The Scent of Murder (11 page)

He glanced up. “Someone was here to see you,”

“Who?”

“He didn't give his name.”

“What did he look like?”

Tim proceeded to describe Toon Town.

I groaned. “What did he say?”

“Not much. He looked around, bought a tin of fish food, and asked if he could use the bathroom.”

“That's it?”

“Not exactly. He said to tell you that you were going to pay for last night. What exactly did you do to the man?”

I told Tim the story.

“Amy doesn't have very nice friends, does she?” he observed, when I was done.

“It would seem not.”

I
parked the cab in front of Pete's Bar and got out. At nine thirty, Westcott was quiet. A while back, the street might have been filled with college students, but in recent years SU's enrollment had dropped and the houses that had once held mommy and daddy's pride and joy were now filled with Section Eights—read low income—families. The neighborhood was changing. No one liked it, as the last neighborhood meeting had demonstrated, but no one knew what to do about it either. Last year, Ike, Pete's owner, had told me business was down. He was looking to sell. So far though he hadn't found a buyer.

But maybe that wasn't because of the economy. Maybe that was because of the kind of bare bones place Pete's was. The walls were a greyish-brown, as was the floor. Decoration was limited to a collection of sports memorabilia behind the bar, two SU Lacrosse posters tacked up on walls, and a stunted cactus near the window. It was a drinking man's place, the kind of place you could wreck and not feel guilty about. The reason I went there was because my friend Connie worked there now—though she wasn't there when Zsa Zsa and I walked in.

“She's got the flu,” Ebsen Field told me, when I asked where she was. Tall and thin, with a beard that needed pruning, Field was a perennial grad student. Right now, he was in the Anthro Department. Before that, he'd been in Human Biology. And before that he'd been in Architecture. Next year, who knew? “Or a new boyfriend,” he added, as he set a bottle of Sam Adams and a saucer down in front of me.

“Probably the latter.” Connie was as free sampling men as Ebsen was sampling courses. They'd both acquired a fair amount of knowledge over the years. Neither was shy about sharing it, either.

I lifted Zsa Zsa up and put her on the stool. Ebsen poured a little of my beer in the saucer. “Here you go, toots,” he said, pushing the saucer in front of the dog.

I raised an eyebrow. “Toots?”

He chortled. “Great word, isn't it?” Ebsen had an affinity for expressions from the twenties. He pointed to Zsa Zsa, who was wagging her tail and barking for more. “She just laps it up, doesn't she?”

I groaned and fed Zsa Zsa a pretzel to quiet her down, while I looked around the bar. There were ten people there, and I didn't know any of them, but then again I hadn't expected to. Five were sitting around, talking, and the other five were huddled around the foos ball table.

Ebsen leaned both elbows on the bar. “They've been playing since seven,” he said, stifling a yawn, as he glanced at his watch. “Four and a half more hours, and I'm out of here.”

“Then you can go home and sleep.”

“No. Then I can go home and study. I've got an exam in linguistics.” He straightened up and went to wait on a customer down at the other end of the bar. When he got back, I asked Ebsen to dial my house. It occurred to me I should let Manuel know I was going to be late.

He told me to bring home some food and hung up. I was just finishing my beer when Frank Richmond walked in. He looked as if he'd aged three years since the last time I'd seen him. Now there were bags under his eyes and a faint hint of jowls around the jawline.

“God, I haven't been in a place like this in years,” he said, his tone making it clear he could have done without the experience. “What's that?” he asked, pointing to Zsa Zsa.

“My dog.”

“I didn't think they allowed animals in places like this. I thought it was against the Health Code.”

“Actually, she's really Zsa Zsa Gabor in disguise.” We hadn't even started our conversation and I was already sorry that I'd come. “So you want to talk or what?” I figured there wasn't much danger of his walking out the door. After all, he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to be.

