Accidental Deaths (A Willows and Parker Mystery)

by Laurence Gough

  The eyes, they said, were the windows of the soul.

  Tell it to the crows.

  Willows took Eloise Simpson gently by the arm. “Is there any more coffee?”

  “Why, yes. Would you like a cup?”

  “Please,” said Willows, guiding her back inside. She was barely five feet tall, but had excellent posture. He’d never seen such brilliant blue eyes. He held the screen door open for her.

  She smiled warmly up at him, and despite the circumstances, he was charmed. Eloise Simpson’s house was brown stucco with green trim. It should have been made of gingerbread studded with a rainbow of candies, smothered in frosting white as her hair.

  22

  Lulu couldn’t believe the way Frank was acting. Talk about morose. Like he’d just found out his new zip code was located in the Valley of the Doomed. Her wonderful guy. Hard as a sidewalk. Tough as nails. And just look at him now.

  It was ten o’clock in the morning. They’d been up since seven. During those three hours Frank had hardly spoken a word to her. She was hungry, on the verge of crankiness, but he refused to let her leave the room or even pick up the phone and call room service.

  Because Newt might call, summoning them to breakfast, and he didn’t want his boss frustrated by a busy signal.

  Frank, watching her, knowing exactly what she was thinking and not blaming her one little bit, said, “Why don’t you see if there’s something on TV?”

  “Because there isn’t, that’s why. There never is, and everybody knows it.”

  “I thought you kind of liked Merv.”

  “I hate Merv.”

  “What about Geraldo?”

  “The guy can’t even pronounce his own name.” She brightened. “I like the way he does his hair, though. And hasn’t he got a wonderful sense of humour?”

  Frank lit a cigarette. It tasted terrible. He’d never been one of those guys who smoked before breakfast. Plus he’d been trying to cut down, so he’d live longer. Now wasn’t that a good one?

  Lulu wandered around the room, picking things up and putting them down. The air was hot and stuffy. She’d turned the air conditioner off because something had gone wrong with the fan and the noise bothered her, and now she wanted Frank to open a window but couldn’t bring herself to ask. What if he was so petrified of Newt and his scumbug buddy that he couldn’t move? What if he tried to open the window and didn’t have the strength? Lulu felt utterly betrayed by this new turn of events. Since their late-night meeting with Newt and Rikki, the ooze twins, her lover had been a stranger to her, silent, brooding, ineffectual. He’d been the pillar she had finally decided to lean on, and now it seemed he could hardly hold himself up, never mind her.

  All that training, and she’d bet on the wrong horse!

  She went over to the window and looked down. Under the spotlight glare of the sun, the streets and buildings were black and white, monochromatic. Even the cars and pedestrians struggling for control of the intersections seemed to have had all the colour bleached out of them.

  She tried to unlock the double-glazed hotel window and chipped a nail. Brother! Just when it seemed that things couldn’t get worse … Behind her, the bed creaked. Then Frank was standing beside her, kissing her wounded finger with a simple tenderness that made her shiver all over. Effortlessly, he pushed open the window.

  Lulu said, “We’re going to have to kill them, Frank. Newt and Rikki. Both of them.”

  “In alphabetical order, or what?”

  “If we don’t do it to them, they’re going to do it to us. Did you see the way the little creep stared at me?”

  Frank nodded.

  She said, “I’m not just talking about Rikki. I mean both of them.”

  “I know what you mean, honey.”

  “Then you damn well know what those filthy, perverted little sewer-brains were thinking about, don’t you!”

  “Like you were something sizzling on a barbecue, that they couldn’t wait to slap down on a plate and dig into,” said Frank.

  Lulu gave Frank an over-the-shoulder look. “So tell me, what’re you going to do about it?”

  Frank waited until a guy in a black three-piece suit was clear and then flipped his cigarette out the window. Amazing, the way he’d mellowed during the past few days. He said, “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out; how to handle the situation.”

  “Rikki terrifies me. He makes Charlie Manson look like Mr. Rogers.”

  Frank smiled.

