“I heard that if you were cheating that Max could divorce you without paying out a dime.”
“Not exactly but as I said before I wouldn’t have nearly the full payment. Anyway Anthony, Max and I had a gentleman’s agreement if you will. We would be discreet but we would allow each other companions if need be. Frankly it was his idea in the first place. And after years of seeing him happy with his little trysts I gave it a try too.”
Vanessa had a look at the dessert menu and then glanced up to catch Matthew’s attention. He caught it and was right there. Very attentive. Not like the joints I head too. You have to practically put them in a headlock to get any service. Vanessa ordered the fruit plate. Matthew made eye contact with me. Called me sir. I said no thanks. I was still finishing my beer. Vanessa swallowed her last mouthful of wine. She looked at me longingly. Or maybe that was just me.
“It’s worked for us Anthony. We may have a barren marriage physically, but we care for one another deeply. Is it ideal? No. I wish it could’ve been different. But we’ve made the most of what we have. Some people are too quick to judge.” She looked off for a moment and I thought her eyes got misty. Maybe it was the smog. Maybe it was the dusky light.
“I’m not here to judge Vanessa. In my line of work I’ve seen all sorts of human depravity. I’m just a gumshoe. I’m not the judge, the jury or the executioner.”
She looked back at me and smiled. This one was real. I let it linger.
“Is there anyone else?” I said. “Anyone else that has been a companion? Anyone else I might want to talk to?”
“You’re very kind Anthony. Captain Roberts said you were discreet too. Lorenzo Castilla. I hired him to maintain the grounds. He’s a very good looking well built Argentinean. He’s been wonderful to me. He should be in tomorrow morning at eight.”
“He’s been a companion of sorts?” She nodded. “Do you think he could be a suspect Vanessa?”
Matthew came by with the fruit plate. It looked good. A bouquet of color. Mangos, pineapple, berries of all sorts, strawberries and watermelon and Star Fruit. Matthew took away my sad looking, empty Stella and Vanessa’s wine glass. He also cleared away our side plates. I barely noticed him.
“I don’t know Anthony.” She looked tired picking away at her fruit. She made it look like a chore. I thought about offering to help. But I didn’t. “I suppose so. He’s very much Latin in temperament. Fiery and passionate. I will say that Max wasn’t particularly pleasant to him. At least not as nice as he was to Maria. He might have been a little jealous of Lorenzo. Though we paid him well. I don’t know why he would have murdered my husband Anthony, except in a fit of anger perhaps.”
“Can you think of anyone else I might want to investigate?”
She thought for a moment. Put a forkful of mango in her mouth.
“There was this one woman that Max might have been intimate with. She’s a second rate actor. What’s her name again… Jade, Jade Sky. She’s very odd Anthony. Something not quite right about her. And she’s not odd in just a thespian way. Actors are a strange bunch generally, but she is something else all together.”
With a name like that I figured I could make a good guess at the kind of films she starred in. But maybe I’m being unkind. She wrote something else on the piece of paper.
“What do you mean when you talk of her being odd?” I asked. She bit her bottom lip and thought about it for a minute. I watched her bite that lip and thought about things too. Carnal things. So I looked at the fruit and it eased my mind.
“Well, up until very recently she kept calling and calling and hanging up on our voice mail. Sometimes she’d leave a very whiny message. Almost pleading for Max to call her. Other times she’d curse like a sailor and say things like she was going to castrate him. Only she didn’t say it as decently as that. Seemed like she might have been bi-polar but I don’t know for certain.”
I nodded and took a sip of water.
“I told Max that I didn’t think she was all that good. That he might want to steer away from her. But he didn’t listen. When he gets an idea in his head he’s not one to relinquish it easily. That’s one of the things that have made him so successful. Anyway, she’s been in a few of his movies but I think he stopped using her recently and that’s when this madness with her stopped. A word to the wise Anthony. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
She was quoting Congreve to me. Maybe I’d offer her some W. H. Auden.
“Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,” I said. She looked at me and laughed.
“I think I’ve heard that before,” she said.
“It’s Auden,” I said, “I thought we had turned the page and were quoting the classics to each other.” I smiled at her. I still had a piece of bun on my plate which I ate. She hadn’t offered me any fruit. I had noticed that. A nice tart berry would’ve been welcomed.
