Murder in Palm Springs

by Dianne Harman

  “And?” Marty asked. “Are you going to be coy or tell me what the three words were?”

  “Act of mercy.”

  “That’s it. Those were the three words?”

  “Yes. I woke up this morning and they kept running through my mind. I had a feeling of sadness rather than the danger feeling I’ve always had in the past.”

  “Did anything else come to you? Was I involved?” Marty asked.

  “Yes, the words were in the foreground and you were in the background. That’s all that came to me.”

  “So, I have Patron with hackles up and those three words. Oh, and I almost forgot. The mailbox.”

  “Yes, that’s the extent of it. Although from what you and Jeff told us last night, looks like the mailbox was somehow related to his death. At least he was murdered when he went to get his mail. Anyway, I know it’s not much to go on, but if I were analyzing Patron’s behavior and the words that came to me, and there had been a murder involved, I’d say it wasn’t a killing of revenge or hatred, but rather an act of mercy.”

  “Laura, it’s like you’re speaking in tongues. That’s absolutely no help to me, and I don’t see any nexus between your dream or whatever you call it, and the people on the suspect list. All of them had a reason why they wanted Jimmy dead. None of their possible motives fits with an act of mercy.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, Marty, and I wish I had more for you, but I simply don’t. The good news is I don’t think you’re in any kind of danger.”

  “Well, thank the Lord for small miracles, but that still doesn’t get me any closer to finding out who killed Jimmy.”

  “Sorry, Sis. That’s the best I can do. Thanks for the coffee, but I really do have to get to work. Anything you want me to tell Dick?”

  “Yes. I’m sure he’s well-aware of Jimmy’s death. I left a message with Dick’s secretary, after Jimmy was taken to the hospital, that we were unable to finish the appraisal. I said we’d resume when we could. Jeff told me that the house is still yellow-taped and off-limits due to the ongoing criminal investigation, but I’d expect we could resume tomorrow or the day after.

  “Based on past experience, Dick’s always wanted me to finish the appraisal of the decedent’s estate because the value has to be known for estate purposes as well as insurance purposes. Unless I hear otherwise from him, I’m going to assume the same thing applies in this case, but why don’t you find out if he’s talked to Jimmy’s lawyer about it?”

  “Will do. If anything else comes to me, I’ll let you know.”

  “Believe me, I’d really appreciate it if you would.”

  Just as Laura walked out the door, Marty’s cell phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw it was Carl. “Thanks for getting back to me, Carl, what did you find out?”

  “She told you the truth. She was hired to play the part of the mother of the lead actress. It’s a nice role for her, actually it’s a plum role. There were over one hundred women who read for the part. The fact that she got it tells me she’ll probably be in demand from now on. She’s never played the part of an older woman, and who knows, it could be the harbinger of a reboot of her career.”

  “Well, that means I can cross her off as one of the suspects for sure. Thanks Carl, I appreciate you finding out about her for me.”

  “Marty, you mentioned something about Miles Reed. I’m sorry, but I got distracted by a customer who was standing at the window looking in. Would you run that by me again?”

  “Sure. Miles Reed used to play at the Red Velvet Lounge. The Lounge hired Jimmy after his heart attack and replaced Miles with Jimmy. From what I was told, Miles tried to get the owner of the Velvet to let him play there some other night during the week, but he refused, which meant Miles could no longer work there. Ring a bell?”

  “Sure does. Some friends and I went to the Red Velvet Lounge before Jimmy took over and heard Miles Reed. He is really, really good. As a matter of fact, I remember we had a discussion afterwards about why he wasn’t playing in Las Vegas. He seemed to be too good for Palm Springs. Are you going to talk to him?”

  “Actually, I’m thinking about doing it this afternoon. I want to see if I can talk to the fan, Priscilla Simpson, this morning as well as Jimmy’s sister. That would just leave me with Miles and Jimmy’s agent, Randy. Why?”

