Fat-Free and Fatal (A Kate Jasper Mystery)
Page 21
Alice obeyed. Everyone obeyed.
“Okay,” said Dan, dropping his gun hand. “I’m gonna question all of you. So just wait your turn.”
“Let’s start with the men,” Zach suggested eagerly. Suddenly, I wondered if he was our killer. He was certainly close enough to psychotic to count. But hadn’t he been with Dan at the time of the murder?
“Bunch of assholes,” Zach went on. He tapped his fingers on his thigh. “You got ‘em under control now. Right? Right?” He didn’t wait for Dan to answer. “Then we’ll get to the ladies. This is gonna be really cool,” He swiveled his hips lewdly. The hair went up on the back of my neck.
“How about him?” Zach suggested, pointing at Leo. “Look at the asshole. He’s pissing in his pants. D’you think he’s the one?”
Dan took two long strides toward the table where Leo was sitting, then stopped, still a few yards away.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
Leo stood up, his arms stiff at his sides. He wasn’t swaying anymore. He was shaking.
‘You’re a drunk and a dirty old man,” Dan rumbled. “What else are you?”
Leo shook his head violently, his long dark hair dancing with the motion. Was he denying Dan’s charges or just unable to speak?
“Well?” Dan prodded.
Leo’s eyes widened, but he still didn’t answer. It was fear that kept him from speaking. I was sure now.
“Hey, I’ll take care of the asshole,” Zach offered. He grinned. “I’ll get him to talk. Right, Dan? Right?”
Dan continued to glare, not seeming to hear his friend’s offer. Zach scurried up to Leo and grabbed the front of his shirt. A button popped off and rolled onto the floor as Zach yanked Leo closer to him.
“What are you hiding, asshole?” Zach demanded. He pulled Leo upward by his shirt until Leo was on tiptoe looking into Zach’s eyes. “Tell, me or I’ll—”
“My heart!” Leo cried.
Zach let go of his shirt and Leo flopped onto the floor. He grabbed his chest, gasping, his face grimacing in pain.
“Dad?” Ken whispered. Then more shrilly, “He’s had a heart attack!” He started across the room toward his father. “Call an ambulance, he’s—”
“Stop right there,” Dan ordered.
Ken stopped and goggled through his thick glasses at Dan for a moment, then took another step toward his father. He was either very brave or very distracted. Or maybe a combination of both.
“Stop!” Dan shouted. He raised the gun to point at Ken. Ken stopped walking. But he didn’t stop talking.
“You’ve gotta do something!” he wailed. “He’s got a heart condition. He could die—”
Zach stepped forward and grabbed Ken by the shoulder. Ken’s head jerked back.
“It’s a trick,” Zach hissed. “It’s a trick, but we’re not buying it, you little weirdo.”
Ken’s face went slack with disbelief.
“What’d you do?” Zach demanded. “Make a pass at her?”
“At who?” Ken asked, his forehead wrinkling with confusion.
“Dan’s old lady!” Zach shouted. He gripped Ken’s shoulder and shook it. “You made a pass at her and she turned you down—”
“I wouldn’t make a pass at anyone,” Ken objected through clattering teeth. “I don’t even like women that much.”
Zach stared at Ken for a moment. It was his turn for disbelief. Then he jerked his hand away from Ken’s shoulder.
“Are you telling me you’re a faggot?” he demanded.
Ken shook his head. “I’m not gay,” he answered, twisting his hands together. “Women just make me uncomfortable—”
“Is that why you killed her?” asked Dan.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Ken insisted, his voice almost steady. He turned toward Dan. “Listen, we’ve got to do something about my father. He’s not faking it. He has a heart condition.” I would never think of Ken as a wimp again.
I stole a look at Leo. He was still lying on the floor. The red had drained from his face, leaving it the color of old ivory. His lips were purplish. And he was still breathing in short gasps.
“Let me take his pulse,” Iris requested. She took a step in Leo’s direction.
Dan swiveled his head toward her, his eyes uncertain.
“It’s a trick,” Zach piped up. “Don’t let the old bitch near him.”
Dan turned back to Zach.
