Read Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon Online

Authors: Donna Andrews

Tags: #Women detectives, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Langslow; Meg (Fictitious character), #Women Sleuths, #Fiction, #Humorous, #Psychotherapists, #Receptionists, #Computer games

Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon (6 page)

BOOK: Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon
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„The one who tried to pass herself off as a copier repair person?“ Liz asked.

„I hadn't heard about that one, but probably.“

„Fan?“ the chief asked. „What do you mean by fan?“
*
„A gaming fan,“ I explained. He still looked blank. Apparently I needed to start further back.

„Mutant Wizards makes games,“ I said.

„Interactive multimedia entertainment,“ liz corrected.

„Computer games,“ I continued. „Three or four of them, though the only one anyone ever pays much attention to is our one phenomenally successful game called Lawyers from Hell.“

„Lawyers from Hell,“ the chief said with a guffaw. „Damn! You sure got that – “

Liz sighed. The chief started.

„I mean that sure is a peculiar title for a game,“ he finished, rather awkwardly.

„It's a peculiar game,“ I said. „My brother invented it. Anyway, the reason you had so much trouble clearing the staff out of here so you could investigate is that we're on a very tight deadline to release a new game.“

„A new version,“ liz said.

„Right, new version – the aptly though unoriginally titled Lawyers from Hell II. It's going to be bigger, better, more exciting, more complicated, more realistic, more imaginative, more everything than the original Lawyers from Hell. Mutant Wizards has been saying that for months now. But we haven't given out any specific details about
how
it's bigger, better, et cetera. And mat's driving the fans nuts.“

„Our computer security staff has logged thousands of attempts to break into our system,“ liz said. „Fortunately they're highly qualified individuals.“

„The main qualification seems to be that they have to be
paranoid as rabid wolverines, to the point that they wouldn't trust their own mothers,“ I added. „And these guys are; they're very good. So the fans have resorted to good old-fashioned corporate espionage methods. They try to sneak in.“

„To find out about this game?“ the chief asked.

„Exactly,“ I said. „I guess they hope to get some advance information about the game or maybe even steal a prototype. That's also one of the reasons we have a stupid, old-fashioned switchboard,“ I added with a glance at that much-loathed object. „To try to screen out as many nuisance calls as possible.“

„So you think one of these fans could have committed the murder?“

„I have no idea,“ I said. „But you were asking about suspicious characters hanging around the office. You want suspicious characters, we've got 'em. Disgruntled ex-employees, demented game fans – oh, and don't forget the biker,“ I added, looking at Liz.

„Biker?“ the chief said.

„This guy we keep seeing hanging around the parking lot at night,“ I explained. „He's wearing what looks like a motorcycle gang outfit – you know, greasy jeans, heavy boots, ragged T-shirt, denim vest with some kind of lurid painting on the back.“

„And tattoos,“ Liz said, shuddering.

„Yes, he's covered with tattoos,“ I said. „And hair – long hair and a bushy beard. And he's about six and a half feet tall and built like a linebacker.“

„We'll keep our eyes peeled,“ the chief said. „Has he accosted anyone? Caused any trouble?“

„I've only seen him standing around at the edge of the parking lot,“ I said. „But that makes me nervous.“

„I haven't heard of any problems,“ Liz said. „Yet.“

„Okay,“ the chief said. „Now let me take you through this
list of visitors – I want to see if any of them need to be investigated.“

There were only a dozen visitors on the day's list, and except for the hardware repairman who'd come at eight to fix a rebellious printer, they were all patients who had appointments with one or another of the six therapists.

„I'm afraid you've lost me there,“ the chief said. „I don't understand why you have these six therapists on staff.“

„They're not on staff,“ I said.

„Miserable squatters,“ Liz muttered through her teeth.

„They were here when we came,“ I explained.

„We tried to convince them that staying wasn't a viable option,“ Liz said. „That their very differing business requirements were going to make coexistence quite difficult: So far they have chosen to stay.“

„Can you blame them?“ I asked. „I mean, where else are they supposed to go? You know how hard it was for Mutant Wizards to find this space.“

„So other than the shared office space, there's no connection,“ the chief said. „No reason for them to interact with the deceased.“

Liz and I looked at each other.

„No logical reason,“ I said. „But they did interact, thanks to Ted.“

The chief sighed. „Why do I think you're going to tell me they had a reason to dislike him?“

„You must be getting a good picture of Ted's character,“ I said. „I don't think his constant practical jokes endeared him to them, but I think it was his bugging their offices that really ticked them off.“

„Bugging their offices?“

„We don't know for certain that was him,“ Liz said.

„Yeah, but do you have any doubt?“ I countered.

„He could get in a lot of trouble, doing that,“ the chief said.

„I'm well aware of that,“ Liz said. „I'm still dealing with the legal ramifications of that little escapade.“

I couldn't help thinking, not for the first time, that Liz did rather seem to enjoy having legal crises to deal with. Was she, perhaps, a bit of an adrenaline junkie? She was certainly a cutthroat negotiator, and I suspected she'd be a pretty sharp litigator if the occasion arose.

„Are the therapists suing you?“ the chief asked.

„They threatened to,“ Liz said. „Fortunately, because of the danger of industrial espionage, we'd arranged for a weekly sweep by a security firm to detect electronic surveillance devices.“

„So they found the bug?“ the chief asked.

