"You are having far too much fun with this," he said.
I was. “Is that a crime?”
“Not yet.”
# # #
"We were buddies, is all, Joe and me. I decided to stop by his place to say hello. Nothing wrong with that.”
Bogdan sat with his arms crossed, his beady eyes darting around. He wasn’t exactly a picture of composure or innocence.
“As long as no one dies,” Woodley said. “And I understand you called ahead. Why is that?”
He looked shocked. “What makes you think I called Joe?”
Bogdan hesitated and Woodley pressed him. "I’ve got your phone records, Bogdan. You called Joe and talked for one minute."
"You can tell that stuff?" He snorted.
“Easy as pie.”
He snorted. “Then I’m getting rid of the damn phone thing. It seemed kinda handy but if you can know every call I make…"
"So why did you call him?"
"To see if he was home alone, of course. I thought I’d stop in and say hello, but there was no point if he wasn’t there."
"You called Joe and wanted to see him, but it was just to say hello? You called ahead for that?”
"Sure. Why walk all that way if he wasn’t home, right?"
"There is something you aren’t telling us," Woodley said calmly.
Bogdan looked surprised. “Course. You the police. There’s lots I ain’t saying, and none of it got a thing to do with Joe dying." I had to admit that there was probably a lot of truth in that statement.
"This attitude of yours is doing quite a bit to make me feel like you might have killed him."
"That’d be real stupid of me."
“What would be?”
“Killing Old Joe.”
"Is that your defense, that you are stupid?"
He scowled. “My defense is I didn’t do it. I had no reason to kill Old Joe. We’s friends. Besides, when I come in that room and saw him hanging there, I first thing I did, when I could believe what I saw, was cut him down.”
“So you say."
"Damn right."
“You liked him. Well, it seems everyone liked him and yet he’s dead anyway.”
He sat back, looking disgusted. “If he killed hisself then he was a right mean bastard, cause he knew I needed him." He wiped his face. “And truth is, Joe wouldn’t have done that to me.”
“To you? Okay, now tell me the real reason you called him earlier.” James let the explanation just sit there untouched. He didn’t need to say much. You could tell from his voice that Bogdan was making it up. Watching him squirm in his seat it was clear that he knew we didn’t believe him. The anguish in his face told me that he was hiding a secret and it was one that he thought was important to guard. That made me sure it had to have something to do with Joe’s death.
Remembering Woodley’s admonition, I bit my tongue and waited to see what might come out.
Woodley stared at Bogdan. “Look son, I know that Joe didn’t have many visitors. Someone being there would be unusual. I think you knew someone was there.”
Bogdan visibly weighed his options. “Yeah. Okay, what happened is I came walking up the house and heard voices.” He made a face. “I heard him talking to that Rudy Phlint."
"And you didn’t want Rudy to see you at Joe’s?”
“No way.”
“Why couldn’t he know you were meeting Joe?"
I saw Bogdan’s shoulders sag as he accepted that he was going to have to tell Woodley what he was up to. “Cause he’d figure out why I was there. He’s not some friend. He might tell someone."
"So there were people who would be upset if they knew you were visiting Joe?"
"Yeah. They wouldn’t like it one little bit." My heart pounded. This was the closest we’d come to hearing anything like a motive.
“How upset? And with you or Joe?”
“With us both, I’d say.” He made a face, as if he was just realizing the implications. “They’d be upset, but not enough to kill someone. It wasn’t that kind of upset.”
"Who is it that would be upset?"
Bogdan weighed the pros and cons of lying, re-examined his track record in lying to the police, then let out a whistle. "Can I tell you in private?"
"In private?"
"I mean, if I tell, I need your promise that you won’t go telling people why I was meeting Old Joe. It wouldn’t go over well."
Woodley considered the request. "I’ll promise this much…. If I don’t have to tell anyone I won’t."
Bogdan nodded glumly. "Have to do, I expect. Well, Joe was helping me set up my own business—consulting, he calls it.”
