Crime and Retribution

by Nic Saint

  “So… Mariana Piney… was a guy?” asked Calvin, surprised.

  “Transgender,” Angela explained. “He was in the process of becoming a woman.”

  “Enough,” a voice suddenly echoed through the room.

  I wasn’t surprised to see Detective Munroe stride towards us, his face a thunderstorm. He didn’t seem happy to see us.

  “What did I tell you about not interfering with my investigation?”

  “Oh, hi, Detective,” said Calvin in his most amiable tone. “So nice to see you again.”

  “Out,” said the detective. He then directed a look that could kill at Angela. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Oh, relax already, will you?” asked Angela. “The Diffleys are okay. Just ask Chief Whitehouse. They’re cleared and have been cleared for as long as I’ve been a coroner here, which is longer than I feel confident sharing with you,” she added with a slight smile at Calvin.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” said Detective Munroe. “I will speak to the chief about this.”

  “There was never any problem when Virgil was in charge,” said Calvin.

  This seemed to have the effect of a red rag on a bull, for the cop’s nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened. “Virgil Scattering is not in charge. I am. And I’m asking you, once again, to butt out of my investigation. So please leave now, before I arrest you myself. Both of you!”

  “Of course,” said Calvin sweetly. “Not a problem, Detective.”

  “Bye, Angela,” I said, tripping after my brother.

  “Bye, now,” said Angela, shaking her head.

  “What did you tell them?” I heard Munroe ask the doctor.

  “Nothing! I hadn’t even started on my autopsy yet!”

  “Good. You’re not to share any information with them. Nothing.”

  I followed Calvin out of the building. “That is one angry cop.”

  “I’ll handle him,” Calvin assured me once again.

  “Oh, like you handled him just now?”

  “We have a great working relationship with Chief Whitehouse. Our family donates generously to the police pension fund and we never miss an occasion to socialize at the police charity ball, where, once again, we donate generously.”

  “I didn’t know about that.”

  “We donate to a lot of different causes. Helps to grease the wheels.”

  I glanced back at the squat concrete building we’d just left. “Well, that’s one squeaky wheel that’s gonna need a lot of greasing.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Calvin repeated, though he sounded a little less sure of himself already. I had the impression Detective Munroe was the kind of cop who liked to do things his own way, police brass be damned. Even if this Chief Whitehouse told him to cooperate with my family, he just might be inclined to refuse. And where would that leave us? Exactly nowhere.

  “What happens if Karma Corps is actively opposed by the authorities?”

  He smiled. “We have ways of remedying that.”

  “So why don’t you remedy Detective Munroe?”

  He stared at me. “Look, I don’t want to have to remove Detective Munroe from active duty, but if I must, I will. But in doing so—”

  “We create karma. Gotcha.”

  “It’s a balancing act, sis. And not always an easy one.”

  I was starting to see that. Karma Corps needed diplomats, not soldiers. I wasn’t sure I had the patience to appease the likes of Detective Munroe. If I had any say in the matter, I’d simply kick his butt to the curb and get on with it. Then again, Calvin had been at this a lot longer than I had, so he was probably right.

  I got into the car, Calvin plugged the key into the ignition, and then hesitated. “So… where to now?” he asked.

  I slowly turned to him. “Is that a trick question?”

  “No, it’s not. It’s just that…” He frowned. “Mariana was actually Mariano, so what does that tell us?”

  “What does it tell you?” I asked carefully, wondering if he was having a laugh at my expense.

  “I don’t know.” I was still staring at him, so he finally clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Look, I’m not great with this part of the business, all right? Lucien is much better at figuring out what to do next. When I team up with him I just follow his lead.”

  “Because he follows his intuition,” I said knowingly.

  “I guess,” he admitted grudgingly.

  “And now you want me to follow my intuition.”

  “I don’t care what you call it, just do it,” he said.

  Now it was my turn to smile. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We all have our strengths and weaknesses. You’re very good at rationally sorting through a bunch of clues, but first you have to find those clues, and that’s where us right-brained folks come in. We follow our gut.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine. So what does your ‘gut’ tell you?”

  I thought for a moment, then nodded. “Let’s go to TransCent. In a small town like Happy Bays, I’m sure they’ll be familiar with Mariana.”

  “TransCent?”

  “Short for Transgender Center. It’s a nonprofit that helps transgenders with practical advice and support. They have a great team of psychologists and host regular information sessions.”

  “So how do you know about them?”

  I hesitated. “Promise me you won’t tell the others.”

  He looked bemused. “Sure. What is it?”

  “I went there with Lucien last month.”

  “You went there with Lucien? You knew about his craziness?”

  “It’s not craziness. He’s serious. And he wanted a person he could trust to be there with him for his first interview, so he asked me.”

  Calvin had jutted out his jaw and was looking mutinous. “He could have come to me. I’m his brother. He can trust me.”

  I shrugged. “He knew you’d simply bombard him with a bunch of reasons not to go through with it, just like you did this morning.”

  He threw up his hands. “I didn’t bombard him! I just don’t want him to get hurt by injecting himself with a bunch of stuff he bought online. Who knows what they put in those vials!”

