Steve Demaree - Dekker 09 - Murder on a Blind Date

by Steve Demaree

  Things seemed palatable until I looked down to see someone's feet planted beside our table, and it wasn't our server.

  "So, Edgar, what's she got that I ain't got? And I bought some new Ed Wood movies and was going to have you out to the trailer park. Guess you'll have to get your own movies now."

  I didn't have to look up. I recognized Bambi Fontaine's voice. I studied her hands to make sure one of them didn't have a needle in it, then responded.

  I mumbled, "I'll tell you later," and she stormed off. Before she turned away I glanced at her and saw she wasn't wearing a white rose, so I figured she wasn't there to meet Man Number Three.

  Once she was gone, I turned to Lucy and said, "That was the first one the dating service fixed me up with."

  The brilliant conversationalist muttered, "oh," then returned to her food.

  I was relieved when dessert was over and she offered to let me leave first. I was sure that her offer didn't have anything to do with another man coming to take my place.

  As far as I was concerned my dating experience through the service in Lexington was over. I knew that if I didn't send those two cards back that I wouldn't receive the names of any more women. It was time to switch techniques and find out as quickly as possible who was murdering these people. I spent most of the trip home going over my list of suspects. Could one of the women I dated be the one who is roaming the country murdering single men and women? It didn't make sense for the owners of the dating service to be responsible. That was how they made their living. So was it someone who had used the service that I hadn't met yet, or someone close to one of them?

  23

  I picked up Lou around 8:30. He sashayed out the front door, and walked around and put his overnight bag in the back of the van. I heard the thud as he shut the back, and he walked around and opened the passenger side door. The first thing he asked was how my date was the night before. Luckily he didn't ask about the night before that. Lou would have loved to have known about Eve Sanchez and Sarah Jane Fulkerson.

  "Well, Lou this one looked like I might have been her first date. Ever. I can see her striking out three times, unless she meets some guy just like she is. But you'll be pleased to know that the woman you saw me with when everyone in Hilldale followed me that night was there too, and she dropped by our table for old time sake."

  "So, she had another date last night?"

  "No. She was just there. I don't know why."

  "Sizing you up for the kill, was she?"

  "I don't know about that, but she did threaten me."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes, she has rescinded my invitation to come to her trailer and watch an Ed Wood movie marathon."

  "Oh, I didn't realize that you had been invited. Holding out on me, are you, Cy?"

  "Actually she hadn't seen me to deliver the invitation. But that's okay. We'll get to see her again. I want you to size her up and see if she could have been the one who dumped you in her trunk and then left you in the house without an entrance or exit."

  "The place had an entrance and exit. It was just well hidden, from both the inside and the outside. The place should have a sign on the inside. 'In case of fire get up a head of steam and make your own door or window.'"

  "Lou, you'd better watch where you go to sleep from now on. So, what about Bambi Fontaine, trailer park maven?"

  "If I say 'keep her on the list,' does that mean I don't have to see her?"

  "Lou, as of now, think of yourself as my back-up. Keep me away from any needle, syringe, or other apparatus that might end my time on Earth prematurely."

  "Does that include cheesecake?"

  "No, cheesecake isn't an apparatus."

  "But too much cheesecake can end your time on Earth prematurely."

  "Oh, didn't I tell you. I'm out of the dating game. From now on I'm merely encountering suspects and sizing them up."

  "Well, I'd say that Bambi Fontaine could be a size sixteen, although I think the dress she was wearing that night was a fourteen."

  We hadn't gone very far until we quit talking and listened to Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels warn us about a Devil With a Blue Dress On. It made me wonder if Sirius XM Radio would be giving me clues, or would God continue to give all of them to Lou. Could Bambi be the devil with a blue dress on? I tried to remember, but I didn't think any of my dates had worn a blue dress.

  +++

  I planned to start my investigation from the beginning, which meant my first encounter with anyone involved would be with the couple who implemented the dating service. After a drive the old way, without interstates, and stopping for breakfast, I pulled up in front of a large, upscale home in one of Lexington's most respected older neighborhoods.

  "Well, Lou. This is it. We're on."

  "You're on, Cy. I didn't get any credentials for this."

  "But you still have my back, don't you?"

  "We'll see how it goes."

  I stepped out of the van and headed up the walkway toward a three-story, red brick house with a large front porch. No one was sitting on the front porch sipping an iced tea, inviting me to come up and sit a spell. Not a lot of people in Kentucky are porch-sitters in January. And no one was holding open the front door to welcome us either, so I arrived at the door and rang the bell. A few seconds later a woman around fifteen years my senior opened the door.

  "Are you gentlemen here because of the dating service?"

  "We are."