“A business?”
“We was developing some recipes for slivovitz."
“Slivovitz?” Woodley asked.
"I thought your family tried that and gave up on the idea.” I blurted it out without thinking, incurring a glare from Woodley.
"That’s right, we tried it a while back. Recently, my Daddy sent me to Baton Rouge to get some ammo. While I was there I was looking around in one of them big grocery stores and looking at the booze I got me an idea for a way to make something close.”
“Close?”
“It doesn’t have to be authentic to get them rich people to take to it."
"I give up," Woodley said. "Tell me what you’re talking about you two."
“As I understand, it’s a fruit brandy that is real popular in Serbia and Croatia."
“Them Croatians don’t know diddly about slivovitz," Bogdan muttered.
"So your family came from Serbia, I take it?" Woodley asked.
"Yeah.”
“And if you tried to make it before, what happened? Why didn’t it work?”
“It came out okay, but it cost too much to make. You can’t get what you need. You gotta ferment a fruit mix. Here in Louisiana, in the swamp anyway, it can be hard to get enough good fruit to make the stuff. You got to ferment it to get the base liquor. Some of it mildewed.”
“That’s what the Karo was for?” Woodley asked. “We know Joe was buying the stuff. Your money?”
Bogdan smiled. “You’re smart. Yeah. The Karo is made from corn which means it is easy to get it to ferment. There was only enough in town for us make a test batch. But it was worth trying. If it tasted good we knew we could order that stuff online and get it delivered.”
“Ah the modern world.”
“Plus as long as you don’t open the bottles it doesn’t spoil or get mildewed.”
“How do you make fruit brandy out of Karo?”
“Joe and I figured that we could make up a basic alcohol and then get our hands on enough fruit to flavor it. Maybe some of that fruit syrup they use for snow cones even. We were still thinking.”
"Sounds awful," I said.
Bogdan spread his hands. “Maybe so, but we never got far enough to find out. It was just an idea. Joe had just got the stuff, the Karo, and was figuring on starting up the mash in a day or two.”
"And your family didn’t like the idea of you making it?”
"They just didn’t want to mess with it. Daddy wants us all doing the family business and didn’t want me doing much of anything without his say so.”
“But you wanted to do it on your own?”
“And see if I couldn’t get one of them arty licenses.”
“The what?” Woodley asked.
“Artisanal license?” I asked.
“That’s it. Joe says if you got one of them, the Feds leave you alone and this would be a trick bit of hooch. Them Phlints are doing right well making legal stuff and I figured I could enjoy raking in the money and not having to hide. But Daddy would have a fit if he knew I was going behind his back."
“And that day you went over to see how Joe was doing?”
“I heard he got the Karo and thought I might help get the mash going, but when I got to the porch and I heard Rudy say something, so I knew he was there. I called Joe so he could get rid of him. I was close by, bu
t I waited a while. I heard Rudy say he was leaving, then I heard him stomping through the palmetto.”
“And you went in?”
“No, I waited a while."
"How long is a while?"
Bogdan shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I thought I should wait until Rudy was clear. I didn’t want him doubling back, maybe having forgotten something. But when I lay down to wait, I fell asleep.”
"You called him and then fell asleep."
"I’d been doing a little drinking. Didn’t figure it mattered what time I went in seeing as Joe didn’t set a specific time.”
"So someone could’ve gone to the house after Rudy left and before you arrived?"
“S’pose so. I didn’t see anyone come down the trail, but when I’m sleeping…"
“What time did you go in?”
“Around five thirty. He didn’t answer the door, so I went in. That’s when I found him."
"You didn’t touch anything?"
“I touched Joe and the rope. I cut him down. He was all pale and I think he crushed his windpipe when the noose took his weight."
"That’s exactly what happened, Bogdan. And you’re sure you and Old Joe weren’t fighting about anything, like about him working with Rudy?"