„No,“ I said. „We found the bug because Ted – “

„Or whoever planted it,“ Liz corrected.

„Or whoever planted it gave in to the temptation to broadcast from one of his microphones over the office announcement system,“ I said. „That shut things down pretty quickly.“

„However, the weekly security inspection enables me to demonstrate that the firm took the appropriate action to prevent electronic surveillance and cannot be held responsible for the bugging incident,“ Liz said.

„That's nice,“ the chief said. „But I guess the shrinks have to stay on my suspect list for now.“

„Meg,“ came Dad's voice from the office door. „The medical examiner's here!“

I should have known Dad would manage to attach himself to the medical examiner. He had stuck his bald head through the partially opened office and was looking steadily at us with a deceptively innocent look on his face. You'd think he had no interest whatsoever in the corpse that was still reposing on
top of the mail cart – unless, like me, you knew what excellent peripheral vision he had.

„Shall I bring him in?“

The chief nodded and made a little shooing motton at Liz and me.

„Let's move out in the hall, shall we, and let the medical gentlemen do their job.“

„Fine,“ Liz said. „Better yet, unless you need me for something, I'd just as soon not hang around in the hall while they work.“

„That's fine,“ the chief said, nodding. „But if you could stay down there in the parking lot…“

„Understood,“ Liz said. I could see her pulling her cell phone out of her purse as she crossed the lobby to the stairs.

Apparently Dad had managed to attach himself to the ME's entourage. At least he stayed behind in the reception area when the chief and I moved out into the hall. I made a mental note to avoid having dinner with Dad. Let him spoil someone else's appetite with all the grisly forensic details.

The chief was still quizzing me about the therapists' patients when the young technician stepped out into the hall.

„Chief,“ he said. „What do you make of this? We found it when we moved the body.“

I recognized the lethal little circle of metal he was holding up on one latex-gloved hand. It was a
shuriken.

Admin

 

„A what?“ the chief asked.

„A
shuriken“
I repeated, and spelled it out this time.

The technician was opening up a baggie in which to store his find. Okay, it was probably some kind of official evidence collection container, but it looked like a baggie to me.

„Shuriken,“
the chief said, nodding. „That's those things martial arts people are always throwing around.“

„Not throwing around very much, unless they're either quite advanced or morbidly fascinated with self-mutilation,“ I said. „You could slice your fingers off on that thing and hardly even notice till they're on the floor.“

„If it's sharpened,“ the chief said.

As if on cue, the technician slid the
shuriken
into the baggie. It sliced right through the bottom and thunked to a halt in the carpet, about three inches from the chief's left boot.

„It's sharpened,“ I said.

The chief looked at the technician, eyes narrowed. The technician avoided his boss's stare as he fished another baggie out of the pocket of his lab jacket, pried the
shuriken
out of the carpet, and placed it, more carefully, in the baggie.

„Interesting,“ the chief said.

„Very interesting,“ I said. „You don't usually see them that well made; most of the ones you could buy ready-made, at
least around here, are cheap, flimsy pieces of junk that wouldn't hold an edge like that.“

„You can buy those things?“ the technician asked.

„At any martial arts supply store. They're illegal in a lot of states, but Virginia's not one of them. Still, since Ted appears to have been strangled, does it have anything to do with anything?“

„You let us figure that out,“ the chief said. „So… all you folks do around here is make games?“

Did this have something to do with the
shuriken,
or was he deliberately changing the subject?

„That's right,“ I said.

„The kind where you shoot a bunch of space aliens and all that?“

„No, Lawyers from Hell isn't a live-action combat game; more of a combination role-playing and simulation game.“

„You don't say,“ the chief said, looking over his glasses at me.

„I should go into a little more detail?“

„You should go into a lot more detail if you want me to understand it.“

„Want us to explain it, Meg?“ I heard Frankie say with characteristic enthusiasm.

I glanced over to see several heads peering out of the stairwell doorway. I gathered that the police had forbidden anyone to step out into the hall, since none of them could possibly see much from the doorway – with the possible exception of Frankie, who by standing on one leg and raising the other behind him for balance, had managed to cantilever his entire body out into the hallway without breaking the letter of the law.

„Sure,“ I said. „Why not?“

Why not became quite apparent after Frankie had been talking a few minutes. I was sure another programmer would find Frankie's explanation fascinating – the heads peering out of the stairwell seemed to, at any rate – but the chief's eyes were glazing over. Hell, my eyes were glazing over, and I already knew how to play. Why couldn't Frankie just say that Lawyers from Hell lets you pretend to be a lawyer and defend or prosecute the accused in a growing library of simulated trials?

„Frankie?“

I wasn't the only one relieved to see Jack Ransom stepping out of the stairwell.

„Go see Luis, would you?“ Jack said.

„But I'm explaining Lawyers from HeU to the chief,“ Frankie said.

„That's okay,“ the chief said, quickly. „I think I understand it now.“

„I'll take care of it,“ Jack said.

Frankie retreated to the stairway, looking crushed. Jack and the chief sized each other up.

„Ever played any computer games?“ Jack asked.

„No,“ the chief said. „Seen my granddaughter play one where this little cartoon character on the screen kills trolls and dragons.“

BOOK: Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon
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