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Authors: Waverly Curtis

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Chapter 43
I picked Pepe up and headed for the door. Siren Song trailed at my heels, making squeaking noises. I presumed she did not want us to leave.
To my surprise, Luis was lurking in the hall.
“I'm sorry about what happened to your sister,” I said. “This must be very difficult for you.”
“It is hard,” he said. “I don't believe my sister would do this.”
“I understand,” I said.
“No, you don't.” He looked angry. “Mandy is ambitious and she's greedy. She likes nice things, expensive things, things she can't afford. But she is not violent. She would never hurt anyone, especially not someone she loved.”
“So she
was
having an affair with David?”
He shook his head with disgust. “No, that's not what I mean. He was like a father to her, to both of us. Our own dad died when we were young. Our mom couldn't speak English. There she was with two small children. I was eight, Manuela was six. My mother came to Seattle looking for work, and Mr. Tyler took us in. This was long before he married Rebecca.” His face soured as he mentioned her name.
“So you don't like her.”
“Believe me,” he said, “if you had to work for her, you would not like her either.” Hmm. That was too bad because I was, in a way, working for her.
“But the police have evidence against Mandy,” I said.
“She will be cleared!” Luis was firm in his conviction.
“Remind him about the glove!” said Pepe.
“Her DNA was on a glove that was recovered at the scene,” I said.
“Her DNA will be all over this house,” Luis said. “She often helped my mother with chores. My mother could not always keep up with Mrs. Tyler's demands. So she would sometimes ask Mandy to come over and help. Mandy hated to do it. She thought housework was beneath her but still it was family, and family is important.”
“And the gold pen?”
Luis looked chagrined. “That might be a problem. Mandy is totally capable of walking off with something like that. That's why Rebecca fired her.”
“So she used to work for Rebecca?”
“Yes, she danced with the dog, until Rebecca accused her of—well, of many things, but among them stealing a diamond collar that belonged to Siren Song.”
That was pathetic. What could Mandy do with a diamond dog collar? On the other hand, it was an absurdly expensive trinket for a dog.
As if he could hear my thoughts, Pepe said, “I used to have a diamond collar.”
“That's ridiculous,” I said.
“Yes, that's what we thought,” Luis said.
“And the shoe print?”
“Again, she was often here. Perhaps she was walking the dog.” Luis folded his arms over his chest. “I know they will not be able to hold her. She has done nothing wrong. My mother has some money saved. She will hire the best lawyer she can afford to clear Mandy's name.”
“Like Sherman Foot?” I was still annoyed that he would represent Mandy and Rebecca but not me.
“No!” Luis frowned. “Sherman was there because he was representing Stewart.”
“What does Stewart have to do with it?”
“Well, he bailed Mandy out, and then offered her a place to stay. He said that way he could keep an eye on her and guarantee that she did not flee the country.”
“I would think she would rather be with your mother.”
“No, the news cameras have been at my mother's door since late last night. It would not be good for Mandy to be there. Besides she wanted to get back to work.”
“Considering what has happened,” I said. “I'm surprised you're still working here.”
“Mrs. Tyler cannot function without help. And since she fired my mother, she needs me. Not that my mother would ever work for her again. She thinks Mrs. Tyler is wrong about Mandy. And she wants to hire you to find evidence to clear Mandy's name.”
“Why me?” Apparently she didn't realize that I was the reason Mandy was under suspicion in the first place.
“She says you are good at your job.”
I beamed. It was nice to be acknowledged.
“And you are the only private investigator we know.”
Well, that was less flattering.
“Mandy said she would be willing to talk to you.”
Really? I was surprised by that. But then again maybe Mandy didn't know the part I had played in her arrest either.
“I just spoke to her. She is eager to explain her side of the story.”
“Well—”
“She is my little sister. I have always been the one to protect her. Now, this is the only way I can help.”
“Well—”
“And if you need anything from me, if there is any investigating I can do here, just let know. I will be your eyes and ears in this household.”
“That could be helpful for us,” Pepe suggested. “We would know immediately if Siren Song was in danger! Until, of course, she comes to live with us.”
“That will never happen!” I said.
“What?” Luis looked at me with dismay.
“Yes, that would be great,” I said. “I'll go talk to Mandy.”
Chapter 44
“I do not like this.” Pepe glanced at me with worry in his eyes, then back at the road. “Do you not think it foolish to confront them—one an alleged murderer, the other an alleged Ponzi?”
“He's not a Ponzi,” I said to Pepe. “He's a swindler, a con artist—”

Un ladrón
.”
“Yes, if that means a criminal.”
“So I ask again. Why would we confront them?”
“Don't worry. I have backup.”
“Well, you can count on me, of course.”
“No, I mean Jimmy G. I'm going to call him and ask him to meet us.”
 
 
I had to wait until we arrived at our destination to make the call. It's illegal to talk on a cell phone while driving in Seattle and I didn't have a head set. Luckily Jimmy G. was in the office.
“Jimmy G. here!”
“Hello, it's Geri Sullivan.”
“Who?”
“I'm working for you.”
“Oh yeah, Jimmy G.'s secret operative!”
“Look, I need your help. I'm at your brother's house. I'm supposed to question his secretary. And I need backup.”
“What for?”
“In case something goes wrong.”
“Jimmy G. will be on the way!”
 
