by Albert Simon
He drove out of the canyon and marveled at the view, perhaps it would be interesting to take that tram trip; the view from the ride up had to be a lot more spectacular than from the road. He had felt the same sort of trepidation two months ago before entering the gold mine and that had not been a problem at all. He remembered feeling quite comfortable inside the mine, of course he was focused on other things at the time, he sure hoped it would be the same way here.
Chapter 5
He pulled into his garage on Mel Avenue next to Charles’ SUV. Henry was glad that Charles was home, he wanted to ask him about Terrance’s trip to Las Vegas and possible motives for that little drive. Perhaps there was a reason that he had been so friendly with Todd. There was something going on here that Henry didn’t understand, maybe Charles could shed some light on it for him.
He found Charles outside sitting at the table under the umbrella by the pool. Pierre was at his feet, a coffee cup and the newspaper were next to him. It looked as though he was sleeping; his head was back, his sunglasses covering his eyes. Henry walked towards him quietly until Charles looked up and greeted his friend.
“Heeeey, how are you? Have you been shopping? You have less than twenty-four hours to wait. Are you nervous?”
Henry dropped himself into one of the chairs next to Charles and put his leg up on the other. Every once in a while his leg still bothered him a little; he was glad that he didn’t live in a humid climate it would probably have ached constantly. “What are you doing out here, it’s over one hundred degrees in the shade.”
“I like the heat, you know that. Remember it is easier to cool off when you are warm, than to warm up when you’re cold! Besides, the pool looks so nice, that I wanted to sit out here and enjoy it. How did they get it to sparkle like that?” Charles looked over at Henry who lowered his sunglasses to look at the pool.
“You’re right; they did do a nice job. I don’t know what that new pool guy does, but I like how he does it. I think the yard looks pretty nice, if we can get the inside to look as good, I’ll be happy.” Henry sighed, he felt as though he had a lot of work yet to do.
“Will you stop worrying, the place looks great. How many times have I told you the house is irrelevant, she’s here to see you.” Charles shook his head; he felt that his friend was stressing way too much about Gloria’s arrival. The house and garden looked great, and once she arrived, Henry would settle down and be happy.
“I know, I know, you sound like Wayne, I swear you guys are not taking this seriously. She’ll be here tomorrow and then I’ll feel better.” Henry sighed.
“That’s not what you came out here to talk to me about is it?” Charles looked at Henry; he could tell there was something else on his mind.
“No, I learned something just now while I was looking into this tramway killing and it doesn’t make sense to me. I wanted to ask you about it, but it seems kind of awkward if you know what I mean.” Henry traced the grain in the wood of the table with his finger.
“Oh for goodness sake Henry, we know each other well enough that you can ask me anything you want. What happened? There’s probably something about Terrance Quinn being gay that you don’t understand, am I right?” Charles sounded indignant.
Henry stopped tracing the grain. “Exactly, how did you know?”
“Because you’ll ask me about anything else without the hesitance that you’re showing now. I swear you’re acting like you’re fifteen years old and you’re asking me to go to the drugstore to buy condoms for you. So stop fussing and tell me what’s going on.” Charles said.
“The victim of the tramway killing, Terrance Quinn, went on a trip to Las Vegas with the young janitor that he was mentoring Todd Gregory. Given Quinn’s partner, Robert Silverstein’s, current health I was wondering if the two could have had a fling in Vegas.” Henry looked at Charles.
“Ok, but I’m not sure why you’re asking me? Was the young janitor gay?” Charles furrowed his brow.
“Todd Gregory? I don’t know that. Terrance Quinn was his supervisor and took him under his wing and helped him out a lot at the tramway and taught him about work habits. Terrance’s manager, George Margolis, thought that was unusual since Quinn never socialized with anyone that he worked with. Margolis also told me that the two went to Las Vegas. The kid’s only nineteen, I’m sure he’d get thrown out of the casinos, so they didn’t go to gamble. When you and I were at Silverstein’s yesterday, he didn’t mention that Quinn went on this little excursion. So, I thought that since Robert Silverstein was most likely incapacitated, I mean, physically, you know, romantically I mean, perhaps Quinn and Gregory had some kind of sexual encounter. Silverstein didn’t want to tell us about it since he was embarrassed that he’d been cuckolded, if there is such a thing.”
“Hmmm, so you’re thinking that even though Silverstein and Quinn were registered domestic partners, Quinn stepped out on him. Of course that leads us to a motive where Silverstein was jealous when he found out that Terrance Quinn went to Las Vegas with Todd Gregory and shot him after confronting him.”
“Well, no, I actually wouldn’t go that far. I don’t think of Silverstein as a suspect, though I agree that your scenario is not that farfetched.” Henry thought about what Charles said, jealousy certainly makes a motive for murder, but somehow, as sick as Silverstein was, he couldn’t picture him murdering his partner. If he had, why did he do it at work? Then again, he could have been angry enough at being cheated on that he might have gone over the edge. “What I want to know is if it is possible that Quinn and Gregory had a sexual liaison, affair if you will, of some kind.”
