Pane and Suffering

by Cheryl Hollon

  “The only fingerprints on the cup, besides the victim’s, belong to Jacob Underwood and Edward Morris.”

  “Yeah, the bartender and the crazy kid.”

  The detective lowered his head and shook it in depressed resignation. Before exploding, he took a deep breath. The situation was politically charged because Officer Boulli was the captain’s nephew. The captain insisted that this goof was a genius in solving mysteries. Such things were meant to build character . . . or drive you crazy. This one was driving Detective Parker crazy.

  He spoke slowly. “Jacob Underwood has a specific condition called Asperger’s syndrome. He’s developmentally different, not crazy. Sometimes these kids have an intelligence level that is off the scale.”

  “So what?”

  “So I’m saying that he might look and act different, but it’s possible that he’s smarter than anyone you have ever met.”

  At that moment, Sandra Grey, one of the forensics specialists, tapped a polite knock on the office doorjamb and leaned in. “Excuse me, but I thought you might like a preliminary report on our examination of John Webb’s house. It’s still a draft, but there are some interesting developments.” She looked over at Officer Boulli. “Of course, if you’re too busy right now, I can come back.” She pulled her head out of the office.

  “Wait.” As he stood up, Parker admired the effect of her professionally tailored suits. They added stature and an image of power to her petite frame. It couldn’t be easy to thrive in the very male world of law enforcement. “Please, I’m desperate for some intelligent enlightenment . . . unofficial, of course.” He walked out into the hallway with Sandra, closing his office door behind him.

  “How are you doing on your quest to rid the department of Officer Boulli?” she said in a quiet voice. “We’re counting on you, you know.”

  “It’s painful, but I’m determined. Still, the massive amount of documentation I have to collect ensures that only the most deserving are actually sent packing. However, I think this case may be the final straw needed for submitting the termination paperwork.”

  “Why this case?”

  “He’s settled on a suspect that I believe is totally innocent, a young man named Jacob Underwood,” he looked at her expectantly.

  “Underwood?” She raised her eyebrows, “Judge Underwood’s son?”

  Parker nodded.

  “Well done! She’ll filet him nicely and wrap up the remains in paperwork.”

  “That’s the plan. In the meantime, I can investigate the more likely suspects.”

  Sandra smiled, “I knew you were working behind the scenes. Who?”

  “There are several likely leads. One is the pub owner next door with financial issues who has borrowed a large sum of money from John Webb and might have had an issue with Hugh Trevor as well. There’s also the glass shop’s main competition, Frank Lattimer and finally, a property developer from out of town, Gregory Smythe. Now, please, cheer me up quickly with that summary.”

  “Just a few observations that will be thoroughly covered in my report.” She grinned until her eyes crinkled.

  “Of course.”

  “In a nutshell, the only other fingerprints in the house besides Mr. Webb, his daughter, and neighbor are Jacob Underwood’s and an unknown person.”

  “Jacob is a friend of the family.”

  “Yes, but both Jacob’s and the unknown’s fingerprints were on the loose tea canister on the kitchen counter. I’ve sent the canister contents to the lab for analysis.”

  “So, both victims were poisoned by tea.”

  “It appears that way at this point. There was a similar jar of herbs at the glass shop. I’ll give you a call when the toxicology reports are complete.” She gave him a little punch to the arm and walked briskly down the hallway.

  He smiled, opened his office door, then sat at his desk. “It appears we have a viable suspect.”

  “Who?” asked Officer Boulli, still holding the closed file folder.

  “Jacob Underwood. He’s attending a workshop at Webb’s Glass Shop and appears to be a friend of the family.”

  Parker plucked the file folder out of Boulli’s hands and placed it in the lower right-hand desk drawer. “I want you to pick him up for questioning.”

  “Arrest the kid?” Officer Boulli took his notebook out of his shirt pocket.