“So where can I get a piece of Jade Sky?”
She wrote some more on the piece of paper before her.
“I’m just writing it down for you.”
“Write down some other people you think I might like to get to know. Anyone else in the inner circle” She wrote some more.
“You might want to speak with his assistant Sulan Lui. He was probably intimate with her too.”
“Jesus,” I said, “I thought you said you just needed some passion. A companion. Seems like your husband was all over the map with his passions.”
I didn’t envy the guy. I thought he was an idiot. Attractive wife, but maybe he was bored. I get it. But discretion wasn’t part of his arsenal. No wonder I was investigating his homicide. You play Peter against Paul long enough and you set yourself up for a fall. People get jealous.
“I thought you said you didn’t judge.”
“I don’t. But this mess is getting complicated. I’m just trying to understand how it works in your world.”
“Well it is complicated Anthony. And this is why Universal probably wants you involved. So they know what sort of things to keep a lid on. You’re probably right. Max was probably getting in over his head.”
She finished her fruit. Nothing left but little smears of red and blue and orange fruit juice.
“Did Max have any other weaknesses besides women?” I asked.
“He gambled a bit Anthony. But I don’t know very much about that. Maybe his attorney will know more about that. But I think I’ve given you enough leads on this paper here to give you a few days work. If you need more, call me, Anthony and I’ll be happy to help you in whatever way I can.”
The kind of help I needed from her left crumpled sheets. But I didn’t ask. I had to stay focused on the task at hand.
“I cared for my husband. Whether you believe that or not. And I want the killer or killers caught.” She pushed the paper towards me and I took it.
She had nice careful writing. Long loops and neat tight letters. The first name was Jane Greenway with a telephone number next to it that had “cell” after it. Jane’s name was underlined and below it said “friend”. I knew what she meant. Though I’d never had friends like that. Lorenzo Castilla was next with times of eight to four next to his name and an M and F. I figured these were his working hours. I knew where to find him. Below Lorenzo was Jade Sky. The pressure and the ink were just a little more forceful with her name and her name was underlined a couple of times. I think this could be a clue. A-List Actors was underneath with a phone number next to it. I thought that was optimistic. A-List indeed. Lastly was Sulan Lui with a telephone number.
“I’m not certain I know who you’d like me to concentrate on Vanessa. But if I were a betting man I’d say Jade?”
She smiled at me and looked up for Matthew. He was next to us just moments later. She asked for the bill and he bowed himself away.
“Despite my façade Anthony. I’m quite shook up by this. Someone comes into your house and kills your husband. It’s unnerving. I don’t feel safe in my own home.”
“I understand,” I said.
“Please make sure you figure it out quickly. I’ll be staying here until someone has been arrested. And as much as I like it here it’s not my home and there’s much that needs to be taken care of on the business end. And I really don’t like people traipsing in and out of my home willy-nilly.”
“I understand Vanessa. If it makes you feel any better this looks to me like a crime of passion. Something done in the heat of the moment and made to look like a robbery. But I don’t buy the robbery angle.”
She nodded. “Still,” she said, “I need some resolution.”
Matthew came by with a slip of paper and she signed it. He wished us a wonderful evening letting his eyes linger just a moment down the front of Vanessa’s dress. Very discreet, very naughty. He probably had a better chance than me. I got up and helped Vanessa out of her chair. I walked behind as we left the Terrace. Hot damn, the back was bare and as smooth as vinyl. Those two little dimples were smiling at me. Her ass was firm and smiling too. Must be Pilates. I had to look into that. Jean Paul wished “Ms. Ernst” a pleasant evening. He gave me a quaint look. Something reserved for the homeless perhaps.
“See you tiger,” I said to him. Pointing my finger out at him like a pistol. I offered to walk Vanessa to her room. I’m old school that way. She declined. I wasn’t hurt. I left her at the elevators and went home to see Pirate. Now there’s a guy who could help me make sense of things. Nothing fake, nothing insincere about animals. Maybe that’s why we like them so much.