“Well, how does them being gay impact that?” Charles furrowed his brow at Henry.
“What do you mean?”
“Henry, sometimes you are so naïve. Do you think someone has to be gay in order to have an affair when they’re married and their spouse is terminally ill? I’m sure that half of the Las Vegas hotel rooms have someone in them that is not supposed to be there.” Charles smiled.
“I guess you’re right. I just went from my standpoint, certainly if Irma were still alive and ill, I wouldn’t think of being with anyone else. I guess that is why this whole thing is so inconceivable to me.”
Charles shook his head. “You’re going to tell me that you’ve never known a married couple where one of them didn’t have an affair?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m telling you. You know, Eagle River, Wisconsin is a very small town. We only have fifteen hundred people and everyone sort of knows everyone else. I don’t know anyone who has ever had an affair. Of course I know it happens, but in my experience it isn’t very common. My question really is if it is more common with a gay couple, and if it is plausible between Quinn and Gregory.” Henry took a deep breath. He started getting up and asked Charles. “I’m thirsty, do you want some water?”
Charles looked into his empty coffee cup and handed it to Henry. “Yes, please, this is empty, if you can put it in the sink, I’ll rinse it later.”
“I’ll be back in a second.”
Charles watched Henry walk through the French doors into the kitchen. Sometimes he wondered about Henry. He was very good at solving these puzzles for the police; it seemed as though he put himself inside either the victim or the killer’s head and thought the way that person thought.
At other times he was amazed at Henry’s lack of sophistication, or small town thinking. Charles had spent most of his adult life in San Francisco; Henry came from a very small town in rural Wisconsin where most of the crime was caused by outsiders, and those crimes were mostly minor. Henry had mentioned to him how his police force of six officers had to deal with the drunken snowmobilers and boaters. He had worked on the occasional murder in the days that he was the chief of police, but Henry admitted that he only investigated two during his entire time on the force. Charles smiled, in many ways Henry was similar to that cop guy on television many years ago, Sam McCloud, the sheriff from Taos, New Mexico who went to New York and f
elt totally out of his element. Except of course Henry didn’t have the drawl or the moustache. Charles shook his head, perhaps Henry wasn’t like that, but he did remind him of someone.
“Here’s your water, where were we? Henry was back and handed Charles a cold water bottle.
“I was about to tell you that gay men are dogs.” Charles said.
“What? How can you say that?” Henry was shocked at what his friend just said. Certainly Charles had never shown any dog like behavior. “What do you mean?”
Charles laughed. “Well, not all of them of course. But certainly there are a lot of gay men who lead promiscuous lives and even though they are in a long term relationship will have numerous affairs. Many guys will have sex with someone first and then develop a friendship and relationship later. That’s very common, not that I condone it, but Terrance Quinn certainly could have had an affair with his young employee.”
“Dogs, eh? That certainly puts a unique label and a strange mental image on that sort of behavior. I suppose it does save a lot of money on dinners and the old fashioned way of dating.” Henry shook his head.
“You know Henry, if I could actually offer you a suggestion with your investigation. You should look at how this murder was committed before you look at whom.” Charles took a long drink of the water, it was almost too cold.
“You mean figure out how the heck a murder without a murder weapon or any kind of obvious way of committing this could have happened? I’ve thought about that, but I figured that Wayne and his team of detectives were already figuring that out. I was going about this in my usual way of trying to think the way the victim thought to see who would want to kill me. Him, I mean.” Henry put his water on the table and wondered if Charles was right. “Besides, in order to figure out how, I need to take a ride on the tramway. Between you and me, I’m not looking forward to going up in that tram car.”
Charles burst out laughing. “Henry, you were a cop. You’ve been shot at, seen people get hurt and killed in car accidents, you’ve been through some horrific things, and have come out of some very tight spots in one piece, you can’t be worried about that tram ride?”
“Hey, it doesn’t help if you laugh about it. I guess you’re right. It’s more apprehension about doing something I haven’t done before than anything else. Two months ago I thought I was going to be claustrophobic inside that gold mine and I was fine.”
“There you go. Why don’t you take Gloria by the hand on Monday and take a ride up. You two are holding hands aren’t you? If not, here’s the perfect chance.”
“You can stop ridiculing me now.” Henry said with mock anger. “Speaking of Gloria, I’d better get over to Jensen’s and get my shopping done. I’ll grab some lunch while I’m out. Do you need anything?”
“I apologize. You know I’m not making fun of you, just having some fun with you. Anything I need is on the list. Do you want any grocery money?” Charles stretched out; he showed no signs of getting up, though Pierre opened one eye to make sure that they weren’t going anywhere.
“No, I’m good. I’m not really mad you know, I’m not sure what my apprehension about this tramway thing is, I know it’s perfectly safe.” Henry waved at Charles as he walked across the lawn and into the doors that led directly into his bedroom.
“Well, usually anyway.” Charles muttered under his breath. He wondered why Henry had not heard about the incident with the broken cable on the tramway last year that left a car load of tourists stranded for four-and-a-half hours in mid-air.
