Death of a Jaded Samurai (3 page)

"Don't worry. I plan to do just that. First, I need that list and a chat with your Sensei Mick." Thayer acknowledged Fabio with a frown.

"Bad news, people. The ME was in a car accident." Fabio leaned on the counter. "His office gave the okay for a local to come and look at the body. Doc Graham's on his way."

Thayer snorted. "Doc's a local family physician, not a medical examiner."

"I'm aware of that," Fabio said. "Would you rather wait around for an extra two or three hours until they find someone to send out from Buffalo? Didn't think so." He turned to Gilda. "Did you happen to go down the hallway at all?"

She remembered the blood and the condition of the back room. "Um. Yeah. It looks like there was a scuffle back there."

Thayer raised both eyebrows. "Why would you say that?"

"Because the curtains are torn down, and there's blood everywhere," Fabio said.

Gilda winced. "I didn't touch anything. One of our students had a nose bleed last night, so some of it may be from her. I didn't get a chance to totally clean up before I left. Mick and a couple other black belts stayed to train, so I went home." Thayer would think she was guilty for sure, the way she was babbling.

"If the body's in the gym—"

"The dojo." She averted her gaze.

"The dojo." His nostrils flared. "I thought you said you hadn't searched the building. What made you check the changing room?"

"I wanted to make sure no one else was…hurt." She paused. "There was so much blood, it looked like someone else might be bleeding too. I thought there might have been a fight or something."

"Good guess," Fabio said. "You happen to know who those somebodies might have been?"

She bit her lower lip. "No."

"Who stayed to train last night?" Fabio asked.

Mick reappeared from his office, disheveled and upset, probably after overhearing every word she'd said. He ignored Thayer and shot Fabio a hard look that said more than her stunned brain could translate. He turned and focused his bloodshot eyes on her. "Gilda, honey, I'm going out for a few minutes. The others are meeting me at the coffee shop. I need to give them the bad news."

She assumed "the others" were the black belts.

Thayer raised a hand and narrowed the gap between him and Mick. "That's not a good idea. We'll interview them later. For now, we need to ask you a few questions, and I want you to take a seat so I can—"

"Café Beanz?" Gilda asked. Mick's abrupt change of plans was nothing new. She was sure he had some sort of attention disorder, and nothing short of Thayer drawing his gun and handcuffing him to the doorknob would keep Mick there. Over the past couple years, she'd tried to learn to adapt.

"Yeah. The police won't let them in here. Stick around until they're done. Don't lock up. I can't find my keys. Thanks. Fabio, Thayer, I'll be in touch." Mick flew out the door without waiting for an answer.

Thayer sputtered and reached for his cuffs, but Fabio waved a hand. "He'll be back."

Gilda frowned. Of course she'd stay. She didn't have much of a life anyway. Not since two years ago when she caught Thayer in several lies, then found him in a compromising position with a young, blonde barista from Café Beanz, Mick's current destination.

Thayer grimaced. "Is he always like that?"

"Impatient and in a rush? Ever since I've known him," Fabio said.

"Yeah," Gilda said. "I don't think the caffeine and sugar he lives on helps."

"Probably not. It never has before." Fabio sighed. "Since he's gone, maybe you can tell me who stayed late to train last night."

She focused on the computer and typed in her passwords automatically. "Mick, Walter, and Razi, another one of our black belts. Mick wants to do a black belt grading in November. Razi and Walter wanted to go for their third level."

"We need an officer to go after him and bring him back here for questioning," Thayer said.

"He'll be back. His car keys are on the floor under his desk." Fabio turned back to the crime scene.

Gilda had never thought to hide Mick's keys before to get his undivided attention for ten minutes. Tying him to a chair and gagging him, maybe.

"Is everything okay, Gilda?" Thayer almost sounded like he cared, but she knew from experience the tone was purely professional. An act for his colleagues. He must be up for a promotion.

"I'll get you a list of all our students." She grimaced.

Unfortunately, time didn't wound all heels. After the breakup, while Thayer had hit the gym and thrived socially, Gilda became withdrawn and hid behind her job, her garden, and reading mystery novels while eating chocolate chunk ice cream. Starting to work for Mick was the catalyst to bringing her out of her shell. She wished she could crawl back into that shell now.