  Lulu put her arms around him, got up on her tippy-toes and kissed him in the hollow of his throat. “That little worm wants me real bad. You better believe he’ll do anything to get me, too.” She leaned away from Frank and ran her fingers through his hair as she stared deeply into his eyes. “I’m not being manipulative, Frank. You saw the way he looked at me. We both know exactly what it means.”

  Frank lit another cigarette, pulled the smoke down deep and squeezed it with his lungs.

  Lulu said, “I’d kill him myself, but he might be a bit too much for me, my first time out.” She grinned mischievously, struck by a sudden thought. “You made a mistake when you wouldn’t let me waste that Metrotown jewellery store clerk. I could’ve used the practice.”

  Frank said, “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.”

  “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

  “I do, kind of. It’s exciting, because you look like such an angel, all sweetness and light, and then you open your mouth and some of the things you say …”

  “What?” Lulu was starting to enjoy herself. The nature of Frank’s work and her knowledge of the time he’d spent in prison had coloured her expectations. The first time she’d said something and he had blushed, she’d been almost speechless with surprise.

  “I dunno.” Frank shrugged massively, the muscles under his freshly pressed yellow shirt with pink buttons causing the material to swell briefly, in the way the glassy-smooth surface of the ocean bulges when a large mammal is about to breach. Without consciously thinking about it, Frank had come to realize that body language was by far the most effective way of conveying emotion to his new girl. He shrugged again, but in a subtly different way, indicating a kind of freckle-faced, straw-in-the-hair boyish confusion. “To look at, you’re such an angel.”

  “Frank, what a nice thing to say.”

  “But when you open your mouth, Jeez, sometimes you sound like you’re on a day pass from hell.”

  Lulu giggled, held him a little tighter.

  Frank said, “You like to shock people. I could see it in your eyes, the first time you did it to me.”

  “You could, huh.”

  “But deep inside, you’re not like that at all. And you know something — you can act like a hard-ass all you want, but you’re always gonna pay a price.”

  The telephone warbled, but to Frank it sounded more like a vulture than a canary.

  Lulu said, “What price is that?”

  Frank picked up. It was Rikki, inviting them up for brunch. Frank still had a few moves left. He let the invitation hang for a moment and then said, “Okay, sure. As long as there’s lots of coffee and I ain’t expected to eat any fresh fruit.”

  Rikki said, “Tell the truth, Frank, Mr. Newton don’t expect you to do much of anything.”

  Frank waited, not saying anything, giving Rikki lots of time to take another shot at him or hang up. After a moment, the line went dead. Frank disconnected, turned to Lulu and said, “Hungry, honey?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Frank said, “Not yet, but soon.”

  They caught an elevator up to Newt’s posh tenth-floor suite. The door was ajar. Frank knocked twice.

  Lulu said, “Why don’t we just walk in, show some initiative. It isn’t as if they aren’t expecting us.”

  “It ain’t polite. In a situation like this, you gotta show some respect.” Frank knocked again, not too loudly. Adopting the stance of a pallbearer, he waited patiently for Newt to shake the wax out of his ears.

>   But it was Rikki who came to the door, a loaded fork in one hand and a steak knife in the other. Casually, he waved them inside.

  The suite was a little larger than Frank’s, but not much. There was a lean-out-the-window view of Coal Harbour. Next to the window, a quartet of wing chairs snuggled up to a table laid for four.

  Newt was wearing green suede deck shoes, baggy white cotton pants rolled halfway to his knees and held up with a shiny red belt of woven leather, a short-sleeved cotton shirt in pastel splashes of pink and blue and green. He looked as if he was going to finish breakfast and then go audition for a front-row seat at a Beach Boys concert.

  Newt waved a champagne flute at Lulu and patted the chair next to him. “Sit, baby. Grab some chow.”

  Frank took Lulu’s hand in his big paw, gave her a quick squeeze. They sat down, Newt scattering scrambled egg across the carpet as he used his fork to direct Frank into the chair on his left, leaving Lulu no choice but to sit between Newt and Rikki — the aftershave twins.