  “He bought everything from a clinic recommended by the center,” I assured him.

  “Oh, and that’s supposed to make me feel better?” He twisted the key in the ignition. “This is just crazy.” The engine roared to life and he peeled from the parking lot with tires squealing.

  “And this is exactly why he didn’t tell you,” I said, also heating up. “Because he knew you wouldn’t understand, and make a big thing out of it.”

  “It is a big thing! My brother is turning into my… sister!”

  He glanced over and we locked eyes. I couldn’t resist. I had to laugh at the expression of sheer confusion on his face. And then he laughed, too.

  “Great!” he cried. “As if one sister wasn’t enough, now I’ll have two!”

  “Hey! Be grateful. We’re evening the score here. You’re still in the majority.”

  “Unless Rodrick gets it into his nut to transition too,” he grumbled.

  “I doubt it. With his nipple obsession? No way.”

  He laughed again, and the tension was broken. My brothers and I might be prone to fighting, but luckily it never lasts very long. I guess that’s one other advantage of being karma workers: we never allow karma to build up before letting it dissipate again. Or something like that.

  Chapter 6

  TransCent was located in a nondescript office building in the small industrial zone just outside of Happy Bays. All the buildings here looked the same: prefabricated boxy structures of corrugated metal. The building TransCent was located in was red and white, and stood out in a sea of gray metal. It lent the structure a whimsical touch. Big potted plants had been placed out in front to add some green.

  Calvin eyed the office a little skeptically. “Are you sure this is where we’re going to find our answers?”

  “That’s the disadvantage of fol
lowing your gut,” I said cheerfully. “You’re never sure.”

  I entered through the front door, Calvin on my heel, and we found ourselves in a roomy foyer, sunlight streaming in through a skylight. Against the wall, a large mural had been painted, depicting the nativity scene, only the three Wise Men were three Wise Women, Jesus was a little girl, and even Joseph had been turned into a woman.

  “Huh.” Calvin stared up at the mural. “Where are all the men?”

  “Good question,” I said as I glanced at a plaque that indicated all the organizations housed in this building. I had the distinct impression most, if not all of them, were of the feminist persuasion. Hidden at the bottom of the list I found TransCent. I pointed at the sign. “At least we’re in the right place.”

  Calvin stared at the women at the front desk, who were eyeing us curiously. Next to the desk, a formidable female guard stood sentinel. She, too, regarded us with marked curiosity. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “They won’t bite.”

  We approached the desk, and were given a badge and entered into the visitor’s register. We were asked to take a seat in the small lounge, weathering the silent scrutiny of the armed guard, and after five minutes, a smartly dressed woman came to pick us up and lead us through a maze of corridors to the offices of the Transgender Center.

  “Hi,” she said with a bright smile, shaking our hands. “Amy White.”

  “Do you always place a guard in the foyer, Miss White?” Calvin asked.

  “We do now,” said Amy. She had a warm smile and almond-shaped eyes that gave her a hint of the exotic. She also had very broad shoulders, which gave her a masculine look. And then it hit me. She was transgender, too.

  “And why is that?” asked Calvin.

  “There have been a few incidents the last couple of weeks,” said the woman, walking briskly along the hallway, her steps muffled by the industrial carpeting.

  “Incidents?”

  “Protesters trying to gain access to our office—wanting to smash up the lobby—threatening our personnel.” She gave us a sad smile. “A lot of people take issue with the transgender revolution.”

  “That’s too bad,” I said, though I couldn’t imagine how anyone would take issue with something as innocuous as gender. To me it was pretty much a non-issue. “I mean, too bad that people can’t just mind their own business.”

  “Well, for a lot of people it is their business—or at least they seem to think so. Here we are.” We’d arrived at the end of the corridor and stepped through double glass doors and into another airy and brightly lit foyer, a little smaller this time. She took us past an office floor, where a dozen people were busy answering phones and pecking away at their computers, and into a conference room. “So who did you say you were, exactly?” she asked, once we’d all taken a seat.

  Calvin slid his card across the table. “Diffley & Sons. Insurance brokers. We represent Mariana Piney, who took out a premium whole life policy with our firm. Mrs. Piney sadly passed away last night, and we’re conducting an inquiry into her death, which has been deemed suspicious.”

  Amy’s face betrayed her shock and surprise at this news. “Mariana died?”

  “I’m afraid she did,” said Calvin, putting on his best insurance broker’s face. “In fact she was murdered.”

  “Murdered!”

  “It’s a sad day for all of us at Diffley & Sons. Miss Piney was a treasured client.”

  I gave Calvin a kick in the shin and he winced. He was overdoing it. Then again, maybe this was the spiel I had to develop as well? “What can you tell us about Mariana, Amy? I take it you knew her personally?”

  Amy nodded, struggling to regain her composure. “Yes, I did. She was…” She pressed a Kleenex to her nose. “She was an angel.”

  “In what capacity did you know Miss Piney?” Calvin asked.

  “I met her two years ago. She wanted to know about the transition process. Said she didn’t feel good in her skin and was looking for a way to become who she felt she truly was.”

  “A woman,” I said.

