“Yes, I am sure his death is a great tragedy,” Reightman responded to the brief soliloquy and held out her hand, “It’s nice to meet you Miz….”
“My name is Moon. Detective, just Moon. Not a first name, nor a last name. Just Moon, like the beautiful gleaming orb that sails through the night sky.”
Reightman decided that Moon most probably had a background in theater, or had perhaps learned elocution from a tragic Byronesque poet. “I was wondering if I can ask you a few questions? “
“Most assuredly, Detective. I will happily pledge to assist you in any way which might help Geri’s gentle, slain spirit find its just and peaceful rest.”
Reightman collected her thoughts with some effort, having been momentarily enthralled by the mournful cadence coming from Moon’s scarlet painted mouth. “Can you tell me if you noticed anything out of the ordinary over the last few weeks, especially the days immediately prior to Mr. Guzman’s death?”
Moon assumed a classical thoughtful expression, and touched one long exquisitely manicured finger nail to her full lips. The polish on the nail matched, exactly. “Alas, Detective,” she exhaled breathlessly, disappointment trembling in her voice, “I fear I’ve failed to noticed anything or anyone out of the ordinary on any of the past days.”
“How about during the evening hours?”
“On what night was the beautiful Geri so dreadfully slain? Please remind me, the days do blend together so.”
“Mr. Guzman was murdered last Wednesday night.”
“Oh!” Moon gave a startled exclamation as she was reminded how few days had passed since the murder. “Yes, it was just this last week wasn’t it, Madame?” When the tiny woman gave her an affirmative nod, Moon whispered, “The fickle inconsistent wings of Time have flown so very swiftly.” Moon tapped her finger on her lips and then, without her usual, adjective laden verbosity added, “I remember seeing two mysterious cars in the lot across the street. I thought that it was odd at the time.”
“Why did the cars strike you as mysterious, Moon?”
“Because, Detective, they were there!” Moon declaimed with a flourish of her arms. “There are hardly ever cars in the lot during the sultry summer evening hours when all of our wonderful and gloriously unique shops are closed. That there were two on the same night was very mysterious.”
“I see,” Reightman responded slowly, wondering if something in the water on Capital Street had somehow affected every shop keepers in the area. “Could you describe them, or did you by chance write down a license plate number?”
“I’m terribly afraid I failed to do that, Detective. You see, it was inky black with deep and doleful darkness that evening and the moon, the gracious lady of the heavens, had not yet risen to grace the evening sky.”
After decoding the response, Reightman deduced Moon was unable to describe the cars and had not written down the plates. “Thank you anyway, Moon. I appreciate the information.”
“But of course, Detective. My heart is filled to overflowing with sorrow, knowing I was unable to be of any service.” She shook Reightman’s hand with a surprising firm grasp and turned to Zhou. “Madame, if you will allow me to mention, I do have a few new items of delectable and irresistible beauty I feel will be of the utmost interest to you, just inside.”
“That is wonderful, dear. I’ll be in momentarily, just as soon as I finish with the Detective.” Moon glided back into her shop and Zhou Li turned to Reightman “I’m sorry she wasn’t able to help, Detective, and I know she’s disappointed as well. She thinks very fondly of Toby, and always appreciated Geri.”
“Appreciated him?”
“She’s been one of the spa’s regular clients ever since Toby opened. Moon felt Geri Guzman had the most skillful technique of anyone on the staff.”
Reightman found herself wondering if Guzman had employed the same skillful techniques he’d apparently offered to others in the city, but quickly dismissed the thought from her mind. “I’m sorry she wasn’t able to provide more information as well, Madame Zhou, but I’m really not surprised. It was a long shot anyway.”
“Where are you off to now, Detective?”
“Well, I need to do a little shopping.” Reightman’s tone described exactly how she felt about shopping in general, and this task, in specific. “I need to pick up a small gift for Chief Kelly’s administrative assistant. I’m not sure where to go, though.”
“Perhaps I can help, Detective. Do you have an idea what you are looking for in the way of a gift?”
“No, not really. I thought maybe I could find a scarf, or a trendy pair of earrings. Something like that.”
“It may surprise you, Detective, but you’re already in the best place possible. I am sure Moon has a wonderful selection from which you can choose something.”
Reightman glanced doubtfully to the window, trying to imagine Nancy’s reaction to a pale pink prom dress.
Madame Zhou followed her gaze and said dismissively, “Don’t pay any attention to that tawdry stuff, Detective. Moon just drags it out from the basement every year about this time. Several of the local sororities plan themed rush parties right about now. She wouldn’t normally be caught with any of that kind of thing, but, regardless of her theatrical demeanor and her somewhat excessive use of words, she is a very shrewd business woman. There are very few people with her innate sense of style and fashion in this city.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Detective. Now, lend me your arm please. There’s a slight step up at the door and I would appreciate your assistance.”
Reightman dutiful escorted Madame Zhou into the shop. As they stepped over the threshold her eyes widened slightly. She had expected piles of dusty clothes displayed on card tables, and stacks of badly worn shoes lined up along the floor. The inside of Passed Around was about as far from that as it was possible for a shop to be.
