Another Senseless Killing (9) I knew Carver was staring at us right through the closed door. I looked around. Brenda wasn’t at her desk. Too bad! Outside the building, I lit up and took a long deep drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs. "Did you catch Carver's expression when I showed him Warner's photo?" Nick asked. "Hard to miss. That lying sack of shit!" I exhaled slowly. "I'll tell you something, Manny." Foley took out a cigar and stuck it in his mouth. " "There is something very fishy about John Carver's School For Models!" * XV "I still don't see why I had to come to Kate’s house with you." I said "I told you, Manny," Nick said following close behind. "I enjoy your company." “Nick, you’re full of it.” I took a key out of my pocket. “And besides, I was just here.” "I know." Nick tapped me on the shoulder. "Would you like to open the door and let us in?" “Okay. But I’m doing this under protest.” I hesitated a moment before inserting Margo's key in the lock. “When I was here, I looked everywhere. I couldn’t find shit.” "I know. You told me." He tapped me on the shoulder again. "Now move." I turned the knob and the door opened effortlessly. "And I know your boys were here, dusting for prints, looking for clues and such --- they couldn't find shit either." I closed the door gently behind us. "And knowing how well your boys search, I'm surprised you're not satisfied." I took a final drag of my cigarette and crushed it in the ashtray in the family room. "I know. But I always like to see for myself." Nick turned to me and smiled. "An old habit of an old cop." He followed me around the house, through the kitchen and into the family room. He picked up the same knickknacks and accessories that I had. He looked behind the same furniture, in the same drawers, and under the same rugs, shrugging everything off just as I had done. I then led him downstairs to the rec-room. He pointed to the forty inch TV. "That damn set had to have cost at least two grand." Then he stopped and looked around casually. "This whole place is nothing but money." I led him upstairs to the bedrooms. We went through the first two quickly. I paused before the third bedroom and took out another key. "I've saved the best for last." I put the key in the lock and it stuck. I jiggled the key for several seconds before I realized that I'd inserted it upside down. "If it don't fit don't force it." Nick said looking over my shoulder. "It fits. I just --- " I pulled it out. "Ok. Let's try it again." "How come you're so jittery?" Nick said, still right behind me. "I am not jittery!" I said defensively. "I just don't like invading the privacy of anyone with the word 'late' in front of their name. And this is my second visit, yet!" "You're a detective, Manny. It's okay." I finally opened the door and the sweet aroma smacked us both in the face like a blowtorch. "Jesus Christ!" Nick roared. "What is that awful odor?" "Incense." I answered. "And most people wouldn't consider it so awful." "I guess I'm not most people." Nick took out a clean handkerchief and blew his nose. "Can we have some light please?" I casually walked up to the cylindrical lamp and rubbed it lightly but confidently. The erotic blue light came on. Foley walked up to it slowly until his nose was almost touching it. "What the hell is this?" I patted Nick on the back. "That, my friend, is a one-of-a-kind." "I sure as hell wouldn't doubt that!" "This is a true phallic symbol." I said. "Really." Nick spoke to the lamp, shaking his head in amazement. "In other words," I added, "It's a big dick!" Nick looked at me and stared. "I know what it is. I may be old but I'm not that old." Then he walked over to the bed and ran his hand over the red satin bedspread. "Mirrored walls. Mirrored ceilings. Incense. Christ!" He took out a flashlight and shined it around the dimly lit bedroom. Then he began tapping on the walls, one mirrored panel at a time. "This isn't a bedroom. It's a damn --- " "Nick, what are you doing?" "Something I learned as a rookie cop. Many times these mirrored panels --- " He stopped a moment and began to pound harder in one spot. Then he took out a penknife and pried open one of the panels. "Voila!" "Nick, you never cease to amaze me." He put the knife away and took out a clean handkerchief from his vest pocket. "Elementary, my dear Watson." He reached inside the wall and pulled out a small box. We looked at each other for a second before he opened it slowly. We looked inside the box, then we looked at each other again. "Prophylactics!" Nick almost shouted. Then he shined his flashlight into the opening again and this time brought out a small yellow object. "Now what?" I asked. Nick studied it for a few seconds. "It looks like a --- cufflink. A gold cufflink." "How the hell did your boys miss all this?" I asked. "Good question. I'll contact the crime lab. Looks like they got some more work to do." "I wonder if the cufflink is engraved." I said. Nick held it up to the flashlight. "I can't tell. We need more light." We went downstairs and I turned on the bright light in the family room. It was more normal and less erotic. We both squinted at the tiny gold piece of jewelry. "I think it’s engraved." Nick said, holding it carefully in his handkerchief. "Except the writing is too small to see." He put the cufflink next to the Trojans in his jacket pocket. Then he put his handkerchief back into his vest pocket. "I'll give these dainty items to ballistics." "You