  “Yes, Jacob is a minor . . . although in Florida, there are no special processes—which by the way, you should already know. As a courtesy, call his parents and tell them so they can be involved.”

  “Yes, sir. What time should I pick him up?”

  Detective Parker glanced at the open calendar application on his PC. “You need to make sure the parents have plenty of time to get to the glass shop. Let’s go for three this afternoon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Officer, I want you to listen very carefully.” Detective Parker stood and made sure that he had Officer Boulli’s full attention.

  “Sir?”

  “This is your final chance. If you can’t get this right—calling his parents, meeting them there, bringing him in for questioning and properly processing him—I am recommending to the chief that you not be permitted to continue in this department. In fact, I will recommend that you won’t be permitted to continue employment with the police department in any capacity. Is that clear?”

  Officer Boulli stood, apparently recognizing the language as part of the termination process. He turned a gray-tinted face to the detective, swallowed, and finally cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. Perfectly clear.”

  Chapter 25

  Friday Afternoon

  Savannah snapped off a stem from the ugly aloe plant that grew in a plain terra cotta pot in the front window of the shop. It was lopsided and grossly misshapen from years of being used as the immediate healing topical for soldering iron burns.

  She cut the stem down the middle with an X-ACTO knife and spread the two halves wide. She squeezed it firmly, smeared the seeping goo from its inside edges onto Arthur’s tiny burn, and applied a Band-Aid onto Arthur’s left index finger without bruising either Arthur or an anxiously hovering Nancy.

  “Now, see what you’ve done?” Nancy planted her hands on her hips Superman style. “How can you play the cello with that? Are you determined to stay in third chair?” She heaved an exasperated breath and sat back down at her workstation whispering under her breath.

  “I remember from our first day, Arthur, you play the cello,” Savannah was concerned.

  “Well, not very well, but yes.”

  “Nonsense, Arthur.” Nancy patted him on the knee. “Tell them.”

  “I’ve been—”

  “He’s been appointed to second chair in the cello section of the Florida Orchestra,” Nancy blustered over her groom’s shy voice. “We just heard last night.”

  Savannah turned to Arthur. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations. More reason to be very careful in here.”

  Tack soldering resumed with little trouble and finally all were able to pick up their projects and hold them up to catch the afternoon sun. Savannah was thrilled at the diversity of color and design within the tiny group. I’ve been underestimating the value of teaching. I thought Dad was wasting his time. I was wrong. Completely wrong.

  “Now is the time if you need to make substantial changes,” she said. “It’s not hard to de-solder and rework the piece at this point. After this, it will be much more complicated.

  “The reason you might want to consider a bit of rework would be if the pieces don’t sit next to each other well. Basically, they won’t hold together after the next stage of the soldering process if that’s the case. That will make the piece weak and it may not be structurally sound enough to hang on a chain by its own.”

  A police siren blared down the street and two flashing vehicles pulled up in front. A cold shiver ran down Savannah’s back. Is someone else dead? Without a beat, she made sure everyone was in the room. The door jangled fiercely to announce the arrival
of Officer Boulli and a woman police officer. They stood in front of the cash register counter in the display room.

  Officer Boulli stood well in front of the woman with both thumbs tucked into his belt. “Miss Savannah Webb?”

  Savannah felt her brow crunch tight. He already knows me. Does he really need to ask again?

  “I’m Officer Boulli. We spoke earlier.” He took out his ID and showed her the badge and card.

  “Yes, Officer Boulli. This is the third time we’ve met. I expect to receive a friend request to your Facebook page any time now.”

  A look of mild confusion swept over his face, but he shook it off. “Do you have a student named Jacob Underwood here in the shop?”

  “Certainly. He’s right here.” She stepped back to let Officer Boulli see into the classroom, and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. “What’s the problem?”

  “I’m here regarding your case, Miss Webb. We are picking up Jacob and taking him downtown for questioning regarding the poisoning of Hugh Trevor and John Webb. We have notified his parents and they are meeting us here in just a few minutes. Where is he?”