The deeply polished antique wooden floor was covered by what appeared to be, to Reightman’s admittedly untrained eyes, very good quality rugs. Round clothing racks similar to those found in high-end department stores were dotted about the store, filled with clothing arranged by style and size. Recessed shelving lit with small spot lights held shoes and handbags, and there were several shelves filled with accessories of assorted natures and colors. There was also a small locked jewelry case near the counter.
“Oh, Madame Zhou…” Moon came through a door at the back of the shop, carrying a couple of filled garment bags and an immense old fashioned hatbox.
“The Detective is in need of a gift today, Moon, and I assured her this would be a wonderful place to find one.”
“You do me too much honor, Madame, in recommending my humble shop.” Moon touched her hand to her heart in a show of appreciation and then turned to Melba. “How may I help, Detective?”
“Well, as Madame Zhou mentioned, I’m in need of a small gift for an associate at work. It’s for the Police Chief’s secretary. I was thinking that either a pair of earrings or a scarf would be nice.”
“Could you describe this most worthy personage for me, Detective?”
“Yes, of course.” Reightman launched in with a description which took longer than she’d anticipated, because she was required to pause occasionally to answer Moon’s many, interjected questions.
Once she’d finished, Moon closed her eyes as if savoring the description with deep appreciation. “That was just wonderful, Detective. I feel that I know her as I know a close and dear friend.” After a moment more of silent contemplation, Moon opened her eyes, focused on the task at hand. “I think I know just the thing! One moment, while I get it.” Moon went directly to one of the shops many shelves and returned with a small folded bundle. When she reached the counter, she unfurled it for their inspection, causing a considerable length of fabric to flutter gracefully in the air before settling on the counter. The scarf which Moon had retrieved from the shelves was made of some light, cobwebby material the color of the summer sky and was artfully embellished wit
h large, appliqued daisies. One or two large, brightly colored butterflies were embroidered on the material, as if they were flitting from flower to flower. It looked exactly like something Nancy would wear – if she was possessed of good taste.
“It’s beautiful.” Melba had never seen anything like it before.
“It is indeed, lovely.” Zhou Li stroked the fabric with a tiny hand. “The silk is very good quality and the hand-work is excellently executed.”
“Yes, isn’t it absolutely, unbelievably breathtaking?” Moon gushed. “It is a Paris original from the late 1950s and it is in perfect condition. I don’t know who the designer was, to my misfortune and regret. Alas, there was not a tag. But it’s of exceptionally high quality.”
Reightman, having heard the words silk, Paris original and exceptionally high quality, was afraid the scarf was way out of her price range. “I’m afraid to ask, but, how much is it?” Moon walked behind the counter and wrote something down on a small piece of paper. She folded it once and handed it to Melba, who opened the paper and read the number. She blinked in shock. “But this can’t be right!”
The scarf was expensive, but much less so than she’d feared. Reightman considered the possibility of enduring the ongoing Wrath of Nancy, and weighed that unpleasantness against two or three boxes of Zinfandel. “What the heck? After all, you’re not drinking much besides your tea these days, and dealing with Nancy’s snit fit for any longer than necessary is out of the question.” Melba fingered the silk, and thought about the purchase. “I’ll take it,” Reightman heard herself say. “Could you just put it in a bag please?”
“I will most absolutely not just put it in a bag, Detective!” Moon objected. “A scarf of this vintage and supreme workmanship deserves the most wonderful wrapping.” She excused herself and went through the door at the back of the shop.
“You see, Detective, Moon has the most wonderful things, and most of them are more than reasonably priced,” Madame Zhou commented. “That is the beauty of shopping at a reputable resale shop owned by someone like Moon. She never accepts any merchandise but that of the best quality and condition. She usually knows something about the background of every item she sells. And she is very, very discreet. She has clients all over the southeast, both buyers and sellers.”
A few minutes later, Moon returned from the back of the shop carrying a dramatically wrapped package. The paper was dark midnight blue, as was the ribbon and bow. From underneath the bow hung a heavy embossed round paper disk about the size of a silver dollar. The disk depicted a stylized smiling moon.
“Thank you, Moon. This is beautiful.”
“You’re very welcome, Detective. I am happy to have been of some small service to you, at least in this matter,” Moon gracefully referred to her earlier failure to provide a description, or license plate information for either of the mysterious cars. “Will there be anything else? Perhaps something as a treat for yourself?”
Reightman suddenly felt dowdy and run-down in her serviceable, but old and very dull suit. Moon however, didn’t give the slightest indication, by look or tone, that she found anything objectionable with her attire. Zhou however, was looking at her with hope. “I’m afraid this will be all for today.” Reightman replied, catching the disappointed frown forming on Zhou’s face. “Although, I’ll be back soon to find something for myself.” She paid the bill and, after thanking both the smiling shopkeeper and Madame Zhou, she walked out the door of Passed Around. Reightman put the package in the backseat of her car and then dialed Toby Bailey. He answered right away.
“Hey, Detective Melba.”
“Hello, Toby.” She rolled her eyes at his use of the previously suggested form of address, but since she kind of liked it, she let it pass. “Did you get my message?” She leaned against the hood of the car, and quickly stood up again. The hood was already hot from the morning sun.