think they missed anything else?" I asked. "I sure as hell hope not. But I'll have them go over the place again, anyway." Nick paused then added. "I can't believe she had a box of Trojans hidden away like that." "Maybe she was a girl scout. Be prepared." "Very funny, Manny." he answered. "But why hide them?" I shrugged. "I don't know." Then Nick took one final look around the room and rubbed his chin. "Well, I guess that about does it for this place." “I’m ready.” "So, I suppose we should talk to that next door neighbor you told me about." Nick said. “Why bother?” “Why not?” “Because the chances of this woman helping us are about the same as the Browns making the play-offs.” Nick thought a moment. “I’d still like to try.” I shrugged. “Suit yourself.” We left the house and I locked the door behind us. "I just hope you have more luck with her than I did." "I'll give it a shot. You got the photos with you?" I took an envelope out of my windbreaker and handed it to Nick. "You're not working with an amateur, you know." Nick smiled and patted my arm. "I know." We walked up to the Bowden residence and I knocked twice. "Now don't forget what I told you about this dingbat." We waited. I knocked again. "When Margo and I were here before, she --- " The door slowly opened and Martha Bowden appeared. Her hair was in curlers and she had on no makeup. She wore a ratty pink terry cloth robe and no shoes. Martha Bowden looked like a relic. "Ms. Bowden." Nick flashed his badge. "I'm Lieutenant Foley. You remember Detective Gold." She smiled and nodded. I wondered if indeed she did remember me. "May we come in?" Nick was the epitome of chivalry when it was needed. A car sped past. We all stopped to look. I wanted to yell, “It's a twenty-five mile per hour speed limit, you dickhead!” I didn't. We turned our attention back to Martha. She smiled politely. "My house is a mess. Why don't we talk out here?" Her smile widened. "And it's such a nice day." Foley and I glanced at each other. He took a deep breath. "Fine." he said, returning her smile. I lit up a Camel as Nick handed her the photos. "Have you ever seen any of these men before?" Martha took the pictures in her hand and studied each one carefully. Then she looked at Foley. "Don't you love azaleas?" Nick's smile changed rapidly into a frown. "Excuse me?" "I merely wondered if --- " "Ms. Bowden." Nick cut her off and repeated the question, speaking softly, slowly and condescendingly. "I want to know if you recognize any of these men." She took a long hard look at the photos. I took a long hard drag of my Camel. "I've seen --- " She pointed to Rowland's picture. " --- him." "This man is Herb Rowland." Nick said. "Does the name mean anything to you?" Martha rubbed her forehead, looking at the empty condos across the street. "No. I don't know him by name. But I did see him next door --- once or twice." She looked at his picture again. "I remember he --- he yelled at her. I didn't think it was very nice to --- " "When was this?" Nick asked. She didn't respond. He rephrased the question. "When did you last see them together?" She thought a few seconds. "I --- I don't remember." "Ms. Bowden." I've known Nick long enough to know when he was running out of patience. That made two of us. "Have you ever seen any of the men in theses other photos?" He put Rowland's picture in his pocket and held up the other three. She stared at them for several seconds. Finally, she pointed to Warner's. "Maybe --- him." "You think you recognize this man?" I would have been in my car by now, but Nick kept plugging away. "Maybe." She stared blankly at Foley. "But I'm not home much you see --- and my mind doesn't work like it once did." Nick and I exchanged another tired glance. Then I flicked my cigarette onto the lawn. "I wouldn't want to make a mistake." she said. "It's quite all right." I spoke soothingly. "We wouldn't want you to make a mistake." "This man's name is Curt Warner." Nick said. "Can you tell us anything about him, or about his relationship with the young lady next door.?" She hesitated, then shook her head slowly. "I --- I don't think so." "You're sure." He added. She nodded absently, then looked past us, staring into space. "Ms. Bowden." Nick forced a smile as he put the photos away. "Is there anything else you can tell us that might be of help? Anything." She shook her head slowly. "Other visitors, maybe." Nick added. Again she shook her head. "Did you hear anything suspicious? See anything out of the ordinary --- anything at all?" I couldn't help admiring Nick's perseverance. Martha smiled at us. "She seemed like such a nice young lady. I didn't see her all that much. But whenever I did she --- she always smiled at me." "Well, Ms. Bowden." Nick cleared his throat and took out a cigar. "Thank you for your time." "Would you gentlemen like some azaleas?" "No." I answered quickly for both of us. "Goodbye, Ms. Bowden." We turned to leave, but her words turned us around. "There is something else." "There is?" Nick asked hopefully. She bit her lower lip and furrowed her brow, deep in thought. "I --- I can't quite put my finger on it, but --- there is something --- something important, I believe." "Something you saw?" Nick's patience returned. "Something you heard?" "Both." The glassy stare disappeared. Martha suddenly sounded coherent. We waited patiently. "I --- I know it'll come to me --- eventually." Nick took the cigar out of his mouth and put it back in his vest pocket. "I'm