“He looks like he really has had a heart attack,” Iris insisted, drawing herself up even taller than before. Her blue eyes were sparkling. “If he has, he should try to breathe deeply. An ambulance should be called—”
“The asshole’s faking it,” argued Zach. He pounded a fist against his own thigh. “Don’t let them fool you, Dan. You’ve got more questions to ask. Right?”
Dan nodded slowly, then reached up a hand to rub his eyes. He wasn’t looking a lot better than Leo. His skin wasn’t as pale as Leo’s, but it was pale enough. And his shoulders sagged. Even his head sagged.
“You should listen to Ms. Neville,” Paula put in, projecting her words as if in court. “If Mr. Hermann dies because of your actions, you will be legally responsible for his death. Do you understand—”
Dan whirled toward her, pointing the gun. “Just shut up,” he yelped. His eyes were as wild as his hair. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Paula’s head jerked up. Her mouth opened. Gary put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. She clamped her mouth closed with an obvious effort. Her hands formed into fists.
“Okay, you,” Dan growled, pointing his gun at Gary. “What do you know about my wife’s death?”
“Very little—” Gary began.
“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Zach cut in. “Big black professor man like you doesn’t know anything. Right? Big fuckin’ professor—”
“Let the man talk,” Dan barked.
Zach’s eyebrows rose for a moment; then he shrugged. I felt a surge of hope that warmed my cold and shaking limbs. If Dan was going to control Zach, we might just get out of this thing without any real damage. If only Leo was all right. I glanced at him again. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing deeply now. Maybe he had heard Iris’s words of advice. His color looked slightly better too.
“What do you know?” Dan prodded Gary again.
“I know very little about your wife’s death,” Gary answered carefully. “Probably much less than you. I know she was killed last Monday night. I know that the killer might or might not have been one of the members of our class. I certainly didn’t kill her myself.”
Dan nodded, apparently satisfied. But Zach wasn’t.
“Oh, yeah?” he snarled. “You were talking with her that night, weren’t you? Coming on to her. So she put you down. And you got mad. Right? Right?” I listened to the venom in his voice and wondered if we were actually hearing Zach’s motive for murder. Maybe he had made the pass at Sheila and been put down. But would he have done that in front of Dan? Then I wondered if he had really been with Dan that night.
“My husband did no such thing,” Paula declared, bringing me back to the present. Her head jutted forward as she spoke. “Ms. Snyder and my husband exchanged a few words, nothing more. Whether or not you believe in his good character, there was simply no opportunity for him to do anything more than that—”
“You like to argue, don’t you,” Zach interrupted.
Paula pulled her head back and tilted it. Was she confused by Zach’s comment? I certainly was.
“Bitches like you think you can take the place of men,” he continued, glaring. I was no longer confused. Zach was just launching into a new tirade. “Take away our jobs. Bust our balls…”
I threw a pleading look at Dan, hoping he would stop Zach again. But Dan just looked tired. His eyes were on the floor as he rubbed his temple with the gun in his hand. There ought to be a way to get that gun from him, I thought. There were nine of us and only two of them. But when I tried to think of a specific strategy, my mind just balked.
Meg looked Zach in the eye without flinching, her slender shoulders pulled back military style. She was another one I would never underestimate again.
“Were you jealous of my wife?” Dan demanded abruptly. I jerked my head in his direction, wondering if he was speaking to me. But his eyes were on Meg. I let my startled breath out slowly.
“Certainly not,” Meg replied coolly. “I had no interest in her, one way or the other. She just owned the space we were renting for our class.”
Dan stared at her for a few more heartbeats. Had he taken offense at her cool answer?
“How about this one?” Zach said, his attention focusing on Barbara. He grinned and waggled his pelvis. He probably thought he looked like Elvis. He didn’t. “Nice looker for a gook. Real pretty. Right?”
This had gone far enough, I decided. Whatever Dan’s original plan had been, sexual terrorism couldn’t have been part of it. At least I hoped not. I opened my mouth to object. But Barbara beat me to it.