  “Well, you know I’m kinda’ starstruck. I’d love a chance to talk to Miles, I mean, he was really that good. Mind if I tag along?”

  “Carl, I’m shocked. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with murders ever again. At least that’s the impression I got.”

  “Well, Marty, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I was a little hasty in what I said about never appraising with you again. I have to say that the appraisals are always interesting, but I just don’t want to be the one who makes them interesting, if you get what I mean.”

  “I think you’re telling me you don’t want to be the victim of some murderer when we’re out on an appraisal. Would that about sum it up?”

  “That it would. If you can assure me that I won’t be, I’ll take back what I said earlier about not appraising with you again.”

  “Carl, you know I can’t absolutely promise you that. I mean, think about it. A crazed murderer could crash in through the windows looking for something, and we might just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. See what I mean?”

  “I’m getting the sense you’re somewhat of a fatalist, like if it’s your time, it’s your time. Is that about right?”

  “Yes, although I would prefer you didn’t use the word fatalist in describing me. I prefer to think of myself as an optimist, but I’m also pragmatic. We can’t plan for every eventuality that might take place in the world, but I can promise you I’ll do something that will make you happy.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I’ll make sure that Patron is always with us when we do an appraisal. You remember how he alerted you when we were doing the woman’s home who was donating her collection to the museum she was going to build. And when that didn’t work out, her home became the museum and I was appointed the interim museum director.”

  “From your lips to God’s ear. Promise me Patron will always be with us, and I’ll be happy to help you,”

  “Done.”

  “Good. Now about Miles. Are you planning on just showing up or are you going to make an appointment with him?”

  “I thought I’d just show up. Jeff gave me his address. Evidently he’s taken a job at some lounges here in the area, but I figure he won’t be going there until later tonight. Why don’t I pick you up about 2:00 this afternoon and we’ll see what happens?”

  “Can I bring my autograph book, ‘cuz that guy is definitely going places, and his autograph might be really valuable in a few years.”

  “Carl, need I remind you that we’re going to talk to him about a murder? If he’s the killer, he’ll be going places, but not the places where his autograph will be worth much.”

  “You’ve got a point.” Carl was quiet for a few moments and then said, “Well, I think I’ll see if I can get his autograph anyway. If he does turn out to be the killer, I’ll just put it in the trash. If not, I may be a rich man.”

  “And I thought I was an optimist,” Marty said. “See you at 2:00.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “Patron, come. We have some work to do,” Marty said to the big white boxer who eagerly ran to her side. “We have to visit two women, pick up Carl, and go see a guy. Are you up for that, big boy?”

  Patron arfed joyfully while she snapped his leash on him. She turned to Duke and said, “Duke, we’ll be back this afternoon. I texted Les to take you for a walk when he takes a break from painting. Be good.” She closed the gate behind them and she and Patron got in her car.

  She’d used her Waze app to get the directions to the apartment where Priscilla lived. It was in an older part of Palm Springs that had lost its appeal to the people who had come to the desert in the last twenty years and expanded the ori
ginal small town of Palm Springs much farther east.

  Rancho Mirage, Palm Desert, and La Quinta were just a few of the far more desirable places for people to live while they played golf and enjoyed the warmth of the sun after dealing with the effects of winter in the northern United States and Canada. It wasn’t called a playground for the rich and famous for nothing.

  After the thirty-minute drive from the compound to the Palm Springs area, she pulled up to the curb in front of an apartment building that was long past its prime. Weeds grew where lush grass had once been planted. The sidewalk leading up to the door was cracked and paint was peeling off of the front door. Straggly succulents stood next to the front steps, succulents that were meant to thrive in the desert, but clearly lacked any attention being given to them.

  “Okay, Patron. It’s show time. I promised Jeff you’d be part of the investigation and so you are. Please be on your best behavior. Even though you’re white and people usually like white dogs, some of them are put off by big dogs.”

