes roamed the area. I opened the door to the room that said BALLET. It was long and narrow. The walls were mirrored floor to ceiling and parallel bars extended all around the vacant room. The floor was a shiny hardwood. Everything looked brand new --- almost unused. John burst out of his office and quickly said apologetically, as if reading my mind. "As you can see, we're not busy. Mondays are always like this." He waited for a response. When he got none, he continued. His phony smile widened his double chin. "So what can I do for you?" Get the bullshit over with as soon as possible! "Can we go into your inner office?" I asked. He hesitated a second. "Certainly." He and the blond exchanged smiles again. There was definitely something going on between these two. He led us into a small office --- maybe nine by eleven. A desk was against one wall with papers neatly stacked in two little piles on one side. The rest of the desk, with the exception of the telephone and a large notebook, was unexpectedly clean. It was nothing like mine. Several chairs lined one wall. Two file cabinets were against the adjacent wall. The round fluorescent fixture overhead provided plenty of light. The thick red carpet looked like a large blood clot. I wondered what the interior decorator in Margo thought. Carver brought two chairs over and placed them across from his desk. He sat down and gestured for us to do the same. His phony smile remained intact. "So you teach both modeling and ballet here?" I asked. "Yes." He stuck his chins out. "This is the only modeling agency I know of that incorporates ballet as a part of the overall program." "Really?" I was getting fidgety. I needed a smoke. "It teaches them poise." "Yeah, well that's real interesting." I cleared my throat and finally got to the point of our visit. "Can you give us some idea of Kate Blair's whereabouts?" He rubbed his double chin and looked up at the ceiling. Then he looked at Margo and shook his head. "I haven't seen her since --- oh --- September fifteenth maybe." "As a model or as a receptionist?" Margo's tone was pure hostility. "Both. She worked and did some ballet a half day, then she worked on her modeling the other half." John rubbed his chins again then continued evenly. "Kate Blair is a fine prospect. I think she had --- " He caught himself and cleared his throat. " --- has a great and promising future." I took out a pencil and a notebook. Margo and I again glanced at each other. Her eyes screamed out ‘LIAR!’ "I'm sure she’ll turn up." Then he cleared his throat again. "Have you gone to the police?" The craving for nicotine was becoming more intense. "No!" Margo answered sharply. "Why do you think I hired a private investigator?" John started to protest but Margo cut him off. "Kate is a very private person. We prefer to investigate on our own --- at least for now." I liked Margo's choice of the words 'we' and 'our'. "Well --- " He stammered. " --- I understand, but --- " "You don't understand!" Margo snapped. There were several seconds of rough silence. I felt I had to break the tension if we were going to get anywhere. So I asked inanely, "Are your male dancers straight?" His smile faded. He was offended. Tough shit! Margo turned her head. His eyes widened and his jaw stiffened. "All of our dancers are heterosexual!" He said it proudly and defensively. "I withdraw the question." I sat back and folded my hands. After an uncomfortable pause, Margo, in full grasp of her composure, leaned in toward Carver and asked point blank, "Are you sleeping with my sister?" I was afraid to move. John's head jerked and his glasses almost fell off his nose. He glared first at me then at Margo. He looked like he'd been stabbed in the groin. "I am a happily married man with two grown children, Ms. Blair." His voice cracked. "I think your snide remark is totally inappropriate!" He stood and his glasses almost fell off his nose again. "And if it were true --- which it is not, it would be none of your damn business!" "My sister is missing." Margo stood to face Carver and almost knocked the chair over. "And I'm making it my business!" I could almost see the heat rising between them. Carver walked briskly to the door and threw it open. Then he stood by it waiting for us to leave. His face was the same color as the carpet and his breathing was erratic and heavy. We left quickly, and he slammed the door shut. The blond jumped, then pushed her paperwork to the side. I don't know if she was startled by our sudden appearance or by the slamming of the door. We walked by her and nodded indifferently. Margo opened the front door. I stepped into the open doorway then turned back to the blond. Her face displayed both fear and confusion. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something fishy was going on here. I walked to the blond and asked quietly, "Just how well do you know Kate Blair?" My tone said 'don't lie to me'. "Like I said before," She began to shift nervously in her chair. "not too well." "And you last saw her --- when?" "I --- I'd have to check my appointment book." I waited while she flipped the pages. "It looks like --- sometime in the middle of September." I peeked at Margo, who was standing in the doorway with her arms folded. I lowered my voice some more and put both hands on the desk, leaning in close. "Do you and John Carver ever --- go out?" The color in her face disappeared. "I --- I don't think I should comment on that." "Okay." I could see Margo in the doorway leaning toward us and listening as I pushed on. "Do you know if Kate and John ever --- " Carver suddenly materialized. The blond didn't see him. Before she could respond, Carver interrupted in a booming warlike voice. "You don't have to answer that!" I looked up. He was in a rage. His eyes were wide and his face was redder than ever. "Now," he roared, "if there is anything else --- " I hesitated. It infuriated him even more. "I think not." I said mildly. Then I bowed to the blond and left. Margo was one step ahead of me. Outside, we stopped next to the car. "I told you, Margo, you're too emotional to ask questions. You should have left it to me." "Okay, Sherlock. How would you have approached him about his relationship with Kate?" "With a little more tact, first of all." She smiled smugly. "Oh right! Like --- are any of your dancers queer?" I laughed. "I thought things were a wee bit tense. I was just filling space, okay?" I opened the car door. We both stood silently looking at the building just as we had when we entered it. "Well --- " She took a deep breath."--- is there any doubt that he's sleeping with Kate?" "None." I lit up a cigarette. "Nor is there any doubt about him and that blond receptionist." We looked at each other a moment. Then I took a deep drag, careful to blow the smoke away from her and crushed the cigarette under my heel. We got into the car and I slipped behind the wheel. I didn't start the car at first as I watched her stare into space. Tears ran down her cheek. "You're afraid." I tried to read her thoughts and be consoling. I wanted to comfort her. She sighed again and nodded slowly. "Yes. I am very much afraid." * VIII Kate Blair’s home was located on the far west side of Pattersday, Ohio, a small secluded village nine miles from Columbus. The thirty-year-old house was made of stone and stucco with a green shingle roof supporting a large screened-in porch on one side. There was very little lawn, but what little there was, was meticulously weeded and professionally manicured. Along the short stone walk from the sidewalk to the front door and all around the house were miniature evergreens all neatly clipped and punctuated with well-kept azalea beds in full bloom. On one side of the house was a huge empty lot. On the other side was a large white frame surrounded by oak trees. Across the street was a string of condominiums that had just been built and according to a large sign on the center unit, occupancy was due to begin in four to six months. The streets and sidewalks were especially clean with barely a hint of any sort of debris. Except for an occasional bark or the sound of a passing car, the entire area was unusually quiet. And considering Margo's description of Kate's desire for solitude, this peaceful existence came as no surprise. I parked Margo's Nissan on the street directly under a sign that said: NO PARKING 9--11. "It's two minutes after eleven." Margo said, looking at her watch and reading my mind. She wore a loose fitting green dress and thin windbreaker. Her hair was pulled back in a short pony tail, and as usual she had on no make-up. Her bracelet and watch were her only jewelry. "But they don't ticket you here anyway." She continued. "There were too many complaints from the local residents." The scent of Giorgio suddenly attacked me. I caught her eye again but this time she turned away. "I have a key to Kate's house and she has a key to mine." She said it almost apologetically. "You don't have to explain." I said. "She's your sister." I put my hand on hers. "You sure you want to do this?" I asked. Her response was immediate. "Yes." I stopped abruptly. “You know my friend, Nick Foley, is an expert at this sort of thing. Maybe we should first ask him --- “ She turned to me quickly, cutting me off. “”We don’t need Nick Foley!” “Well, it’s just that --- “ “Look, Manny.” Her gaze was intense. It was the same one I gave my brother-in-law whenever I saw him slither out of the house to meet one of his lovers. “I’m going inside. You coming or not?” I took a deep breath and nodded resignedly. “Okay.” “I need your strength. So don’t fink out on me.”
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