"Why would I care about that? They been working together for years now and it’s got nothing to do with my project. I wanted to show my family I could do something on my own. Then, if they want in on it, they’d be welcome. If it didn’t work, well I didn’t want them know I wasn’t doing what Daddy wanted."
Woodley stared at me for a moment. It was an inquisitive stare and I looked back, giving him my wide-eyed ‘I don’t have a clue’ gaze. Daddy always said that women don’t stare. Men do that. Women gaze, even if at times it’s a rather intense and focused gaze. Daddy was sexist but if I don’t take advantage of such distinctions when they work to my advantage I’d be nothing but a fool.
Woodley closed his notebook. "Bogdan, I’m going to let you go. I won’t tell anyone about your business plan." He stared at me. "It will stay in this room. Don’t go disappearing, even into the swamp. I might want to talk to you again."
"Yessir," he said, getting up. “I hope you find who killed Old Joe, Investigator. He was a good guy.” Then he quickly left the room before Woodley changed his mind.
"Now that," I said, "is a classic unstable observer."
"Don’t you know it? And if we believe what we’ve heard, the death took place in the time between Rudy leaving and Bogdan daring to show his face in the doorway. But we are still stuck with thinking someone killed Old Joe, he killed himself, or Sarah’s accident scenario took place. If we don’t believe them, either Rudy or Bogdan is a killer who feels no remorse and has nerves of steel." He scowled. “That last factor being rather difficult to accept.”
"Or, even if they lied, Old Joe killed himself or had an accident."
"In short, we have no idea what happened.”
"Except that we are stuck with choices where the unlikely meets the nearly impossible."
Woodley stood up. "There are no boxes for those on the report forms I have to fill out. We need another take on this." He put down his pen. “I need to look at the crime scene again. We have to be missing something. I can believe that the perfect crime would be committed in a Louisiana swamp.”
“On the other hand, what better place? No witnesses but the alligators. Maybe you should have Sanders interrogate them.”
“That’s probably standard police procedure out here,” he said. “I’ll check with Chief Tanner on that one.”
CHAPTER TEN
I was on my second cup of coffee when tiny Trinity walked into the salon. I tried to hide my surprise at seeing her when I said hello, then I remembered that she’d booked another appointment with Pete. We’d both wondered what was going on with her because she never came in more than twice a year. Actually I was pleased that she’d done it because I thought getting out more might help her learn to relax around people.
At that moment I wasn’t so sure about that call. She looked really rattled. Something had her more than on edge. The girl was shaking like a leaf. "Come in and sit down," I said.
"I… I…"
"You are right on time," I said, trying to sound soothing. Soothing is something I’m usually good at, but Trinity wasn’t impressed. "My hair…"
I could see the idea of sitting around and gossiping wasn’t her cup of tea.
”Pete isn’t here quite yet, but if it’s okay, Donna can give you a lovely wash and head massage," I told her. “Then Pete will cut your hair when he gets back." Trinity gave Donna a nervous glance and nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. I hadn’t had time to assess Donna much yet, but I had supervised her giving a couple of washes and seemed to have an aptitude for it and even enjoyed it. She was pleasant enough and built a rapport with clients quickly. That was the most important thing at the moment, as experience said that getting Trinity with her head in the sink and her head being massaged would be a good thing.
Donna put on a cheerful smile and, speaking in a sweet, calming voice, helped Trinity into the chair and got the cape and towel on her. Then she let Trinity’s hair down. "Such lovely hair," Donna murmured as she tipped Trinity back so she could get her head over the sink and begin to wet it.
For once things went the way they should and I heard a soft sigh from Trinity as Donna got to work. I went by Donna and whispered in her ear. "A long and luxurious wash," I said.
Donna’s smile told me that she understood. Donna was a definite step up from Ella in terms of attitude. Her aptitude was the only thing I was worried about. As she settled Trinity into the chair and tipped her back, she talked softly, and it was clear that she did understand what Trinity needed.