  “What?” Savannah felt ice form around her heart. “You can’t do that. Why would you do that?”

  “Miss Webb, this is simply a part of any investigation. We can question anyone and take anyone into custody that might be a risk to himself or to others.”

  The young woman officer walked into the classroom. “Jacob, you must go with me into custody. Do you understand what that means?”

  Jacob’s eyes opened wide and all color drained from his face. “I have to take Suzy with me.” He looked at Savannah with pleading eyes. “That’s what my mother says, Miss Savannah. Everywhere—even custody.”

  The bell jangled a sharp ring as Jacob’s mother pushed the door open and her platform heels broadcast her determination to protect her son. She walked into the classroom, neatly sidestepped the policewoman, and placed a manicured but not lacquered hand on his forearm. “Jacob, slow breaths. Stay calm. I’m here.” She was dressed in an expensive dark navy-skirted suit with a red and white patterned silk shirt. She was calm and controlled. “Who’s in charge here? Why are there two police cars waiting outside flashing their lights? There’s no need for that sort of vulgar display. Everyone here is behaving in a perfectly civil manner.”

  “They’re taking Jacob away for questioning,” said Savannah, aware that her voice was high and trembling. She cleared her throat. “I was told that you had been notified and were on your way.”

  “I was lucky to get here in time. The call was only five minutes ago.” She gave a look to Officer Boulli that would shrink a giant. “My name is Frances Underwood, juvenile court judge for Pinellas County. You had better follow every procedure with extreme precision. Be acutely aware that I know more about law than you ever will.”

  She looked at Jacob, stood next to him, and put her right arm slowly and gently around his shoulders. “Suzy and I will be with you the entire time.”

  Frances again turned that chilling look at Officer Boulli. “Suzy will be with Jacob for the entire time. He will remain calm and not need medication if you let her stay with him. If anything else happens and it upsets Jacob because of you, I am prepared to do everything in my considerable power to make sure you won’t do it again.”

  “We have to take the dog?” Officer Boulli pulled and reseated his truncheon, then rested his hand on his service revolver. He sighed deeply and muttered loud enough for everyone to hear plainly, “It’s never simple.”

  He glared at the female officer. “Take Jacob. Take the judge. Take the dog. Just get them downtown so we can start a proper interrogation.” He stomped out the door and nearly banged the bell off its hook.

  Frances nodded. “Jacob, let’s get Suzy. It’s best if you leave everything else here. We want to keep things as uncomplicated as possible. This nice policewoman is going to take care of things properly.”

  The female officer smiled. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very helpful.”

  The policewoman bundled Jacob and his mother into the back of her patrol car. She carefully checked that all were seated and buckled in and that Suzy was safe in Jacob’s arms. They drove away.

  Edward walked into the shop. “What the bloody hell is going on?”

  Savannah looked at him. “They’ve taken Jacob downtown for questioning.”

  Edward blurted, “What?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think they are going to charge him. Boulli believed he killed Hugh. I don’t know what they think about Dad yet.” Savannah looked at Jacob’s vacant workspace and felt true frustration.

  Edward raised his hand and brushed back his hair. He looked into Savannah’s eyes. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’ve got to follow Dad’s ciphers and find the real killer.”

  Chapter 26

  Friday Afternoon

  After what seemed like a hundred years, Edward left and everyone returned to the classroom in silent single file. They sat at their worktables and tried to make more progress on their sun catchers.

  Reluctantly, Savannah tidied Jacob’s work space, put his tools in his canvas carryall, and tucked it under the worktable. She held his project up to the light, admired the precise solder joins, then placed it on his working board and made sure his project was pinned securely. I don’t understand how Officer Boulli thinks Jacob is a viable suspect.

  She walked over to the twins’ worktable. Rachel had smeared great gobs of flux across the entire piece. “This is a little too much for the purpose and will interfere with the smooth appearance that we’re trying to achieve.”