Henry came back from the store and after putting away all the groceries and putting his fresh flowers in a vase on the dining table; he went into the office that adjoined his bedroom. He called Wayne Johnson at the police department; something had been bothering him since his conversation with Charles earlier. Wayne wasn’t at his desk; Henry decided to call his cell phone number.
“Wayne Johnson.” He answered.
“Wayne, it’s Henry, can you talk?”
“Henry, how are you? I’m on my way home, I can talk to you now, or I can call you back when I get home in about twenty minutes.”
“This won’t take long; I just have a couple of quick questions.”
“Ok, fire away.”
“Interesting choice of words Wayne, that is what I want to ask you about. Are you any closer to locating the gun that killed Terrance?”
“Henry, there have to be literally millions of .38 specials out there, we’ve been all over the place looking for that weapon, but everything is coming up blank. The lab crew went through all of the garbage bags that were in the tram with a fine tooth comb - nothing.”
“Have you been to the gun shops in the Coachella Valley?” Henry asked.
“There is only one gun store in Palm Springs, three more in the entire Valley, none of them sold any .38’s in the past six months. No luck with any of the pawn shops either. Apparently these weapons are not as popular as they once were.” Wayne had some frustration in his voice.
“Did you show any of them a picture of Terrance Quinn?” Henry asked.
“Quinn? No, we didn’t show them a picture of Quinn; we did go in with a glossy of Quinn’s partner Robert Silverstein and Todd Gregory though. None of them recognized either one of them.” Wayne sounded thoughtful. “Do you think Quinn bought the weapon and committed suicide? You know the crime scene guys that were there that night eliminated suicide right away. The shot was from too far away and there was no powder on the victim.”
“Well, it crossed my mind. But I figured there’d be no way for him to shoot himself and then get rid of the gun with a bullet in his head. Besides, where was he going to ditch the weapon inside that tram car? I was trying to rule out that Terrance bought the weapon maybe for protection or whatever and was shot with it by Robert Silverstein.” Henry wanted to rule out Charles’ theory, he didn’t think it had much credibility, but he did want Wayne to eliminate the possibility.
“I just don’t think that Silverstein killed Quinn, Henry. What could his motive be?” Wayne asked.
“Jealousy.” Henry replied.
“Jealousy? Henry, you’ve been dipping into the classics. That certainly is a powerful motive but do you really think it works in this case, who would Silverstein have been jealous of?” Wayne wondered.
“Todd Gregory.”
“Todd Gregory? Are you saying Quinn and Gregory had something going? Is Gregory gay?”
“I don’t know that, but did you know that Quinn and Gregory went to Las Vegas together?” Henry asked.
“No, I missed that. Where did you hear that?” Wayne asked.
“George Margolis told me.” Henry said.
“I don’t know how you’re getting these people to tell you this stuff when I can’t get it out of them when I interview them.”
“I don’t know Wayne, all I do is let them talk and listen to them. It’s amazing what folks will tell you if you just listen.”
“I guess. Maybe I’ll try that the next time I interview a suspect.” Wayne said.
“You have to do whatever works for you. Have you located Todd Gregory yet?” Henry asked.
“Not yet. We went to his mother’s house, his parents divorced years ago, he lives with her over on Verona Road. The mother is a blackjack dealer at one of the Indian casinos, he grew up as a latchkey kid, she said he was a quiet boy growing up. She said he always had a job, he always made money, was never a burden on her. He got the job at the tramway while still at Palm Springs High and then went full time there after graduation.”
“How about friends, hobbies, stuff like that?” Henry asked.
“We talked with her about his friends, he doesn’t have many. The one kid we talked with said he hasn’t seen him in quite a while, he’s not staying with him.” Wayne answered.
“How about his hobbies?” Henry asked.
“We didn’t talk to the mom about his hobbies. He’s a teenager; my guess would be music and movies. That’s what all of them are into these days.”
“Wayne, are you getting sloppy?” Henry gently rebuked his old friend.
“No, I don’t think so, but thanks for your concern. You know something just tells me that Todd Gregory didn’t do it. You didn’t see him that evening that I went up to the tramway when he found Quinn’s body. That young man was very distraught. If he did it, the performance that he put on that night is worthy of an Oscar.”
“Alright, I tend to agree with you that he didn’t do it. We still need to find him though; I think he can tell us a lot. What kind of car does he drive?” Henry asked.
“Hang on, I need to take this turnoff and pull my notes out of my pocket.” Wayne said.
“Take your time; you can call me back when you get home.” Henry cautioned.
“No, its ok, I got it. He drives a 1983 Jeep Wrangler, black, with a convertible top and a light bar. We’ve been looking for it all over town; do you want the license number?”
“Sure, I doubt that I’ll spot it if your officers haven’t, but I might as well write it down.” Henry answered.
“Ok, here it is, California plate 1 Bravo, Uniform, Foxtrot 486.” Wayne read.
“Got it, that’s easy to remember, my first computer was a 486.” Henry said.
“Your first computer was a number?” Wayne asked.
