Etched in Tears

by Cheryl Hollon

  “Hi, Frank.”

  “Hey, Vanna. You’re right on time.” He stood back and held the door while he propped it open with a small red brick. “I don’t think you’ve been in my shop, though not from lack of invitations. Let me show you where the kiln is.” He led her through an open classroom into a small room that had three large kilns crammed side by side with barely a handbreadth between them. Frank opened the lid on the rightmost kiln. The other two kilns were already programmed and firing. “You can use this one, but only tonight.”

  “Thanks, I really appreciate this.” She looked at the compact kiln room and then out to the classroom. “Can I use one of the student worktables to stage the load?”

  “Sure, sure.” He checked his watch. “Just don’t take too long. I have an appointment with the mayor.”

  “No problem. We won’t be long. Your kiln is the same as mine.”

  She went back to the Mini and told Jacob he could use one of the worktables if he needed it, but he shook his head in the negative. He stationed Suzy inside by the front door with a firm “stay” command and proceeded to unload the car straight into the kiln.

  Savannah watched him load the kiln, using every available millimeter, and then looked at Frank whose faced showed his utter amazement. “Yeah, I don’t know how he does it,” she said. “Even after I’ve seen what he does, I can’t do it.”

  When the last piece was loaded, Savannah programmed the kiln and started the fusing cycle. Jacob walked over to Suzy, picked her up, and kissed the top of her head. He looked straight at Frank. “Thank you for letting us use your kiln.”

  Savannah smiled. Jacob at his customer-relations best.

  * * *

  She dropped Jacob and Suzy off at home and made her way back to the historical Old Northeast neighborhood, an exclusive section of town, to interview Harriet with Officer Williams. After enduring a cloying welcome by the owner, accepting a glass of iced tea, and getting settled at a poolside table under an umbrella, the owner left to summon Harriet.

  Savannah turned to Joy. “Why am I here?”

  “I think you know her. She grew up here and graduated from St. Petersburg High School.”

  “I didn’t recognize her when I met her at the reception or even when I bumped into her at my financial advisor’s office. But even back then, I wasn’t exactly in the cool group.”

  Joy leaned over close and whispered, “I need to find out why she didn’t file a missing person report.”

  “Why are you here?” Harriet stood in front of them with her arms folded over her chest and a scowl aging her face a decade. She was fully primped and wearing white capri slacks with a watercolor printed gauzy top and bright red wedge heels. “I’m busy. My realtor is arriving shortly and he has a series of appointments that were difficult to set up. I’m not missing them.”

  Joy stood and extended a hand to Harriet. “I’m Officer Williams. We met on Monday, and you may know Savannah Webb. She was a classmate of yours while you attended St. Petersburg High School. I have a few questions relating to the death of your husband.”

  Savannah also stood. “Hi, Harriet. I spoke to you earlier at Kevin Burkart’s office. I also ran into you at your husband’s opening reception. Nice to see you again.”

  Harriet shook hands with them both, then pursed her lips and looked at her watch. “I can give you exactly seven minutes and then I’m leaving. I’m buying a condo as an investment.”

  Savannah raised her eyebrows at Harriet’s abruptness.

  “I would appreciate your full cooperation, Mrs. Lansing,” said Joy. “This is a murder investigation and you are a key resource for information about your husband. Although this may take a little more than seven minutes, I think you can agree that the seriousness of this matter deserves your full attention.” Joy waved her hand at a chair.

  Harriet hesitated, then plopped down after noisily pulling the chair a bit away from the table. She deliberately checked the display on her cell phone, then placed it on the table, screen side up.

  Joy and Savannah sat back down and Joy pulled out her notebook. “I need to follow up on some details about the morning of Dennis’s death.”

  Harriet huffed. “I already told everything I know to you and that Detective Parker of yours on Monday. Don’t you share your information? This is wasting my time.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but it’s part of our investigation process. I would really appreciate it if we could cover the main details again.”

  Harriet glanced at her phone screen, then nodded yes.

  “First, can you tell me where you were during the hours of four and seven a.m. on this past Monday?”

  “I was asleep right here in our bedroom. I felt exhausted after that tedious exhibit opening and could feel a headache coming. There were so many people to talk with in order to keep Dennis front and center as a ‘fresh new talent.’” She fingered air quotes with a sad smile. “He was a special darling with the event manager. He had that effect on most of his sponsors. I was irritated with the way she fawned all over him. Anyway, I gave her assistant the excuse that I had a migraine and then left Dennis at the museum. I walked up Beach Drive and let myself in.”

  “The museum is quite a distance from here. Were you feeling well enough to walk?” said Savannah.

  “Walking usually fends off my migraines, which it did in this case. I arrived after about thirty minutes and didn’t go out after that.”

  Savannah continued questioning. “What time did you start to walk home?”

  “Oh, it must have been sometime after eleven-thirty. As I said, the last person I spoke to was the museum director’s assistant to thank her for the reception. It was particularly well organized.”

  “Did you meet anyone on your walk?”

  “Not anyone I knew. It was quiet, but even for a Sunday night, there were enough people out and about to make the walk safe. I think there was a soccer game letting out. There were a lot of noisy people along that stretch close to the museum.”