He was curled on my bed riding shotgun. I climbed in and he was warm next to my lower legs. I’d sleep well. Perhaps better than most. My conscience was clear at least. Even if my head was a little wooly. I wondered how many people my list would finally encompass. Vanessa could have done it. Although she wasn’t my first choice. Maria could’ve done it too, but I don’t know why. Why kill the sugar daddy that feeds you? Didn’t make any sense. I liked the idea of Jade but I hadn’t met her. Maybe the power of Vanessa’s suggestion was clouding my thinking. I didn’t have a reason why Lorenzo would do it.
I planned to find out tomorrow. Jane was an outside shot, although she could have a good reason trying to get Max out of the picture so she and Vanessa could live happily ever after. And Sulan, well she’d just killed her moneymaker if she did it. That didn’t make sense to me either. But you never know. People do the strangest things for the oddest reasons. Maybe it was Matthew the waiter in the den with the statue.
I fell asleep wondering why the hell I did this kind of work. Picking through people’s garbage trying to make sense of the catastrophes in their lives. Homemade catastrophes to boot.
FOUR
Anthony Sees Dead People
I woke up at seven without the alarm. The sun was trying to burn a path towards my bed. It was bright. I opened my eyes and they burned. My head ached and was thick. Someone had stuffed it full of barbed wire. That, and they’d shoved salt and pepper in my eyes. I crawled out of bed and went to the kitchen. I poured myself a tall glass of water and washed down a couple of extra strength aspirin. Make it three. I got some organic French roast coffee percolating. Extra strong for this fragile man. I went into the bathroom and took a leak. I was dehydrated. I could tell. I splashed cold water over my face trying to wash out the spices in my eyes. This didn’t help my headache. It throbbed in protest.
I went back to the kitchen and drank another glass of water. I was tempted to chase it with more aspirin. Patience I said to myself is a virtue. Only I wasn’t feeling very virtuous. I figured a hearty breakfast would help. I gouged a pat of butter from the brick and tossed it into a non-stick frying pan. Pirate was rubbing his fur all over my calves. I didn’t think I needed more hair. I reached down and scratched him behind the ears.
“You hungry too boy?” He looked up at me with big, wide eyes and started his diesel engine. I’m a sucker for big, wide eyes. I put some dry food in his dog bowl and emptied out his water bowl and filled it with fresh water from the fridge. It was hot in the apartment. I needed to get me one of those window a/c units. Next to the frying pan in my skivvies and my brow was starting to bead. It was hot but I also wasn’t feeling too good. The butter was starting to bubble. I grabbed two eggs from the fridge, nice big white ones and cracked them into the pan. It takes a certain skill to crack eggs just right.
While they were sizzling away I go some rashers of bacon out and a couple of slices of bread. A nice multi grain. I tossed the rashers in the pan with the eggs. Gives them a nice taste. I put the bread in the toaster. The smells of the cooking eggs and the bacon started making me feel a whole lot better. The coffee wasn’t quite finished but I poured myself a large mug anyway. I got myself some cream from the fridge and didn’t stinge on myself. You’ve got to live a little sometimes. I scooped two heaping sugars in and tasted it. Perfect. This day was just getting better and it had just opened its eyes.
The bread had toasted so I let it sit a bit in the toaster. I tilted the frying pan and scooped the liquid butter over the top of the eggs for a bit. I tossed the bacon on its back. I like it crispy. I scooped the eggs out and placed them on the plate. I put the toast into the frying pan where the eggs were. Nothing better than fried eggs on fried toast. I went back into the fridge and took out a large beefsteak tomato and cut four thick slices off its face. I turned the toast over. Checked the bacon. Magnificent. I topped up my coffee.
“Maybe you and me should open up a b and b hey Pirate?” He looked up at me from his dog bowl. Couldn’t tell if he liked the idea or not. The toast was ready. The bacon was ready and I was hungry as a wolf. I took the toast out, put two slices of tomato on each and put the still warm eggs on top. The bacon I piled on the side. Pirate looked at me longingly with his one good eye. I couldn’t resist. I tossed him a rasher into his bowl.