“Mr. Snyder,” she murmured. “Could you please ask your friend to stop?” Her tone was gentle, almost crooning, despite its underlying tremor. “None of this is going to help you find out what happened to your wife.”
“Hey, bitch,” Zach objected. He wasn’t grinning anymore. “It’s not up to you. Right, Dan? It’s not up to her.”
“Zach,” Dan said wearily. “Why don’t you just sit down for a while?”
Zach whirled around to face him. “Waddaya mean, sit down?” he demanded shrilly. He drew his skinny body up to its full height. “We’re in this thing together, buddy. Right? That’s what you said—”
“Okay, okay,” Dan muttered. His eyes traveled down to the gun in his hand. His shoulders sagged even more. Was he just beginning to realize the mess he was in?
A flicker of movement from the darkness of the hallway drew my attention away from Dan. I held my breath. Maybe it was the police. Or even someone else, someone who could size up the situation and call for help. But as the flicker moved forward, it became a little girl. It was Topaz Snyder. I let out the breath I had been holding. It was hopeless. Topaz wasn’t going to help us out of this situation. She crept up silently behind Dan, a frown distorting her small face.
“Yeah, well just don’t tell me to sit down,” Zach told Dan.
“Fine,” Dan snapped, raising his gun.
Would he actually shoot Zach? Somehow the notion didn’t bother me as much as it should have.
“Come on, buddy,” Zach chided him. “One of these assholes is a killer. Right?”
“Right,” Dan agreed, straightening a little.
He turned his gaze on me. My mouth went dry.
Zach looked my way too, then trotted toward me. I could see his eyes clearly now. His pupils were dilated, all right. He waggled his pelvis again and I noticed the bulge in his pants. Damn. I averted my eyes quickly, but not before my hands began shaking. And sweating. I turned to Dan.
“I didn’t kill your wife,” I volunteered. My mouth was so dry it kept sticking as I formed the words. Could Dan hear it sticking? Would he take this as a sign of guilt? “I don’t know who did,” I added for good measure.
“I’ll bet you don’t know,” Zach mocked me. “You’re lying, bitch. But I know how to take care of you.” I felt rather than saw his face come closer to mine. I kept my eyes averted. But he was so close I could hear his breathing, even smell the garlic on his breath.
“No,” growled Dan. I let out a sigh of relief. He was going to keep Zach away from me. “I’ll take care of her myself,” he finished. The sigh stuck in my throat.
“Why have you been asking so many questions?” Dan demanded. He peered at me intently.
“I just—” I began.
“What’s going on, Daddy?” came Topaz’s question from behind him.
Dan jumped in place, clearly startled. Zach let out another giggle. Dan glared at him for an instant, then turned toward Topaz and swung with his gun hand in one motion.
“Don’t!” I called out too late.
Dan’s gun hand came slashing down to connect with the side of his daughter’s head.
Topaz shrieked and grabbed her temple.
I watched the back of Dan’s head as he looked down at the gun in his hand. Had he forgotten it was there? He reached out for his daughter with his other hand. Her eyes were round and staring. And there was a thin red line of blood at her temple.
“I’m sorry, honey—” he began. His words weren’t enough.
Topaz turned and ran. She disappeared down the hallway.
“Daddy hurt me!” came her wail floating back to us a minute later. Then we heard the sound of rushing footsteps.
Rose Snyder burst from the hallway, dressed in a lavender chenille robe, with quilted slippers on her feet. She pulled her wire-rimmed glasses from her pocket and put them on. She took a hard look at her son. Her eyebrows rose when she saw the gun in his hand. Then her head reared back.
“Stop it, Danny!” she shouted. “Stop it right now!”
Dan Snyder lifted the gun slowly and pointed it at his mother.
TWENTY-ONE
“DANNY!” ROSE CRIED out. She stepped backwards, her eyes widening behind her glasses.
Dan didn’t move. He kept his arm steady, his gun still pointing at his mother. I wished I would see his face, his eyes, but all I could see was the back of his head.
“Danny,” Rose repeated, this time in a near whisper. Her eyes filled with tears. “What are you doing? I don’t understand this.”
Dan lowered his arm slowly.