  “When did you notice that Dennis hadn’t returned?”

  “I didn’t notice at all. I had taken a strong sleeping pill after my walk. I didn’t wake up until you and your Detective Parker arrived to tell me about finding Dennis’s body on the green bench sculpture. I was still woozy from the after effects when I talked to him.”

  “Did Dennis have a will?” asked Officer Williams.

  “Him? Planning for a future? Don’t make me laugh.” Harriet looked at her small watch again. “He lived only for his ‘art.’” She finger quoted again with the same sour look. “He was literally spending me out of my income allowance. I have credit card bills that are all at their limits. He was obsessed with making a big splash and it’s not cheap nor is it easy. I spent a lot of time and effort making sure he was accepted into the best fairs and festivals. He used all of his money as well.” Harriet’s phone beeped. “Excuse me, but that’s my realtor. I’ve got to go.” She stood quickly and stepped away but returned to look down at them both. “Do you know when they’re going to release Dennis’s body? I want to dump him in the bay on Saturday.”

  Chapter 19

  Thursday morning

  Savannah struggled through the fourth day of the workshop. Everyone, including the Rosenberg twins, had managed to create artwork that would be used in Friday’s final class. The capstone project was to create etched pendants with small designs sandblasted in the glass. All of them had learned techniques that would be incorporated into the pendants.

  It again caught the students by surprise that the real skill in etching was not the actual sand etching. The real skill was paying attention to the quality and precision of the artwork. It was a difficult lesson not made easier with Edith Maloney constantly reminding everyone of the extreme urgency of her next appointment.

  Savannah simply couldn’t understand the logic behind scheduling two appointments so close together. Edith was stressed to distraction during the workshop. It was a problem that coul
d have easily been avoided. On the other hand, if you were constantly on the go, maybe you didn’t have to face your real problems.

  Is that what I’m doing? Avoiding facing commitment to Edward? Probably. He deserves more attention from me. Just because my last boyfriend was an absolute disaster, Edward shouldn’t suffer for it.

  After they left, Savannah walked over to her office and signed into her e-mail server to start the administrative part of her day. She filed, replied, archived, and deleted her routine e-mails. Then she opened a newsletter from the Dali Museum.

  It was an announcement that the Dali Museum would be sponsoring a candlelight memorial ceremony on Friday evening to celebrate the life of glass artist Dennis Lansing. She felt a small knot in her chest grow into sadness. It had been a short life and she had been only a tiny part of his time on earth. Had he known from the first that they were wrong for each other? Could his rejection be the root cause of her commitment issues?

  She pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and blew her nose. She wadded it up, then threw the tissue in the wastebasket and read the rest of the announcement. Participants were to wear white clothing and candles would be supplied by the sponsors of the memorial. Savannah could hear Gina’s voice in the parking information, location of the museum, and the time of the ceremony.

  She would be going. She pulled another tissue from the box, folded it into a small square, and stuffed it into her pocket. I didn’t expect to be so sad.

  Savannah shut down her computer, then walked into the conference room. There was Jacob still fiddling with the Enigma machine and trying new rotary combinations. She was about to say hello when he put his pencil down, grabbed Suzy, stood up, and hopped a little jig.

  “Jacob! What is it?”

  He froze in midhop. A rusty flush spread from his throat over his cheeks and he didn’t seem to know where to look.

  “Jacob, I didn’t mean to startle you, but have you found the key machine setting?”

  A broad smile lit his face. “Yes!”

  “How?” Savannah looked at the conference room table, which was covered with sheets of paper with coded numbers. “There must be a hundred sheets of paper here. How many combinations did you try?”

  “Using the three rotary dials, there were an impossible number of combinations that could have been the solution to the cipher. But one of my assumptions was that the eight-digit labels included the year and underneath that would have been a last name.”

  Savannah sat down at one of the chairs. “You mean either 2004 or 2005”

  “Yes, that means that there had to be a common solution of 200 in the answers. So, I was looking for a setting that would produce not only the 200, but also Lansing. That reduced the number of trials. The machine is now set up, so let’s type Lansing into the machine and that will give you the code for the name on the label.”

  Jacob sat down at the Enigma machine and firmly pressed the typewriter keys to spell out LANSING. He wrote the name on a piece of paper and each coded letter directly below each letter in the name, then gently tore the sheet from the pad and handed it to Savannah. “That’s the label to look for.”

  “Fantastic work!” Savannah clapped her hands and started to hug Jacob. She quickly dropped her hands onto the surface of the table. “You are awesome. I’m curious. What is the setting for the three rotary dials?”

  Jacob pointed to the digits he used for the dials. He had written 7 1 9 = G A I.

  “Seven one nine equals G A I? It’s a simple substitution.”

  Jacob spoke quickly. “Yes, I should have guessed that earlier. He used your birthday. July 19th.”

  “But my birthday would be six or even eight digits.”

  “Not if you used only the month and the day. Seven one nine for July 19 and then he used the numbers to generate the letters. So, the rotaries were set to G, A, and I.”