  “I told you that was too much flux.” Faith leaned over to point the soldering iron at her sister’s glass.

  “No waving the soldering iron,” snapped Savannah. She caught Faith’s arm in mid-gesture and gently pushed it toward the soldering iron holder. “Keep that in the holder if you’re not actually using it.”

  Nancy was watching Arthur like a hawk, ready to pounce at the first misstep. Savannah looked at Arthur’s progress and imagined what the upset might do to him. She expected to see a hot mess and maybe have to treat a few more burns.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. This is simply not going to work. I’m too upset to teach and that means it’s not safe for us to continue class today. Let’s all clean up and start again tomorrow.”

  When that had been accomplished, she said good-bye to the newlyweds and the twins, but asked Amanda to stay behind. She went into the office, opened her backpack, and took out the novel and the sheet of onion skin. She brought them back to the classroom and opened the book to page 337 and lined up the holes.

  “What on earth is that?” Amanda leaned over the workbench.

  “The cipher I showed you and Jacob earlier fits over a page in this novel to reveal the clue. I’ve asked Edward to come and help us get to the end of the trail. It may clear Jacob. Can you help?”

  “Absolutely. It just can’t be Jacob. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Literally. I’ve seen him shoo flies outside like a cowboy and catch lizards just to carry them outside rather than kill them. That’s way more compassion than I have or anyone I’ve ever met has.”

  “Have you found out anything on Smythe? Do you know where he was during Hugh’s murder?” Savannah asked.

  “I signed up as a follower to his Twitter feed. It felt sleazy, because I really, really don’t like that slime bucket, but it turns out that he, unfortunately, was absolutely elsewhere during the times Mr. Webb died and when Hugh was murdered.”

  “Where was he?”

  “He was back in Atlanta attending a week-long diversity training seminar. He kept tweeting how useless it was. He was driving back on Monday morning after spending the weekend at his condo. He takes a picture of every meal he eats and posts it to his Twitter feed. I guess after prison food, you would appreciate the small things. He’s not the one. Disappointing, I know, but he’s not the one.”

  Savannah looked
into Amanda’s sad violet eyes. “Then we have one more person it isn’t and one more reason why the police think it’s Jacob. We have to work harder.”

  The ring of her cell phone made Savannah jump, the display showed Judge Underwood as the caller. “What’s happening?”

  “The police are preparing to question Jacob, but I wanted to tell you that Officer Boulli came by and told us that the forensic specialists matched Jacob’s fingerprints to the coffee cup that Hugh used on that Monday morning. He wasn’t supposed to tell us and now Detective Parker is furious with him.”

  Savannah said, “But it can’t be Jacob.”

  “The essential problem is that he has no alibi and Boulli can’t get beyond that. My husband and I leave for work at six every morning. Jacob gets himself up and fed, then walks over to Webb’s. That’s why I have the best defense lawyer in the state with me. But anyway, I wanted to tell you that this idiot officer told us that Hugh and John died from the same poison. I wasn’t sure if they had told you.”

  “Detective Parker called this morning to tell me. He seems competent.”

  “That will be refreshing. This may take some time because there’s no hard evidence and fingerprints on a cup in a common workroom do not a murder make. The district attorney will want a confession.”

  “If there’s anything we can do for you, let us know.”

  “Thanks. I’ve got to go. It looks like your detective is ready to start the interview.”

  “Thanks for the call. I truly appreciate it.”

  Edward rushed into the shop and went directly into the classroom. “How’s it going? Is there any news about Jacob?”

  Savannah put away her cell and felt a frown appear. “His mother called. The police are planning to question Jacob. She’s hired a top-notch lawyer. She was angry and worried, but she’s a judge and knows the ins and outs of the process.”

  Edward perched on a work stool. “Why is she worried?”

  Savannah pulled a stool from the next table and sat beside him. “Apparently, they found his fingerprints on the coffee cup that Hugh used early Monday.”