“Yes, I was at the gym and then went for a run. I’m all done now, and even freshly showered. You want to meet now?’
“If it works for you. How about here at the spa? I’m right out front.”
There was a pause before he answered. “Yeah, sure. That’ll be fine. I’ll be over in a couple of minutes.”
“I’ll be the one out front, standing in the hot sun.”
Not five minutes later, Toby came out of the stairwell entrance that led up to his apartment. “It’s a scorcher out here already,” he said by way of greeting. He quickly unlocked the door and ushered her inside to the cool air. “What’s up?” he asked as he flipped on a few lights and started toward the hall that led to his office.
“I’ve got a few things I need to bring you up to date on,” she said following him down the hall. “Some of it’s not great news, I’m afraid.” Toby unlocked the door to his office and opened the door for her. “I don’t remember you having a lock on this door.”
“I didn’t. I had it added yesterday. I thought it would be more secure.”
“Probably a good idea,” she agreed as he seated himself behind the desk.
“So, what’s the bad news, Detective Melba?”
Reightman dropped her bag in one of the chairs in front of his desk, and took a seat in the other. She decided the best way to break the news was to just hit it head-on. “Toby, I‘m sorry, but they will not be able to release Mr. Guzman’s body as I’d hoped.”
“But why not, Detective?”
She noted the clouded, confused look in his eyes as she prepared to share what she knew. “It’s a long story, Toby. Bear with me, and I’ll try and explain it.” She walked him through her discovery of Geraldo Guzman’s phone and the surprising find of the prints and the pictures. When she got to their current hunt for Lieberman, he interrupted.
“So, what you are telling me, Detective, is the evidence related to the autopsy results is compromised and the work will have to be redone.”
She sat back in the chair, surprised. “Yes. How did you know?”
“I may be a dumb spa jockey, but even I watch TV. I know cop shows on the tube are exaggerated, but I guess in this case they’d be right.”
“In this case, they are.” He didn’t reply but looked down at the top of his desk. “Toby, I really am very sorry. I know how badly you want to get this chapter closed.”
He looked up at her with an indecipherable expression. “That’s an interesting way to put it – this chapter closed.” He fiddled with a pencil on the desk for a few seconds before asking, “What’s the next chapter, Detective?”
“I don’t understand the question. Do you mean, what are the steps to be completed before we can release Geri’s remains?”
He regarded her across the desk, his face almost expressionless. “Yes, that’s what I’m asking. I’m just trying to come to terms with things.”
“I know it’s tough to be in this situation, Toby.” He dropped his eyes for a minute and then looked up at her, preparing himself to hear what she had to say. “The new acting coroner should be in the office today,” Reightman eventually continued. “I assure you, I plan to apply as much pressure as possible to make sure releasing Geri Guzman’s remains is the top priority. Even given the nature of the case, and the events that led to us to call in a new acting coroner, I think I’ll be successful.” After he nodded his understanding, she continued, “As important as releasing Geri’s remains are to you, having all the evidence verified and confirmed are, to me, equally important. Short of finding Lieberman, I can’t think of anything more important right now.”
“What are you hoping they’ll find out from the autopsy?”
“I don’t know for sure,” she admitted, while considering what she could reasonably tell him without crossing the line. Deciding he had the right to know the basics, she laid it out for him. "The autopsy will firstly confirm the cause of death. The coroner will examine the wounds and confirm their match with the suspected murder weapon. He’ll then determine if the wounds sustained were indeed the cause of death, or if there was another cause, or set, of
contributing causes. I don’t know what to expect, but that’s where he’ll start. He’ll also take samples and send them for a toxicology screening, to rule out the presence of drugs or unusual substances. This should have all been completed, but I think you understand why we couldn’t trust the results even if it had been. As callous as it sounds, it’s a good thing we caught on to Lieberman when we did, and now have a chance to re-verify the evidence. Otherwise, we might have never known who was responsible for your friend’s death.”
Toby listened to her words, and then asked the question which had been bothering him since she’d first told him about Lieberman’s involvement. “Why didn’t you tell me you had Geri’s phone, Detective?”
Reightman looked at the hands clasped in her lap, feeling a little guilty about her deception. “I couldn’t, Toby.” She met his eyes.” I wasn’t sure the phone belonged to Geri. I thought it might have belonged to–”
“Me.”
“Yes. I thought there was a remote possibility it might have been yours.”
Toby leaned back in his chair and looked at the picture that included his grandmother, Geri and himself. After a long and uncomfortable moment of silence, he straightened his chair. “I understand, Detective. I think it was the smart thing for you to do, all things considered.” He leaned forward and folded his arms on the desk. “What’s next with Lieberman?”
“Our team is working to find him, along with every other resource the department can spare. There are bulletins out everywhere, and I have two additional officers working directly with Jackson and me. We will find him.” Toby didn’t respond to her last assurance. Instead, he watched her from across the desk, rolling the pencil in his fingers. She had no idea what was going on behind his blue eyes. After a moment she asked, “Do you ever remember Geri mentioning Lieberman? Did you ever see them together?”
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