  “Not the kind of obvious guess that would have led me to solve the cipher. I’ll get Amanda to check the file cabinet.”

  She dialed Webb’s Glass Shop and told Amanda to search for the label that matched the code and said she would hang on the line.

  After a long five minutes, Amanda came back on the line. “I found it! It was down in the third drawer.” Amanda sneezed right into the handset. “Oh, excuse me. Those files are dusty.”

  “Can you bring it over? I think we need a quick meeting so we can look through the file and determine what our next steps should be. Don’t you dare peek inside. I want us all to examine it together. Oh, could you also call Edward?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. I’ll do that.”

  “Is something wrong between you two?”

  “We’re fine. Just a few little . . . don’t worry. I’ll text him. See you in a bit.”

  Savannah ended the call, then punched in a text to Edward. Jacob has solved code and Amanda has the file. Meet at the studio ASAP?

  In an instant, he replied, Yes.

  Savannah frowned. Edward was usually chatty with his texts. Rats! He’s still annoyed. He has a right to be annoyed with me. I need to fix that. She looked up at Jacob. “I’m going to make us all some coffee and get you a root beer. The others will be here in a few minutes.”

  When she returned to the conference room, Jacob had tidied all the papers into one neat stack and had a blank sheet of paper next to the Enigma machine. Setting the cups in everyone’s usual place, Savannah felt excited about what they might find in the file.

  Amanda bustled through the door followed by Edward, who carried a file that was at least an inch thick. He plopped the file in the center of the conference room table, which caused a puff of dust to rise.

  “Oh yuk, Edward,” said Amanda. “What a dusty mess. Now I’m going to—” She sneezed so loud that Suzy whimpered.

  Jacob quickly scooped her into his lap.

  “Sorry,” said Edward and he sat in his usual seat. He smiled at Jacob. “Well done, Jacob.” He offered a high five and Jacob complied with a small grin.

  Savannah looked at Edward and mouthed sorry before she sat down. He returned her look with a small smile, but didn’t say anything.

  “I’ll get this cleaned off before we torment Amanda further. Jacob, you can move the machine into your workroom. That will clear things off for us to look at the file and I need that space for my class tomorrow.” He moved everything while Savannah took the file over to the rinsing sink, wiped the front and back of the file with a slightly damp paper towel, then ran the towel along all the exposed edges. When she placed it back on the table, she said, “I’m going to glance at each paper and then pass it around. Hopefully, this is full of good information.”

  She opened the file and held up the first sheet. It was coded. “Jacob, this one is yours. I’ll bet it’s a summary of the rest of the file, but you’ll have to translate it for us.”

  Next were several stapled bundles of applications for jobs—again with the applicant’s name and address encoded. “It looks like Dennis applied for quite a few jobs.” She passed them to Amanda. Then there were various employment records that documented the terminations from companies whose names had been blacked out. The next set of discipline reports was from various teachers at St. Petersburg High School followed by at least twenty photocopies of newspaper clippings relating to gang violence and purse-snatching incidents.

  There was a letter from the social services manager, who handled all the referrals. It described an action plan that was agreed to by the manager, John Webb, and the applicant’s name in code, which by now Savannah recognized.

  The last thing in the file was a copy of an arrest record with all the names redacted in bold black marks. The charge was petty larceny and underage drinking. She passed that one over to Amanda, who passed it to Jacob, who passed it to Edward.

  “This is what probably got him enrolled in the program,” said Edward. “It looks like he was struggling to keep a leg in both camps—the apprentice program and the gang as well.”

&nb
sp; Amanda raised her hand. “Before we get too far along, can you explain how the apprentice program worked?”

  “Sure,” said Savannah. “In a nutshell, the students were matched to a job in the community that had art connections. After they were hired, their school classes were rescheduled for the morning, and then they would work all afternoon. It was pretty challenging for the students because they had to keep their grades up.”

  “Did they get paid?” said Jacob.

  “Yes, it was important to Dad that artists were paid for their work. It appears that the gang should be a key point in our investigation, but I’m going to need to get that information from Officer Williams.”

  Amanda pulled one of the employment reports over to her place at the table. “There might be some hints in these employment reports. I could do some researching on the Internet for companies that participated.”

  “Oh, thanks. That reminds me. Officer Williams and I interviewed Dennis’s wife Harriet. Could you also make a trawl through the social media sites to see what her situation is? I’d like to look over your shoulder if it wouldn’t bother you. Harriet doesn’t seem all that disturbed by the loss of her husband. During her interview, she made a bad-mannered remark about wanting Dennis’s body quickly so she could dump him in the bay. I don’t understand their relationship.”

  Amanda motioned for Jacob to give her the pad of paper in front of him. He looked down and carefully tore out a sheet from the back of the pad and scooted it over to her. She took a pen out of her huge patchwork handbag and made some notes. “If I make duplicate copies of these sheets, I can take them with me.”

  “Brilliant, go ahead. Even better, use our artwork scanner to make extra copies,” said Savannah. “Edward, do you mind meeting with Officer Williams about the city’s gang history? She knows that I work with all of you, but if she objects, I’ll do it.”