 
Pepe and I sat in the car watching the front of the house, waiting for Jimmy G. Nothing moved. All of the houses on the street had blank windows and empty driveways. It was as if the whole world had come to an end. No sign of life anywhere.
I tried to read the contract but the lines just swam in front of my eyes. Pepe was chattering away about strategies for promoting
The Pepe Sullivan Show
.
Fifteen minutes went by. A half hour. Rain pattered on the roof of the car. Even Pepe got bored after a while and curled up and took a nap. At one point, I thought I heard a strange thump, but I dismissed it as perhaps the thud of a branch against the roof, caused by the wind. Later I would regret that.
I decided to update the notes in my casebook. Except for this last interview with Mandy, it seemed all the loose ends were tied up. I still didn't understand why Mandy would kill David but a woman scorned can be a dangerous thing. That was why I needed backup.
About an hour later, Jimmy G. pulled up in a red Thunderbird convertible from the sixties. The muffler rumbled so loud it woke Pepe out of a sound sleep. He got up and looked out the window.
“Nice wheels!” he said. “But this hombre does not know how to care for such a classic car.” There were rust stains on the doors, and the convertible top was patched with silver duct tape.
Jimmy G. swung his long, lanky body out of his low-slung car, clapped his fedora on his head, and came strolling up to us.
“Sorry to be late, doll,” he said, “but Jimmy G. couldn't find his gun!”
“Well, then, how can you back me up?” I said.
“You don't pack any heat?” he asked with a swagger.
“No, I don't.”
“So what's the plan?”
“You're the expert! What do you think we should do?”
“I think you should knock on the front door while Jimmy G. goes around to the back, in case the suspects try to escape that way,” Pepe said.
“It's not like I think they will flee,” I said. “It's just that I don't want to walk into a trap.”
“Tell you what,” said Jimmy. “I'll stay outside and if I hear any signs of distress, I'll come to your aid.”
“Without a gun?”
“Jimmy G. can be intimidating when he wants,” he said.
I looked him over. He was dressed in a black-and-white houndstooth jacket, a maroon bowling shirt, and a pair of black and white oxfords. At least the shoes and coat matched today. And actually the coat matched the shirt since there was a ketchup stain on it.
“OK. Why don't you go around to the back? That's where Mandy's office is, and she's the one we're going to question.”
No one answered the doorbell. I rang twice and waited for five minutes. Finally Pepe and I headed around to the back on our secret path. If Mandy was at work, she should be in her office. At this point, I was glad Jimmy G. didn't have his gun since if he did, he might have blown us away if he thought we were sneaking up on him.
Everything seemed quiet and peaceful as we neared the terrace. The wind swayed the branches of the willow tree. Rain dripped from the eaves. And then I heard peculiar sounds, like someone was gasping or choking.
The back door flew open and out reeled Jimmy G. He was pale and his eyes were rolling back in his head. He fell to his knees in the grass and bent over the shrubs. Judging by the sound of it, he was being sick. I had no desire to verify this visually but Pepe ran over to him and then ran back to me.
“He had a chicken burrito for lunch!” Pepe said.
“Oh, God, Pepe! I don't want to know that!”
“I thought you valued my mighty nose, partner,” he said. He lifted it and sniffed the air. “
Ay! Ay! ay!
” he said.
“What is it, Pepe?”
“There is another smell, not so pleasant. It is the smell of blood. It is coming from inside.”
I took a few steps towards Jimmy G.
“Are you all right?” I asked him.
He glanced over his shoulder at me, shook his head no, and then turned back to the bush.
Pepe darted inside the house. I followed him. Jimmy G. croaked out, “I wouldn't go in there!” But it was too late. Standing in the rear entryway, I had a clear view into Stewart's office, which looked much the same as yesterday, and into Mandy's office, which was quite different.
Mandy was sprawled across her desk. Face down in a pool of blood. Blood dripped off the edge of the desk. It fell into a puddle of blood on the floor. Mandy's arms hung limp at her sides. A gun lay just beneath the fingers of her right hand. I now knew better than to touch it. It was a big gun, with a pearl handle. It looked familiar.
I wanted to check for a pulse, but Pepe shook his head. “She is
muerta
,” he said. “I can smell the death. But it is recent.”
“How recent?”
“Very recent. Within the hour.”
I thought of that muffled thump I had heard while waiting for Jimmy G.
There was blood everywhere. Spattered on the telephone, the file cabinet, the wall, the ceiling, the window. I knew that soon the place would be swarming with cops, and they would analyze the spatter, read those intricate patterns, analyze trajectories and angles, and form a picture of what had occurred. But what had occurred seemed obvious, especially when I found the paper.
It was lying on the floor, just a little beyond the gun. You couldn't miss it when you walked in the door. It was a typed note. It said merely:
I loved him.
I couldn't live with the guilt.
I'm sorry.
Please forgive me.
It was signed
Manuela
.
“Pepe, come here,” I said. “Smell this for me!”
He sniffed around the edges of the paper, being careful not to step on it.
“It has the stink of Caprice,” he said. “But there is a faint odor of another person.”

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