“I was trying to find out who killed Sheila,” he mumbled. It was hard to make out his words. His voice was thick, his words slurred. “I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean…”
He never finished his sentence. He slumped to the floor as if someone had dropped him there. His shoulders moved up and down spasmodically. Was he crying? Then I heard the clatter of his gun hitting the floor, and I didn’t care if he was crying.
I sprinted around Zach, toward Dan, toward the gun. But Zach caught on. He reached out a long arm and grabbed me by my shoulder. I spun around, throwing off his hand, and faced him. He moved closer, clenching a fist. I raised my hand and knee simultaneously and felt the satisfying impact of my knee in his groin. My upthrust fingers didn’t jab him in the throat the way they were supposed to. They just grazed his chin. But I didn’t care. He was down and squirming on the floor. I blessed my tai chi teacher as I turned back toward Dan.
I wasn’t the only one who had seen the gun hit the floor. Alice was trotting toward it, amazingly fast on her high heels. Iris was hurrying Dan’s way too. And Barbara had just broken into a run. I took a couple more steps, then gave up the competition, satisfying myself with watching as Alice took the lead. She landed on her knees next to Dan and reached down, scooping up the gun triumphantly.
Then everyone got in the act.
“I’m calling the police,” announced Paula Pierce, hunching her shoulders forward as she took a step toward the phone.
I let myself breathe. Everything was going to be all right.
“How about my dad?” demanded Ken shrilly, kneeling down next to Leo. Leo was sitting up, scowling, his skin color back to normal.
“Perhaps an ambulance too, Paula,” Iris sang out.
In the midst of the confusion, I heard the front door open behind me. I turned just in time to see Zach’s backside disappearing. No one ran after him. Good riddance, I thought.
“Paula, wait a minute,” Alice called out. She stood up, the gun in her hand pointing Paula’s way. My shoulders tightened. Maybe everything wasn’t going to be all right. “There’s no need to call the police. Zach’s split and Dan didn’t mean anything—”
Paula stopped in her tracks and turned toward Alice. Her mouth was tight, her eyes stony. “Are you threatening me, Ms. Frazi
er?” she asked calmly.
Gary darted across the room to stand in front of his wife. Alice didn’t seem to notice.
“No, of course not,” she answered Paula, but she didn’t lower the gun. “It’s just that I don’t want Dan to get in any trouble. The police are gonna give him a hard time—”
“Don’t worry about it, dear,” Iris interjected quietly. “The San Ricardo police are not monsters. So kind as human beings, many of them. They’ll handle your Dan fairly. They know he’s a grieving husband.”
Alice frowned. Then she looked down at Dan. He was still turned away. And his shoulders were still heaving. It didn’t look as if he was going to give Alice any guidance in the matter.
“A very dear friend of mine used to head the San Ricardo Police Department,” Iris went on, her words forming a soothing melody, far more soothing, I would have guessed, than the police would be once they got their hands on Dan Snyder. “Such a compassionate man he was. I’m sure the new chief is just as kind. They’ll give Dan the help he needs.”
Alice lowered the gun, then turned her head to look at Rose Snyder. Rose was sobbing, great gulping sobs that sounded as hopeless as the situation itself.
“Mrs. Snyder,” Alice prodded her gently. “Whaddaya think? Should we call the police?”
Rose stared at Alice with an expression of cartoon surprise on her face. Her eyebrows arched. Her mouth was shaped in a perfect O. But no sound came out of it.
“Mrs. Snyder,” Alice began again. “What should—”
Rose closed her mouth and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered. She pulled her chenille robe tighter around her body. “I don’t know about anything anymore.” Then she turned and headed back down the hallway, her slippers softly scuffing the floor.
“Wouldn’t you like to give me the gun, dear?” Iris asked brightly. Alice’s heart-shaped face was slack and undecipherable as she stared at Iris. Would she take Iris’s suggestion?
Do it, Alice, I ordered silently, tensing as I tried to send the mental message. Maybe Barbara wasn’t the only psychic around here. You don’t want the gun, Alice, I thought as hard as I could. Hand it to Iris. Do it. Do it now.