  There were almost no cars on the street as is often the case in a blue-collar neighborhood where everyone is at work during the day. Marty would have been surprised if there had been a lot of parked cars. Clearly, this was an area where people survived, rather than thrived.

  They walked in the front door of the building and entered a small vestibule. Next to the elevator was a roster of the residents. Priscilla Simpson lived in Apartment 2D on the second floor. They rode the elevator up to the second floor and walked down the hall to Priscilla’s apartment. Marty rang the doorbell.

  Marty wasn’t sure what she was going to say to Priscilla if she was there. She thought she’d wing it, but now she was regretting not having prepared something.

  A moment later a voice on the other side of the door asked, “Who is it?”

  “My name is Marty Morgan, Priscilla. I’d like to talk to you about Jimmy Joseph. I’m his representative.”

  The door swung open and a woman stood there, her face swollen and black and blue. She looked at Marty and said, “It’s about time he apologized or sent someone to apologize for him. Course now that he’s dead, I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  Marty didn’t know what to say. She knew she was staring at the woman’s face but she couldn’t help it. Finally, she said, “I’d like to come in rather than discuss it here in the hallway. Would that be okay with you?”

  “Are you going to bring that dog in here if I let you in?” Priscilla asked, looking down at Patron who was quite calm. That was one of the reasons Marty had wanted to bring Patron, in addition to promising Jeff that she would. She wanted to see what his response was to the people she was going to talk to. From what she was observing, if she were a betting woman, she’d bet that Priscilla wasn’t the murderer.

  “Yes, he goes wherever I go. I know it’s silly, but I just like to have him with me. I really can’t explain it. I hope you don’t mind. He’s quite well-behaved.”

  “All right. Come in and say what you have to say. As you can tell from my face, I’ve definitely felt better, and the doctor told me to take it very easy for the next few days.”

  Priscilla held the door open for them and Patron and Marty entered the small apartment. Marty looked past Priscilla and gasped. Every wall was covered from floor to ceiling with pictures of Jimmy Joseph. She’d never seen anything like it and was totally at a loss of words.

  “Sit down, and yes, those are all pictures of Jimmy Joseph. I’ve lived with them for so long it’s hard for me to take them down, but now that I’ve decided to make a new life for myself, I will.”

  Marty didn’t know where to begin. Should she question Priscilla about her face and her reference to a doctor? Or should she say something about the pictures? Or maybe why she was there? She decided anything was better than the silence between them.

  “You mentioned a doctor. Are you ill?”

  “No, you can see for yourself why I’m under the care of a doctor. I know my face doesn’t look very good right now, but he promises it will when the swelling and the black and blue marks are gone.”

  “Did something happen to you?” Marty asked.

  “You might say that. That something is called a scalpel or laser. I had a complete face lift. As a matter of fact, I got out of the hospital yesterday afternoon. I didn’t heal quite as fast as the doctor wanted me to, so he kept me in an extra day. I was there three days, rather than the normal two.”

  “You must be so excited. I have a number of friends who have had face lifts and all of them are glad they did.”

  “It was nothing I’d planned on, but after I heard what that man said about me at the Red Velvet Lounge when I tried to get in to see Jimmy Joseph, I thought it was time. I’ve been ugly all my life, and I know it. But I never expected to hear someone else call me ugly and tell Jimmy he didn’t need to see me because I was ugly. Nothing has ever hurt me that badly.

  “Is that why you’re here, to apologize to me on behalf of Jimmy? Because if you are, it’s too late. These pictures of Jimmy are coming down as soon as I feel up to it. I’ve got a new face, and I’m starting a new life.”

  “No, I didn’t come here to apologize to you. I’m sorry for what happened at the Red Velvet Lounge, but I’m here to see if you know anyone who would have wanted to kill Jimmy? When you were at the lounge that night, did you notice anything unusual?”

  Priscilla was quiet for several moments and then she said, “You said kill Jimmy. The news report I saw on television said he’d died. I assumed he’d had another heart attack, but that wasn’t the reason for his death, is that what you’re saying?”