# # #
Nellie and Pete both arrived just as Donna was drying Trinity’s hair. I had shown her how to work tea tree oil into the girl’s scalp with one hand as she worked the blow dryer with the other. She seemed to have a deft touch, which was important.
"She’s got a knack for that," Nellie said under her breath as she watched.
Pete beamed happily. "Do you think we might have found a keeper?"
I nodded. "So far so good, Pete. Time will tell if she is a good fit, and we’ll certainly want to give her more training and tasks before we decide, but so far, she seems fine. Better than fine."
The relief Pete felt was palpable.
"I’ll go say hi," Pete said, and went over to talk with Trinity. She gave him a big smile that seemed rather promising.
"I think I’ll pass on the cut this time," she said.
"Why not? It still looks good, Trinity."
"Can I come back for another wash next week?"
"As often as you like, Trinity," Pete said. "We are here to do what you want."
She flashed a thin smile. "Great. Monday morning?"
Pete grabbed the appointment book. "Do you want Donna to do the wash?"
"Yes, please. She’s great. Not that you aren’t…"
Pete laughed. "You can’t hurt my feelings that easily, Trinity. You want Donna to wash your hair, then she does it. What time?"
"Nine?"
He wrote it down. "I’ve got you down for nine on Monday." He smiled at her. "You’re practically a regular now."
The girl looked almost human as she got out the chair, but she hesitated as she started out the door, almost as if she was afraid to step outside. I was starting toward her to see if I could help when she took a deep breath and walked out. I saw Nellie looking at me. "I was going to check and see if something was wrong. At least she wasn’t shaking."
"What do you think winds Trinity up so tight?" Nellie asked me. Pete was congratulating Donna on doing a good job.
"It’s hard to know. Amazingly I don’t know much about her at all."
"I know her mother left town a number of years ago. Oh right! It was while you were living in Baton Rouge. That’s why you don’t know. Something awful that happened, but I don’t reca
ll what it was… if I ever knew. Anyway, one thing I remember is that Trinity was eighteen and wouldn’t leave."
"Too bad Dolores is boycotting us. She’d know."
"She isn’t the only one who knows things." We turned to see Selina Ferrara coming in.
"Was that Trinity I saw leaving?"
"It was," I said.
"Hello Selina," Nellie said. "What’s going on? Do you need a touch up on those nails already?"
She shook her hand. "Actually, I broke one."
"There seems to be a run of broken nails lately. If you’ll recall, I warned you that putting those large nail charms on would be risky. And you had me use both gel and nail glue so they wouldn’t come off."
"I’m not blaming you, Nellie and I don’t need an ‘I told you so’ from you. I just need it fixed before I lose the nail."
Nellie spun her chair around. "Then sit in my chair and I will do my magic."
"Speaking of magic…" Selina said as she settled in. A big raven haired woman in her mid thirties, Selina usually managed to twist conversation onto her favorite subject—the spirit world. She fancied herself a psychic researcher of the first order.
"I hope this has to do with Trinity."
"It does. She is troubled."
"We kind of knew that. It’s the why that’s a mystery."
"There is no mystery. It’s because her father is still around. That’s her trouble. He won’t let her rest."
"I don’t get it."
"Right!" Nellie said. "Her father killed himself. It was a mess. Do you remember the details?"
Happy to be the one with the facts, or what passed for them in Knockemstiff, Selina smiled. "He hung himself in the living room. Trinity came home from school to find the body. It messed her up pretty bad. She was hysterical… totally freaked out."
"Understandably."
"Debbie, her mother, had her put away for a few months. I understand that the shrink said that she had made a connection between finding his dead body and being responsible for his death. I’m pretty sure that connection was her father’s fault."
"It was the dead guy’s fault?" Nellie laughed. She had sat down on her stool and taken Selina’s hand so that she could assess the nail and repair the damage.
False Nails and Tall Tales (The Teasen and Pleasen Hair Salon Cozy Mystery Series Book 5) Page 12