  Amy nodded, her eyes now slightly red. “That’s right. Oh, this is going to hit Marelda so hard.”

  “Marelda?”

  “Marelda Morato. She is—or was—Mariana’s best friend. They transitioned together, you see, and supported each other throughout.”

  “Do you have an address for Marelda?” Calvin asked.

  Amy nodded. “She lives just around the corner from Mariana. Those two were never apart. She’ll be absolutely devastated. Though I heard they did have a falling-out recently. Nothing serious, I’m sure.”

  “A falling-out?” I asked.

  “I have no idea what it was about, but they were both at a party a couple of days ago and apparently had some kind of fight in the powder room. It even came to blows. Well, not blows, exactly,” she amended when she caught my frown. “Marelda hit Mariana in the thigh with her purse, and Mariana hit back by throwing a compact powder puff at her.”

  “Ouch. That must have hurt,” said Calvin sardonically. I kicked his shin again and he winced. That hurt.

  “So can you think of anyone else who might have wished Mariana harm?” I asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, please don’t think Marelda would cause Mariana any harm. They might have had a fight but they were like sisters.”

  “So no enemies you can think of?”

  Amy shook her head, fresh tears appearing in her eyes. “Like I said. Mariana was an angel.”

  “Except when she was throwing powder puffs,” Calvin muttered.

  “Mariana even organized fundraisers for TransCent. Collected hundreds of thousands of dollars. Said she wanted to give back to the community that had taken her in so graciously. I’m telling you, she meant the world to a lot of people.”

  “Is it safe to say she was a prominent figure in the Happy Bays transgender community?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes, she was. And she came out of nowhere, too. Simply burst onto the scene all of a sudden. She came to all the meetings—attended all the rallies—and even accepted patronage of several organizations. This is going to hit us all hard.”

  “But she must have had enemies,” I said. “What about those people threatening to destroy the lobby?”

  Amy waved a hand. “Those are just a bunch of religious fanatics. They feel threatened in their values and lash out against the idea of transgenderism in general, not one particular person.”

  I leaned forward. “Are you transgender, Amy?”

  She smiled. “What gave me away?”

  “Nothing,” I hastened to say. “You look perfectly… feminine.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I haven’t fully transitioned yet. Hesitating about taking the next big step.” She sighed. “I’m going to miss Mariana. She was always so supportive. Without her, I can’t imagine I would have gotten this far.”

  When we walked out of the building and headed back to the car, Calvin asked, “What did she mean with the next big step?”

  “Surgery,” I said. “The final step is having the penis removed.”

  Calvin winced and surreptitiously allowed his hand to move to his nether regions in a protective gesture. “Removed? You mean… they… chop it off?”

  “Well, they chop off certain parts, while they turn other parts… into other parts.” I didn’t exactly feel comfortable discussing this kind of stuff with my brother.

  “Parts into other parts?” he asked with a frown. Then enlightenment struck. “Oh.” Then he grimaced. “Oh!”

  “Yes.”

  “Christ.”

  “I don’t think Jesus has a lot to do with it, to be honest.”

  “No, I mean, I can’t imagine…” He swallowed convulsively. “Christ.”

  “You said that already. It’s just a procedure, Calvin, though a pretty complicated one. It’s not as easy to create a woman as you might think.”

  He shivered. “I dare say it isn’t.”
<
br />   “Especially given what the surgeon has to work with.”

  He gave me a glare. “He’s got plenty to work with. All he has to do is turn a peg into a—”

  “Don’t you say it,” I warned him.

  “—hole.”

  “Ugh. You’re so rude!”

  “Just saying it like it is.” We got into the car. “So Mariana Piney was something of a saint, huh?”

  “Looks like,” I said, clipping my seatbelt into place. “But saint or not, somebody didn’t like her.”

  “I’ll bet it’s those religious fanatics Amy was talking about.”

  “Or Marelda, the best friend she had a fight with.”

  He hesitated before putting the key into the ignition. “Wasn’t there a movie about two nerds creating the perfect woman?”

  “Weird Science. I really don’t think this is the same thing, Calvin.”

  “I liked that movie. Kelly Le Brock, huh?”

  “Please don’t mention it to Marelda. I don’t think transgenders will appreciate the comparison.”

  “Why not? Kelly Le Brock was pretty hot in that movie. I remember.”

  I only had an eye roll for him. Men. So typical.

  Chapter 7

  Instead of driving over to Marelda Morato’s place, we decided to head into the office. We couldn’t very well show up on Miss Morato’s doorstep, however much we wanted to. We weren’t the cops, after all, and couldn’t just barge in on the woman unannounced. Calvin had called the office, and Lucien had agreed to set up an appointment with our first real lead. In the meantime, we needed to call a meeting, and discuss what we were going to do about Detective Munroe.

  The offices of Diffley & Sons are conveniently located right down the street from the police station, which isn’t as much of a coincidence as might be supposed. The police and Karma Corps often pursue the same line of investigation, only their purpose is to deliver the evildoers to the justice system and our purpose is to balance the wrongs the bad guys have wrought. Sometimes our paths collide, but just as often they don’t. Not all murderers are brought to justice, but in the end, they all receive their punishment, thanks to agents like us.