  “He died from a poison called ricin. Evidently someone shot him with a pellet that had the poison in it. He died a few hours later in the hospital.”

  “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.” She looked over at Marty with tears in her eyes. “Jimmy wasn’t the one who said I was ugly. It was one of his people at the Red Velvet. I guess everything in my life really is changing. My facelift. Jimmy murdered. This is all a lot to take in.”

  “I’m sorry. The police department is deliberately not releasing the cause of death.”

  “Thank you. You said you were representing Jimmy. In what capacity?”

  “My husband is the head detective at the Palm Springs Police Department. I’ve helped him with several cases in the past that have involved people I knew. I’m an antique appraiser and was conducting an appraisal at Jimmy’s home the day he was murdered. Unfortunately, the same day there were also several murders at the music festival, one of whom was the mayor’s son.

  “You can’t imagine the pressure being brought to bear on my husband by politicians and others to find the murderer. I’m trying to help him with a little legwork by talking to people who knew Jimmy. His right-hand man had your card and was getting ready to put it into a fan database when he was murdered. Jimmy had handed him the card when he was at the Red Velvet, and I thought maybe you might know something.”

  Well, that’s not exactly how it went down, Marty thought, but given the circumstances, I think a little fib here and there will be okay. Nothing I just said will hurt Priscilla.

  “No, I know nothing other than what I told you earlier about hearing someone say that I was really ugly. I’ve had a little time to think about it, actually a lot of time while I was in the hospital, and I think it may have been a blessing in disguise. Before I made the decision to have the facelift, quite frankly I’d thought about doing something to hurt Jimmy the way I’d been hurt. Finally, I had to admit that even though it was one of Jimmy’s people, it wasn’t Jimmy, so it was time for me to give up my anger at him as well.”

  “How so?” Marty asked.

  “I used my ugliness to keep me from developing any friendships or other personal relationships. I stuffed any desires I might have had for a normal life down and consoled myself with pictures of Jimmy and telling myself that I was his number one fan. Before my mother died, she told me what I was doing was really unhealthy. She
told me that she was leaving me quite an inheritance, and she wanted me to use it to make a better life for myself. Instead, I played the martyr, put the inheritance into a mutual fund, and surrounded myself with Jimmy. I never touched my inheritance.

  “I have a master’s degree in tax law, but I always felt as ugly as I was, no one would ever hire me. I took a menial job with an insurance company that I could do here at home, so I would rarely have to go out of my apartment and interact with people. I had my groceries delivered and bought whatever I needed online. The words I heard at the Red Velvet that night have changed my life.”

  “I decided my mother was right. My attitude towards life was distinctly unhealthy. I contacted my broker, took a lot of money out of my account, and decided to start with a face lift. Then I made a down payment on a condominium in La Quinta. Once I get settled there, I’m going to begin interviewing for a job using my degree.”

  “It sounds like you’ve planned this very carefully.”

  “I’d like to think so. I understand that private banking has become a big deal with a lot of the banks and investment companies. As much money as there is in Palm Springs and with a much older population, I would think skills like mine would be desirable. Plus, I graduated magna cum laude from both college and law school. That should count for something.”

  “While I’m in the process of moving into the condo and seeking employment, I’m also going to treat myself to learning how to apply makeup, go to the best hair stylist I can find, get a personal trainer, and spend some serious time getting to know the personal shoppers at the best stores in the area.”

  “I wish you luck, Priscilla. I’m sorry that it took the horrible experience you went through at the Red Velvet to start all this, but like you said, maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

  “It’s funny. My mother begged me to go see a plastic surgeon, but I always refused. I thought if I looked better it might result in someone wanting to have a relationship with me and I was afraid. I didn’t want to set myself up for a relationship failure. Looking the way I did resulted in a pretty awful childhood and teen years. I’d learned to accept the fact that people thought I had agorophobia. Actually, I didn’t. I just didn’t want to be around people because I knew they could hurt me.