“Talk.” The word came out as if it hurt him to say it. He ordered a Molson. When it came, I grabbed a bowl of popcorn and the three of us walked over to one of the tables sitting by the wall.

“So?” I said, as I watched Frank Richmond carefully fold up his black cashmere overcoat and place it on the chair next to him. “What's going on?”

He gave the coat one last pat before he spoke. “You sure don't waste any time do you?”

Zsa Zsa barked and I poured a little more beer in her saucer and pushed it towards her. “It's late and I'm tired.”

Frank Richmond began tearing tiny pieces of the label off his beer. Soon the bottle was surrounded by a mound of blue and gold confetti. “I heard Charles,” he gave the name an ugly twist, “hired you to find Amy.”

“Who told you that?”

He took the label pieces and began making a large circle out of them. “Word gets around.”

I threw a piece of popcorn to Zsa Zsa. She caught it and swallowed. I did it again. “And that's why you're here?”

“I just thought you should know that he doesn't exactly have Amy's best interests at heart.”

“In what way?”

“Let's just say he wouldn't be unhappy if the police caught up with her.”

“What would that accomplish?”

“These days she usually carries enough dope on her to get herself into some serious trouble.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“Because they don't like each other.”

“I'd say this goes beyond dislike.”

Frank leaned forward. “Charlie hates her.”

I took a sip of my Sam Adams and watched the foos ball players urge each other on. Their voices filled the room. “That's not what he told me.”

Frank Richmond sniggered. “I just bet it isn't.”

“He told me they used to stick up for each other when they were kids. You know, kind of band together against their parents.”

“Yeah, right.” Frank Richmond ran his thumb around the top of his Molson. “Charlie hated Amy from the moment she was born. He was jealous as hell. They used to have to watch him all the time to make sure he didn't hurt the baby.”

“That's not so unusual.”

“He wasn't much better when she was older. He was always hitting her and stealing her toys. Doing stuff to make her cry. I know. I was there.”

“People's relationships change as they grow up.” I threw a couple more pieces of popcorn to Zsa Zsa and ate some myself. “Maybe Charlie has had a change of heart.”

“Not him.”

I leaned back in the chair and regarded Frank. “And you're telling me this because you like Amy so much.”

“No.” He scratched his inner ear with his pinky. “Actually, I don't give a shit about Amy. I just don't want to see Charles get away with anything.”

“Why is that?”

“You were at the plant. You saw what happened.”

“I saw two men arguing. I don't know what you were arguing about.”

“It's simple.” Frank swept the bits of paper back into a heap. “Charles is accusing me of stealing from the business. That paper is supposed to be the proof.”

“And are you?” God, at that moment I would have given anything for a cigarette.

“No.
He
is. He's doctoring up the inventory sheets.”

“Why is he doing that?”

“To divert suspicion from himself.”

I took a deep breath. “This is all fascinating, but what does it have to do with Amy?”

“Nothing, really.” The foos ball players were yelling, and Frank had to speak loudly to be heard over them. “I just thought you'd be interested in knowing what was going on.”

“And what is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what you're telling me doesn't really make sense.”

Frank bit his lip. I watched him decide whether he was going to talk or not. “All right,” he finally said. “Amy told me she was going to tell the police Charlie was supplying her with acid. I guess Charlie figured he'd better get his licks in first.”

“Did he?”

“I don't know. He could have. Amy lies a lot. It's hard to say.”

“Nice family.”

“Yeah, isn't it.” Frank gave a grimace of a smile and slumped back in his chair. “I'd love to go out to California or New Mexico. I'd love to just go anyplace and do something else for awhile.”

“So why don't you?”

Frank studied the table before replying. “Because I never finished college, which means I'll never be able to get another job like the one I have.” Then he got up, went to the bar, and came back with two beers. He pushed one over to me and started on the other one.

I took a sip. “Since you're being so generous, how about telling me one last thing.”

“What's that?”

“Why did your father and his brother stop talking?”