  Frank eased a serving cart out of the way. The table was crowded with silver-plated heating dishes of eggs and bacon, white toast, croissants, cute little jars of jam, a silver coffee pot, huge bowl of fruit salad and several bottles of Calona Pastel Peach Champagne.

  Newt said, “There, now. Ain’t this cosy? Rikki, serve the lady.”

  With his slick black hair and icy, glittering black eyes, the crisp white shirt, matte black suit and matching tie, black silk socks and mirror-polished size-seven black patent-leather shoes with the custom-made elevator heels and needle-sharp stainless steel toe caps, Rikki might have been the headwaiter at a razor-wired maximum security institution, or maybe the chief warden at a kennel for the terminally rabid. He said, “Sure’ting, boss,” and slapped a mountain of scrambled eggs on Lulu’s plate.

  “Bacon?”

  Lulu shook her head.

  Rikki hoisted a bottle of Pastel Peach. “Thirsty?”

  “No, not really.”

  She was fading, had gone about two shades paler than normal. Frank had to do something. He snatched at the coffee pot and filled her cup. She glared at him. He gave her a pleading look. Verbal semaphore. Please be patient.

  Newt shoved his plate out of the way, wiped his mouth with a napkin the size of a small parachute. “Where’s my grapefruit?”

  Rikki was staring at Lulu, looking her over as if she was something that was on sale, 20 per cent off but maybe still not quite worth the price. Frank had a very strong urge to snap his neck. Instead, he reached across the table and handed Newt half a juicy plump Indian River grapefruit.

  Rikki drained his flute glass, licked his lips and poured himself a refill.

  Frank emptied the rest of the bottle into his glass, sipped cautiously. Rikki was watching him. Frank wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand, put the glass back down on the table and gently pushed it away.

  Newt used his fork to stab a slice of grapefruit. He dipped the grapefruit in the sugar bowl and then popped it in his mouth, leaned way back in his chair and chewed thoughtfully, swallowed. He said, “I asked you to do a little something for me, Frank. At the time, it didn’t seem like it was gonna be a major problem.” Newt leaned across the table and playfully jabbed at Frank with the fork, the tines dimpling Frank’s cheek. “But look what’s happened — nothing. Absolutely zero.”

  “Zilch,” said Rikki, winking at Lulu.

  Grinning maniacally, Newt said, “I trusted you like a son. And you let me down, Frank. You spent thousands of my hard-earned dollars and dropped me on my ass.”

  “Ouch!” said Rikki, wriggling in his chair and making his eyebrows dance, flashing his pearly teeth.

  Frank poured himself some coffee. The pot had a valve, you had to twist a little handle. The coffee was very hot. If he threw the cup in Rikki’s face, blinding him, he could take all the time he wanted to beat Newt to a pulp.

  But that wasn’t what he wanted, not really. Newt was right; he’d been good to Frank and Frank had let him down.

  He added cream, sipped.

  Newt said, “What I require, Frank, is an explanation. Take it from the top, and try not to skip over any of the good parts. What I’m saying to you, don’t make me ask a lot of questions. I’d hate to lose my temper in front of the lady.”

  So Frank went over the whole story, more or less. He told Newt about the flat tire and the bad luck and the trip out to Metrotown and the kid trying to sell tickets on the BMW. Newt smiled a couple of times and once he even laughed out loud.

  Three cups of coffee later, Frank finally ran out of monologue, and Rikki jumped on him with both feet.

  “Yeah, man, but what you done recently?”

  Frank said, “I guess you missed my point. I’ve been trying to explain that the job doesn’t interest me anymore. The Corvette’s still in the garage, far as I know. Take it if you want it.”

  Newt said, “But I don’t understand. What d’you mean, you lost interest? What happened?”

  Frank glanced at Lulu. She was watching him, a smile in her eyes. They locked in on each other. Frank said, “I fell in love.”

  Rikki said, “Ain’t that sweet,” and stuck two fingers in his mouth and made a nasty gagging sound.

  Lulu said, “You’re a really ugly person, Rikki. And I’m not just talking about your face. I mean deep inside you, where it counts.” She turned to Newt. “You guys sleep together, is that the attraction?”

  Newt giggled, and shook his head, indicating neither denial nor confirmation.