  "Well, I'm afraid we can't do anything in person. Each of you will have to fill out an application and mail it in. Then we will contact you about your date and where you are to meet the woman who'll be your date."

  "I've already done that."

  "Then you should have received something in the mail."

  "I did. And I've gone out with three women you have fixed me up with."

  "I guess none of them worked out, and now you're here to complain."

  "No. One of them was quite nice."

  "Then you're here to thank us."

  "Actually, I'm here about some people who won't be using your service anymore."

  "Shouldn't they be the one contacting us? What's your connection?"

  "They can't contact you because they are dead, and my reason for being here is they were murdered. I'm Cy Dekker, Special Investigator for the Lexington Police Department, and this is my associate, Lou Murdock."

  The word "murdered" seemed to unnerve the woman. She looked at me for a few seconds to sense if I was telling the truth. Evidently my serious demeanor convinced her I was.

  "Murdered. Surely you don't think we had anything to do with it."

  "I'm not accusing you of anything. I just have a few questions. Are you Edna Comstock?"

  "No, I'm her mother, Irma Childers. Arthur and Edna are in the back. See, the front room is our office. They live in the rest of the house. Would you like for me to get them for you?"

  "I would. Do you mind if we come in?"

  I could tell that she minded, but she knew she was afraid of what we might do if she said "no," so she opened the door and motioned us to a couple of chairs while she went to fetch her daughter and son-in-law."

  A minute or so later, Mrs. Childers returned with the Comstocks.

  "Irma said something about murder, and that our service is involved. What is this all about? I don't know anything about a murder."

  "Mr. Comstock, I'm not accusing any of the three of you of any wrongdoing, but I do have some questions for you. I would like to talk to each of you separately, and I'd like to start with you, Mr. Comstock."

  He turned to look at the two women, who seemed to understand what alone meant, so they left for another part of the house.

  "Please have a seat. Can I get you gentleman something to drink before we start? We have coffee, iced tea, soft drinks, and water."

  "No thank you. I just have a few questions for each of you. Mr. Comstock, I'll be straightforward with you. I've been working on this for over a week. I've used a couple of aliases and te
sted your service to see how it works."

  "You mean you've actually met some women using our service?"

  "That's right."

  "I'm sorry to hear that you were less than honest with us. I hope you'll share the details with us, so we can inform the women you dated. But I hope you were satisfied with our service."

  "I'm sorry I deceived these women, too, but there have been several murders involving men and women who have used your service, and it's possible someone else who has used your service may be responsible."

  "Really? Well, as you know, we don't screen our clients. If that turns out to be true, maybe we should start doing so."

  "Why don't we begin with you telling me how the process works from your standpoint. Act like I know nothing about how it works."

  "Well, for the most part, my wife and I have always thought that married couples are happier than single people. Like I said, there are exceptions. Some people are better off being single. But most of the happy people we have known over the years are married. Of course, that's if they married the right person," he said as he laughed.

  "Anyway, a few years ago, I felt I needed to make a career change. I was tired of the rat race. My wife and I were talking one day and we came up with the idea of a matchmaking service. We planned to bring single men and single women together for a small fee. To match the right people together we needed to find out something about each of these people. And so, Just For You was born. The name was my wife's idea. I didn't particularly care for it, but I agreed to go along with her whims. We started out part-time. In a few short months, we had managed to save enough money to ride it out for six months if we kept our expenses down. Well, I'm here to tell you the success of the service has exceeded our wildest dreams. And naturally, I was able to quit my job. I haven't regretted it yet."

  "Up until the murders."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Once news gets out about these murders you might have to have another career change."

  "But we didn't have anything to do with them."

  "And we hope to prove that. But someone is responsible, and you might be able to help us find out who it is. So, please carry on. Tell me more about your service."

  "Well, you know most of this, but here's how it works. For the most part we have no idea how many clients we will have each day until the mail arrives. The mailman dropped off our mail this morning, a few minutes before you arrived. My mother-in-law brought it back to us, and my wife and I were busy going through it when you rang. Anyway, each day, when it arrives, we check to see if we have any new clients. If we do we look to make sure they mailed us a check, and if they filled out the application correctly. Once we have done that, we separate the applications into two stacks, one for men, one for women. Then we will go through each application to see if each person is a close enough match to send them out on a date with another of our applicants. While making money is important to us, we want to be able to match each client with someone with whom they can begin a relationship. In order to match people, all three of us goes over each application. Two of the three of us must agree before we put a couple together. If we find a match in either that day's mail or our files, we put something in the mail to both of them the next morning. We set up their date for a few days after they receive their notification. The mailman knows the nature of our business and always stops to give us our mail as soon as possible, and to see if we have any outgoing mail. Most days we do."

  "Do you ever have someone that you feel is not a good match for any of your other applicants?"