Frank spun his beer bottle around. “I don't think it was any one thing. Just lots of little things over a period of time. Lots and lots of little things.” He stood up suddenly, as if the realization had just hit him that he'd said too much. “I'd better go. I have to be at the plant early tomorrow morning.” He put on his coat and left.

I followed a minute later. On the way home, I stopped at the new Mexican takeout place on Westcott and picked up three beef and spinach
enchilada
dinners, two sides of corn bread, and four Kahlua brownies for Manuel, Zsa Zsa, and myself. I ate my portion, watched a little TV, and went to bed, but I didn't fall asleep right away. I kept staring at the ceiling and wondering what Toon Town had meant.

The next evening I had my answer.

 

 

It was a little after ten thirty at night and I was sitting on the sofa in the living room, paging through the morning paper and listening to Manuel tell me how he was going to Atlanta, when the phone rang. The police were on the line. They were calling to tell me that my store had been broken into. They wanted me to come down immediately. I cursed, as I hung up the receiver.

“What's up?” Manuel asked.

I told him as I headed for the door. Manuel grabbed his jacket and ran after me.

“What do you mean he broke in?” Manuel asked.

“Just what I said.” I spent the ride cursing Toon Town and wondering what he'd done to Noah's Ark.

“Just wait for me,” I told Manuel, as I pulled up behind the patrol cars parked in front of the shop.

He grunted. I took that as a yes and hopped out of the cab.

One of the cops glanced up from his clipboard, stopped writing, and came towards me. I had to squint to read the name off his badge in the dim light. It was Harvey. “Robin Light,” he said, making the words into a statement instead of a question.

I nodded. “How bad is it inside?”

Harvey pulled at the corners of his sparse mustache. “Bad enough.”

“How are the animals?”

“I don't know. When I saw what I had, I turned around and came out. I've been waiting for you to take a look.” He tugged on the ends of his mustache again. “Shall we go in?” he asked, nodding towards the store.

“Might as well.”

We walked up the path together.

Then I opened the door.

O
ur entrance was greeted by raucous squawks. A small cloud of green, blue, and yellow parakeets rose, flew in a circle, and settled back down on the ceiling pipes. I'd been thinking of booking a trip to Costa Rica to see this kind of stuff. Seeing it in my own place, however, was not what I'd had in mind.

Harvey took in the scene and shook his head. “It looks as if someone gave this place a pretty good going-over.”

“You could say that.” I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath, and told myself I needed to stay calm and assess the damages. What I wanted to do was cry.

Okay. The Macaw was still here. That was good. Especially since it was the most expensive item in the place. But everything that had been on the shelves was now on the floor. That was bad. The ferret's cage was on its side, the bottom tray had fallen off. Mr. Bones was gone. Also bad. I bit one of my cuticles. He'd probably fallen off the counter and was somewhere on the floor. I just hoped he hadn't worked his way into some crack in the floorboards and disappeared into the infrastructure of the building. Then I'd never find him. Ditto that for the hamsters and gerbils. They were gone too, their cages tipped over on their sides, bleeding cedar shavings. But at least Toon Town hadn't touched the fish tanks. I didn't want to think about what would have happened if he'd toppled those over. And then I thought about the snakes and the lizards and my heart sank.

But they were all in their cages.

It looked as if Toon Town had caused a lot of damage, but it wasn't the expensive kind. It was the kind that was just going to take a lot of effort to clean up.

“Do you have any idea who did this?” Harvey asked. He was standing by the door.

“I wish I knew.” I'd been going to give him Toon Town's name, but at the last moment I decided against it. Even if the cops picked him up, they weren't going to charge him with much. But if Amy was with him and they picked her up, too, she'd be in real trouble—if Frank Richmond was to be believed—and judging from Amy's past history, the odds were he was telling the truth.

Harvey looked around the store. “Have you had a fight with anyone lately?” he enquired.

“No,” I lied.