"Both your students and all the instructors." He leaned on the counter and peered down on her. "You don't have to work in a place like this. There are jobs elsewhere, you know."

"Jealous as always. You still hate me being around all the testosterone and chiseled jaws." Gilda nearly burst out laughing. Aside from Mick and Razi Mauli, no one even came close to that description. "I happen to like working here. If it wasn't for me, everyone would kill each other, and this place would fall apart." She stopped and covered her mouth with both hands. "I didn't mean it like that."

He appeared amused. "First, I'm going to check on the others, and then you and I will sit down to discuss what you just said. I think you know a lot more than you're letting on. Maybe you're even the one who killed Walter. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't put it past you to stab a man in the heart."

"Nope." Her face and temper were on the verge of bursting into flame. "I'd just throw him into a fifty-pound bag of coffee beans and leave him lying half naked on the floor with a cheap floozy and a mild concussion."

Thayer reddened. "I told you. That was all a misunderstanding. You overreacted and embarrassed me in front of the whole town."

"Whatever you say. Your girlfriend was the one who talked to the newspapers, not me."

When he stormed away, Gilda tried to focus. On the student list, there were almost a hundred names, including hers. Her gut told her the perpetrator was on the short list. There were five names on the black belt list: Sensei Mick, Walter Levy, Xavier Wyndham, Razi Mauli, and Erik Cadell. She shuddered as she contemplated drawing a line through Walter's name, just to save the police—in this case Thayer and Fabio—the trouble. In the end, she couldn't bring herself to do so.

She drew in a deep, bracing breath, and with her hands shaking, she took a copy of both lists to Thayer. "Do you need anything else? Coffee? Tea? An attitude adjustment?"

"Yeah. What time do you normally start work?"

"Eleven thirty. We have classes at noon every day. I missed class today because I had brunch with Marion, then a doctor's appointment that ran late. I called to say I would be here by one, then grabbed a tea at Café Beanz before I came in, which is still probably sitting outside the front door because I forgot about it when I realized the door was unlocked."

"Fascinating." Thayer ran a hand through his hair. "Who answered the phone?"

"No one. Class had already started, so I left a message. Sensei
Mick checks the machine all the time anyway." Great. Now she'd made Mick look guilty just for listening to her phone message. "I mean, I don't know who actually heard it."

Anyone who was in the school, within ten feet of the phone, who was looking for an opportunity, and had a motive.

Hours later, Gilda rambled around the front lobby, gnawing on her fingernails. No one nail in particular; they were all fair game. The police were gone, their evidence and half the school bagged and tagged.

Who would want Walter dead? Such a quiet, middle-aged, unassuming man. Sure, he'd made his share of mistakes. Everyone had, but what could he have done that was so bad someone would kill him?

Marion had called several times during her shift to make sure Gilda was okay and offered to bring dinner, but nothing she mentioned sounded remotely edible. Gilda's stomach still struggled to digest the weak tea with sugar Fabio got one of the younger officers to bring her.

Doc Graham, who said he was reluctantly taking over in the medical examiner's absence, certainly hadn't looked too happy to be there either. Surrounded by the aroma of pipe tobacco, he gave her a one-armed hug and told her to call if she needed a friend, the name of a therapist, or some antidepressants.

She'd finally managed to convince Thayer and Fabio she'd be fine to wait alone for the cleaning crew. She promised not to touch anything, and no one would hurt her, especially since she had a half-dozen black belts on speed dial. Of course, that hadn't helped Walter, who was gone with help from the coroner and a thick, black body bag, which had finally hidden his earthly remains from her view.

"Where is everyone?" Mick strode through the front door.

She wiped away her tears. "They just left. Didn't you see the parade? Walter caught a lift with the guys from the morgue. Where were you? I've been texting you all afternoon." She sounded crass but no longer cared. How dare he leave her alone to deal with the police and a hundred parents' calls? Wasn't this
his
school?
His
business? After all, he was part owner and ran the day-to-day operations.