  "In the two years we have done this, we've had only two in the Central Kentucky area. If we don't arrange a dinner date for someone within six weeks, we send them a note of apology and refund their money."

  "Please go on with what happens next."

  "Well, we mail each client information that has the name of the person they are to meet, where they are to meet them, and the time."

  "How did you happen upon The Cheesecake Factory as a place for them to meet?"

  "We were around before The Cheesecake Factory opened in Lexington, so it hasn't always been the place where our couples meet. But when that restaurant opened, we thought it would be a natural for what we were doing. Just walking into that place cheers up a person, and with the wait they usually have to get a table it allows each couple some time to get to know each other before dinner. We just ask them to refrain from giving the other person their last name and where they live. Did these murders happen when these couples were out on their dates?"

  "No. Later."

  "Then why associate them with our company?"

  "Because the only connection we have for all of them is that they used your agency. Please carry on."

  "Well, each couple goes on a date, then mails us back a green, yellow, or red card as to the success of that date. Part of what the mailman delivers each day are those cards. If both the man and the woman send us back a green card, we send each of them the full name, address, and phone number of the person they dated, so that they can get on with seeing if they are meant for each other. We have had a few of our couples marry. But if the date didn't work out for one of them, or if someone isn't sure and wants another date with someone else, we go through the matching process again. We give each person up to three chances to find the person of their dreams."

  "And have you had anyone who still wasn't satisfied after three dates?"

  "A few."

  "Any of them get angry and call you?"

  "A couple, but that is rare. While not everyone makes a love connection, most feel their experience was worth the hundred dollars they paid."

  "Are you, your wife, and your mother-in-law always at home?"

  "Not always. We don't usually go anywhere until after the mail arrives a little before 10:00 and we have had a chance to go over any new applications. We also respond immediately to any cards we receive. Once we have done this any of us is free to go out. We are more likely to be out after that if the weather is good."

  "Do the three of you go out together, or alone?"

  "During the day, one of us is usually here, but there are occasions that all of us are gone for a while. Sometimes one of us goes out alone, but sometimes we go out together. As you can see, my mother-in-law is far from an invalid. And in case you don't know, she lives in the house next door. She comes over each morning around 9:00. Sometimes my wife and I go somewhere together. Sometimes my wife and mother-in-law go out shopping or to lunch together."

  "Do any of your trips out follow a pattern, like the same time of day, or the same day of the week?"

  "Nothing except I usually get my haircut every other Tuesday, and my wife and her mother usually go to the beauty parlor every Friday."

  "Mr. Comstock, I would like for you to write down for us the names and addresses of people who weren't at all pleased with your service, and I'd like a printout of each of your successes and failures and what cards were returned by whom and on what day you received those return cards. There is a connection between each of the victims, but I'm not ready to reveal it at this time. Oh, and do you know what hours each of your clients are at home? Like whether they work during the day or not?"

  "I can't tell you that for sure, but you will know if each person works and what type of work he or she does. As for the information you request, can I put this on a thumb drive for you?"

  "That would be fine."

  "It will take several minutes for me to find everything you need, but all of what you asked for is already in our files on the computer."

  "That's okay. You can be working on it while I talk to your wife and mother-in-law. Can you send your wife in now? And please refrain from talking to your mother-in-law about what we have discussed."

  "As you wish."

  Comstock left and was replaced a few seconds later by his wife. Her answers matched her husband's, but she was a little more irritated about my charade and the fact that we think the dating service had something to do with the murders. H
er mother too, provided little information, but she did give us one suspect.

  "One of our clients was a guy named Charles Hacker. None of the women we paired him with wanted to date him again. Well, he called back a few times, threatening us, and our surveillance camera captured him dumping garbage in our front yard late one night."

  "What did you do about it?"

  "Nothing. Arthur was afraid he would do it again if we sent the police to see him. But if he had done it a second time I would have called them."

  Each time one person left to get another, I turned to Lou and asked him if I had forgotten anything. The first two times he shook his head, the third time he mentioned lunch.

  Comstock came back with the information I requested just after I finished questioning his mother-in-law. He had remembered another unhappy client. Marge Shockley.

  "She didn't like any of the three men we fixed her up with and she accused us of only catering to riffraff. A couple of times she called back, but hung up. I know this because we have Caller ID, but I don't think she was smart enough to pick up on that."

  +++

  As we sat out front of Comstock's house, before we pulled away, I picked up my phone and punched in a number. When Sam answered I asked him for pictures of Charles Hacker and Marge Shockley, and asked if he could send them to my phone.

  24

  We had just left the Comstocks on the way to grab some lunch when Lou turned to me.

  "Cy, I almost forgot. I got another message today."

  "Okay. Out with it."