“A dissatisfied customer. Someone who felt they were cheated.”

I shook my head and looked down. Something was pulling on my sneaker lace. It was Mr. Bones. I gave a sigh of relief and lifted him up. He chittered and tried to burrow into my jacket. I opened the zipper and let in him. Poor guy. He'd had a rough night. A moment later, Pickles slunk by with a dead gerbil in her mouth. Snack time. I had a feeling I'd be seeing a lot of those in the next couple of days. She meowed a greeting and headed for the back room. I wondered how many other gerbils Pickles had already eaten.

I reached into my pocket for a stick of gum. “How did whoever did this get in?”

“Broke a window in the back. Do you want to see it?”

I backtracked towards the door. “Please.”

Manuel popped out of the car when he saw me come out of the store. “What's going on?”

“Who's he?” Harvey asked.

I told him, then I filled Manuel in on what had happened as we headed towards the side of the building. Harvey stopped about thirty feet into the alley and pointed to the window that led to the back room. “The guy broke the glass and climbed in here.”

I sighed and nudged a shard of glass towards the wall. It wouldn't have taken much of an effort to get in this way. Maybe I should have installed a burglar alarm after all, although in this case it wouldn't have helped much.

“The only reason I discovered the break-in,” Harvey explained, as I stared at the space where the window had been, “was because I was checking the alley for someone. I noticed the broken window and went back and tried the front door. It was open a crack. Whoever did this must have forgotten to close it all the way.”

I thought of the birds flying around. I'd have to duct-tape a plastic garbage bag over the window the moment I went in. Then tomorrow I'd get someone to come out and fix it. This wasn't Florida. If they got out outside, the cold would kill them.

Harvey ran a finger down the center of his nose. It was long and thin and cut the air like a hatchet. “Are you sure there isn't someone you've had a fight with recently?”

Manuel started to speak, but I interrupted before he could say anything. “I'm positive,” I replied, firmly ignoring Manuel's startled expression.

“Well, if you do remember, give me a call.” Harvey headed back towards the squad car.

We followed, a minute or so after.

“Why didn't you tell him about Toon Town?” Manuel hissed.

“I'll explain later.”

“So you gonna let him get away with this?”

“No,” I replied grimly.

“What are you going to do?”

“I'm not sure, but I'm definitely going to think of something.”

By now we were back in front of the store.

“I got some friends,” Manuel said, and then fell silent as Harvey came back with the crime report number. I stuffed it in my pocket.

“I may take you up on your offer,” I told Manuel, after Harvey left. Then Manuel and I turned and went back inside the store.

The first thing I did was fix the window. The second thing I did was fix up a home for Mr. Bones. The third thing I did was call Tim. I wanted to prepare him for what he'd find when he arrived in the morning. After that, Manuel and I went home. I was too depressed to do any cleaning. I was too depressed to have my talk with Manuel about finding another place to stay. Instead, I had two Scotches and went to sleep.

I had to drag myself out of bed the next morning. Surprisingly, Manuel was already up and waiting to go to work. One good thing you can say about him: He is there when you really need him. In the car on the way over to the store we talked about his trying to get back in his house, and he agreed that maybe it would be a good idea to have a chat with his mom. At least I was getting somewhere with something. Not that that really helped my mood much. Thinking about what was waiting for me at the store made me want to spit. I felt even angrier when I walked in. In the light of day, the damage looked worse than it had last night.

Tim had beaten Manuel and me in. “Jesus,” he said, as I walked in. “I can't believe this.”

“I know.”

“It's going to take us a day to get this place back together.”

“At the least.” I put my backpack and denim jacket on the counter and thought about where to start.

The three of us worked for the next five hours straight.

With every bag of dog food I put back on the shelf, with every can of flea and tick spray I replaced, I just got angrier and angrier.

I wanted to find Toon Town. I wanted to find him really badly.

Amy had brought him into my life, and I wanted to make sure he knew he'd better get out.