He flinched. "Your buddy Thayer grabbed me in the coffee shop and locked me in a room the size of a shoe box. My cell phone was detained by some lab guy, who now knows the phone numbers of you and every other woman in town. Anyway, I meant our students. Is anyone coming to class tonight?"

Her jaw dropped open. "Excuse me? Walter was murdered, and you're worried about class attendance? We need to clean up and replace mats before we can even
have
a class. The cleanup crew is coming soon, and they need someone to lock up later."

"They took our mats?" He stared. "Why would they do that?"

"It's called evidence," she said. "All the blood is a biohazard, and the mats have to be specially taken care of. A lot of other things went to the lab. At least this way
I
don't have to clean up all the mess."

Mick let out a long breath. His fingers drummed his left thigh, more nervous than he tried to let on. If he started to pace, she'd know to keep her distance.

"You're right. Did you post a sign to say we're closed?"

"On the front door. You walked right past it. I also changed the message on the answering machine and posted a message on our website and Facebook page." No concern. No compassion. Just commands. Demands. Ugh, why did she ever idolize him? In a bad situation, he folded and ran for the nearest coffee shop. Just like Thayer. She brushed that thought aside.

"Did you call the students who normally come tonight?" he asked.

Was he serious? "Only three. The rest called here to find out when the funeral is and make sure everyone else was okay."

"No doubt Marion already told everyone what happened."

Gilda shrugged. "So what if she did? That saved me some work."

He wandered into the dojo and knelt. There were only half the pale-green tatami mats inside than there were that morning. "If we call right away, our supplier might be able to ship us new ones by Tuesday."

"I already called," she said. "First of all, they don't have any in stock. They also want cash up front. It seems our credit is in question. Oh, and as of five, they closed for the long weekend."

"Since when do we have bad credit?" He stood and ran a hand through his thick, black hair. "We've always paid them up front."

"I don't know. Why don't you talk to them next week and straighten things out? They won't talk to me anymore. They want to talk to you."

"Fine. I think you're overreacting. Things can't be that bad. I'm sure you can straighten it out just as well as I can." He rolled his eyes.

"Trust me, I tried." When he headed for the changing area, Gilda stopped him. "Oh, I wouldn't go back there if I were you. It's not exactly clean."

Mick went anyway. "What the bloody hell happened back here?"

"Good choice of words. Offhand, I'd say a fight," she said and peered around him. "A pretty nasty one."

He snorted. "Good guess, Sherlock. Now tell me who Walter fought with."

Gilda wished she could. She didn't want to let on she suspected him. Actually, him, Erik, Razi, and Xavier—all the remaining black belts. Under the circumstances, she was wise to keep her mouth shut until the police could prove who killed Walter, since all four of them were capable of killing her with the flick of a pinkie finger.

"Where are the changing room curtains?" Mick asked.

Only two curtains remained on the floor. The rest were in police custody. To think the curtains were under arrest rather than being checked for evidence made her smile for a second before her eyes welled up again. "Thayer took them in for interrogation."

"Funny. We'll have to replace them before we can reopen." He knelt to examine a spot of blood already smeared by the forensics crew's swabs. "We also need to mop the floors and what's left of the mats."

"Like I said, Fabio called the biohazard team to come in and do a proper cleaning. We shouldn't even be back here. I only stayed until I could get hold of you."

Mick kicked a bench, which dented the wall and sent more debris onto the tiles.

Gilda thought something fell from beneath the bench onto the floor.

"Why did this have to happen now? Yoshida
arrives on Tuesday for a training session. There's no way I can replace all the mats and clean this place up before then. Not with the long weekend. Gilda, I need you to pull some overtime. We'll have to pull up all the mats and get some cheap ones at the hardware store."

She widened her eyes. "How am I supposed to get a load of mats here? You know I don't have a car. Besides, it's the long weekend, and the school's closed Saturday, and I have to catch a bus to Erie after classes tonight."

"Yeah? Well, I was due in Detroit an hour ago." He opened a utility closet and pulled out the mop and bucket. "We don't have time to wait for some cleaning crew. I'll get the cleaner. You get to work. At least we can get rid of the rest of the blood before it starts to smell."