Generous salt and pepper later and I pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and tucked in. Nothing like a hearty breakfast to get the day going. It was wavering around half after the hour. I was in no rush. I’d enjoy my breakfast, get ready and head on up to speak with Latin lover. And from there I’d take it as the mood struck.
Coming around eight thirty and I was feeling fine. The headache was a memory. I had a couple of cups of coffee in my belly and a full breakfast. I was stuffed and satisfied and looking for answers. I showered and shaved and put on just a dab of cologne. Maybe today would be a lucky day. I had on tan slacks and another blue shirt. It’s a flattering combination. I was out the door meaning business.
The ten and four oh five were busier than I was expecting. There must have been a blood bath somewhere along the four oh five I figured, the way traffic was moving. It was around an hour by the time I pulled up in front of number eight. There was no cop to let me in, but the gates were open so I helped myself.
I walked up to the door and squashed the buzzer. Didn’t so much buzz as serenade the inside of the house. I could hear it faintly. I admired Lorenzo’s rose bushes out front while I waited for Maria to open up. I looked at my cell. It was just after nine thirty. Lorenzo did good work out here. I wondered if he was this meticulous and attentive with Vanessa. I bet he was.
Nothing happened, so I squashed the buzzer a little harder this time. It didn’t increase the volume inside from what I could tell. I bent down and smelt a big pink rose. It must have been the size of a side plate. Maria still didn’t come so I decided I’d go round back and see if I could find Lorenzo or try the back door.
There was a nice cobblestone path tucked to the side of the house running parallel to the tennis court. The tennis court was in great shape. The net was taut and the floor was fresh, bright and uncracked. I hadn’t played tennis in years. Looking at a court like that and I thought I might like to pick it up again. The grass was a bright green, almost unnatural. The sky was blue and not as smoggy. I figured the fires were under control. At least I was hoping. I could barely see any clouds. At this time of the day it was already getting warm. As I rounded the end of the house and out into the backyard I saw a r
ectangular pool. It looked seductively at me. I declined, I hadn’t brought along any swimming trunks. Running alongside the pool was a pad dotted with chaise lounges, folding deck chairs and a great big gazebo. The yard, or rather the estate was surrounded with bushes, shrubs and trees along the perimeter. I couldn’t quite make out a fence or wall from here, and you could look in each direction of the compass and you wouldn’t see another house. It felt like you were in the country. I liked it. No wonder I came back.
At the far end, diagonally across from the tennis court was a large shed. It could house a small family. Maybe Lorenzo’s family. Maybe the riding mowers for this putting green lawn. I walked over there to see if I could find him. The side door was open. It was an aluminum structure painted white. The door was opened towards me so I couldn’t see inside.
“Lorenzo,” I said as I got nearer. “Lorenzo Castilla.” I said it loud enough so he’d hear me. I didn’t want to catch anyone off guard and have the guy come out swinging with a shovel or something. I took a wide berth of the door and as I came round I could see a pair of white sneakers, toes pointed up. They were stained a soft green. There were feet in them and I could make out brown ankles and then blue denim. The rest of the body was inside the shed. I came up closer. It was hard to see into the dark shed. I crouched down and peered inside shielding my eyes. I went for my gun under my left shoulder. Shit, I didn’t have it. Crap, that’s not the way to go about business. I need to be better prepared.
Luckily I couldn’t see anyone else. It was neat in the shed. The tools all in their places, many with bright shiny faces. I stepped into the shed, staying to the left side of his body. His left. He wore an army green plain t-shirt. He was looking at the ceiling. I hate that. It’s so much better if their eyes are closed. By his head was a smaller shovel. Under his neck was a large pool of blood staining the concrete pad. Sticking out of the middle of his neck was a pair of hedge shears with red handles. How ironic. Smaller ones. Maybe had eight inch cutting blades. Might have been used on the unruly rose bush previously. I put my fingers up against the upper left side of his neck. No pulse. No shit Sherlock. His blood was still slimy and wet on my fingers, and sticky as I took them away. It wasn’t warm, but I figured he hadn’t been dead more than an hour or so. The left side of his head by the temple was caved in a bit and matted with blood. The shovel had signs of drying blood on its convex side.
Anthony Carrick Hardboiled Murder Mysteries: Box Set (Books 1 - 3) Page 4