sure it will." Nick and I exchanged another quick glance. "You call me when you think of it." Nick said as he handed Martha his card. "And we'll contact you if we need any more help." I added. Nick put a hand on my arm and guided me to the patrol car. "Let's hope we don't!" * XVI "What do you think of my paintings?" I asked proudly. Nick squinted at the oils. "Who the fuck is B. Jaseph?" "I bought them at a starving artist's sale last week. They're original oils." I continued to defend my cultural taste. "So what if the artist is unknown?" Nick shook his head, unimpressed at my bargain. "One day this artist may be famous --- who knows?" I shrugged. "It's an investment, okay?" Nick looked at me. "I'll take mutual funds." Then he added sympathetically, "But I admit, they do add some color." "Nick, I know you didn't come here to discuss art or to help me decorate." I sat down in my chair. "So tell me what brings you to this lavish ambiance." "I thought you'd like to hear about Morales' latest findings." "I'm listening." Nick sat down across from me. "Well, according to Juan and Doctor Ellman, who is a local but prominent ENT man, if you sniff enough of the white stuff, it destroys the lining of the inside of the nose. Teflon is used to reline it." "I guess I've never heard of it." "Truthfully, neither have I. But this ENT man did confirm Morales' diagnosis." "Morales' diagnosis being that the insides of Kate's nose was lined with Teflon." I said. "Yes. And according to Ellman, there are quite a few people on this planet with Teflon lined noses." Nick loosened his collar. "Also --- according to Ellman, this exotic procedure is very expensive. Thousands of dollars." "Any idea who did the surgery?" I asked. "No. But it doesn't matter. Apparently Kate had the money, so she could go anywhere she wanted." I shook my head slowly. "I can't believe that Margo's sister was a fucking druggie." "It sure looks that way." Nick drew the blind. Except for an occasional passing motorist, honk, or dog barking, the streets were quiet and deserted. "Considering Kate was such a private person, isn’t it possible that Margo didn’t know about the cocaine?" "Oh --- " Nick thought for several seconds. " --- I suppose it’s possible, but unlikely." I wasn't sure I wanted to hear that. "Margo once told me that Kate had spent most of her inheritance. If that's true, I wonder where the money for this operation came from." "Well --- " Nick thought some more. " --- we don't know how much money Kate really had." He walked away from the window. "But if Kate didn't pay the bill, I'm sure Margo did." "With her money or Kate's money?" Nick shrugged. "What's the difference?" There followed a long silence. Nick broke the spell. "Manny. Do you think your client had anything to do with any of this?" "Margo?" I suddenly became defensive. "No way! She adored her sister." "I see." Nick sat back down. "I think we should concentrate our efforts on legitimate suspects like Rowland and Carver." "Manny, as far as I'm concerned, anyone associated with Kate Blair in any way is a suspect until proven innocent." "But her own sister? Come on!" "I can't help it, Manny. I think like a cop --- an old one at that. Yes. Even her sister." "Nick, what possible motive could she have had?" Foley thought a moment. Then he shook his head slowly. "That I don't know." "I think you're way off base this time, Nick." Nick sat forward in his seat. "Manny, I think it's time we questioned her." "I'm not sure she's up to it." Nick pointed his finger at me as a parent would do with a child. "Manny, this is a murder investigation. And dammit, Margo had as much opportunity to kill her sister as Rowland or Carver." "Nick,. I refuse to believe that Margo had anything to do with Kate's death." "You can't bury your head in the sand, Manny." "I know, but --- " I began to pull on my beard. "Why don't you talk to her." Nick said compassionately. "Or better still, how about we'll question her together --- friendly like." Then he produced a broad smile. I had no response. Foley leaned in toward me again. "Manny --- " I put my hand up. "Nick, don't lecture me, please. I’m sure she wasn't involved." I took a deep breath. “At least --- I hope she wasn’t.” "And what if she was?" I was getting tired. "Then I'll have to deal with it --- won't I?" "Manny, we have to question her." Nick kept up the pressure. "There is nothing to discuss." There was another long silence. This time I broke the spell. "Let's change the subject, okay?" Nick started to respond but didn't. I continued. "What about the tire tracks?" "The only thing we know is that the tracks came from a large vehicle." "A recreational vehicle?" I asked. " Like a Blazer?" Nick smiled. "I know. Carver drives a Blazer. But those tire tracks could fit a dozen different trucks." "Oh." I couldn't hide my disappointment. Nick looked up at the clock. "I just remembered. I have to call the chief of police in Saint Paul." He took out his small notebook. "A --- Lieutenant --- Rupert Woodling." Then he pointed to the phone. "May I?" "Be my guest." "I'll use the city code." "Is this about Warner?" I asked. "I think so. I'm hoping so anyway." Foley took out a plastic card and began to dial. I got out of my chair and walked to the window. Two young children were running with a black Labrador. A small school bus stopped to let them cross the street. Otherwise, there was no one else around.
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