  Rikki, staring at Frank, slowly withdrew his fingers from his mouth, wiped them dry on the lapel of his black suit.

  Newt said, “I called statement enquiries, Frank. My charge card’s been taking a beating. Unless the clerk made a mistake, you’ve spent almost five thousand bucks in the last few days and l got nothin’ to show for it. No body!”

  Frank reached inside his jacket, came up with a small blue box with a red ribbon around it. He tossed the box to Newt and said, “This ought to take care of what I owe you.”

  Newt stared suspiciously at the box, then shrugged and ripped it open. Inside was a heavy gold chain, the broad flat links smooth and lustrous, looking solid and rich. He tilted the box so the chain slid into the palm of his hand, gauged

  the weight of it, smiled and turned to Lulu. “Gimme a hand with this, willya?”

  Lulu was careful not to touch him as she draped the links across his wrist, fastened the clasp.

  “Nice, Frank. But it ain’t five grand’s worth of nice, not by a long shot.”

  Frank reached into his sagging pockets and dumped the rest of the jewellery store loot on to the table. The pile of tangled gold chains and rings was about four inches high and eight inches across. A chip diamond sparkled in the light.

  Newt said, “What’d you do, rob a jewellery store?”

  “There’s close to five pounds of gold there, most of it eighteen karat.”

  “Yeah, okay … ” Newt studied the ceiling. After a few moments he said, “What the hell, I can’t make you do what you don’t wanna do. Rikki can play bumper cars, I guess, as good as you.”

  Newt gobbled the rest of his grapefruit while Frank told Rikki where he’d parked the Corvette, and explained his reasons for using such a noisy car. Rikki listened politely, sipped at the Pastel Peach champagne, his eyes steady on the small mountain of gold.

  Newt said, “You two lovebirds stick around until we finish our business here, understood?”

  Frank nodded.

  “Don’t leave town, in other words.” Newt grinned. A fragment of pink Indian River pulp was lodged between his two front teeth.

  In the elevator, as they glided silently back down to their room, Lulu said, “We’ve got to kill them both, Frank.”

  “No, we don’t. Everything’s taken care of, and no hard feelings.”

  “If we don’t do it to them, they’re going to do it to us. You saw the look on Rikki’s face, in his eyes. He’s a killer, pure and simpl
e.”

  “Simple maybe, but not pure.”

  The elevator doors slid open. They walked slowly along the thickly carpeted corridor. The doors to the suites were mahogany, with brass numbers. Frank patted himself down, looking for his key. They came to their room. Frank slipped the key into the lock, pushed open the door. The maid had come and gone. A vase stuffed with baby’s breath and longstemmed white roses stood on the bureau.

  Lulu read the card, snatched the roses out of the vase and threw them on the floor.

  Frank said, “Rikki?”

  Lulu stomped the roses into the carpet, didn’t stop until there was nothing left but an unrecognizable pulp.

  Frank said, “Since I met you, I’ve changed, I feel different about things. Like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, being a normal human being, leading a normal kind of life. I ain’t saying I want to go somewhere and grow wheat, but maybe … ”

  “Wait a minute, back up.” A thorn had done its work. Lulu licked a drop of blood from her wounded thumb. She said, “The reason I fell for you in the first place was because you were such a wild and crazy guy. And now you want to settle down — lead a normal kind of life? Y’know what that sounds like to me, Frank? Death!”

  The phone rang. Frank picked up. Rikki asked him if Lulu liked her flowers.

  “She’s right here, you wanna say hello?”

  What Rikki wanted was to check and make sure he had Parker’s current address. Be a shame, he said, to hit the wrong woman and have to go back and do it all over again.

  “Good point,” said Frank. He gave Rikki Parker’s street and apartment number, waited the five minutes or so it took Rikki to write it all down, and then hung up and searched the phone book for the list of government-controlled liquor stores. There was a number for general enquiries. Frank dialled the number and asked the clerk at the other end if he could please give him the price of a bottle of Calona Pastel Peach Champagne. The guy put him on hold, came back on the line a minute with the good news. Frank thanked him, and hung up.