The Untimely Death Box Set

by James Kipling

  This was a swanky shopping district with close access to the SEPTA trains and trolleys. Yuan walked up to the door and rang the bell for admittance. The young woman behind the counter eyed him with interest and unlocked the door and let him inside. He heard it automatically latch behind him as it shut.

  Inside the store, purses and handbags lined the glass cases. Two women dressed in black greeted him and offered to show him their merchandise. Yuan glanced around the room and found all the major designers on display. Each item, carefully lit, exuded exquisite craftsmanship. These were not the kind of purses you would find at the local department store. Purses were organized by model and end use.

  He’d been in it a few times before, but didn’t recognize the women who were on duty. It wasn’t a problem. He couldn’t remember what he bought or who he’d bought it for.

  “Pardon my rudeness,” he told the nearest woman, “but I’m trying to locate this purse”- he pulled out an enlarged photograph of the one Alvarez had carried and showed it to her.”

  She looked at it carefully and returned the photograph to him; a little disappointed she wouldn’t make a sale so close to the end of the day. The lady he spoke to was a small black woman with long, straight hair. She was tiny, not more than a hundred pounds and spoke with a seductive voice. Yuan felt the day wasn’t turning out so bad.

  “We can get it for you,” she told Yuan. “It’s a Le Chat Bleu model from the Hollanse collection. Nice design, it was released last spring and has four two carat diamonds sitting on the catch. The purse is made of white crocodile skin from Egypt. The inner liner is hand-stitched and the handle ivory. It’s made in Italy and retails for fifty thousand dollars. Did you want us to have one sent here so you can see it?”

  “I just wanted to know if the photograph is of a real one,” he told her. “There’s too many fakes running around and I don’t trust a designer label unless it’s been authenticated.” He again showed her the enlarged photograph of the purse from the screen capture the previous night.

  “I’d need the purse here to look at it to know whether or not it’s fake,” she told him. “You can’t really tell from a picture. There are so many ways to fake a designer purse. I’m not qualified to rate one; you need someone from the manufacturer to do that. There are certain “tells” we look for such as the where the label is stitched, the better purses have microchips implanted into them so you know they’re real. Crocodile hide is hard to fake and that is another way to tell. But, really, I would need to have it in front of me to give you an honest opinion.”

  Yuan thanked her, checked his hair in the display case and brought out the photograph of the original screen capture from the other night where Sandra Alvarez was taking the cigarette lighter from the woman. He pointed to the picture of Sandra Alvarez. If she was a soap opera fan, she would know who was in the photograph, but he wanted a base line to ask his questions.

  “Do you recognize the woman it this picture?” He asked her. She leaned closer, which allowed Yuan a clear look at her back. It was nice and firm. He didn’t mix work and play, but she might have a business card he could take with him.

  She stared at it for a full minute, and then shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t, Sir. Is this part of a police investigation? I’m not supposed to talk to people who come in here asking strange questions.”

  Yuan produced a badge and showed it to her. She pulled out her smart phone and took a picture of it. The sales clerk waited a few seconds until her phone chimed and looked intently at the screen.

  “Sorry,” she told him, “I had to check. You have no idea how many people have tried to use the ‘I’m a cop’ swindle on me since I started here. You check out, Officer Yuan.”

  “Thank you, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Esther. Esther Preen.” She handed him a business cared which he pocketed. Yuan gave her one of his in return. She took it and slid it down the front of her dress, smiling as she did so. Yes, the day was turning out all right.

  “I’m conducting a murder investigation, Esther,” he told her. “A purse belonging to the victim was recovered at the crime scene and I have to check it out. Wait a minute, do you have an application on your phone which checks out cops?”

  She held out the phone and let him see it. There he was in his police officer uniform he’d worn until a few months ago. It had specifications, reputation and marital status. Yuan shook his head.

  “The wonders of the Internet,” he said to her. She smiled back at him.

  “I’ve used this thing at several clubs,” Ester told him. “Best way in the world to get rid of drunk horny dogs who try to convince me they’re cops.”

  “Let me show you another picture,” he told Ester and brought up the image of Bella from the social media page where he’d located her soon after meeting the woman. She had some off-duty potential and Yuan wanted to keep her in his “prospect” file.

  Ester stared at the picture, which was a good profile, for another minute and shook her head again. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize her either. Is she connected to the murder?”

  Yuan ignored the question and resumed asking her some of his own. “Did anyone come here to borrow the purse I just showed you in the picture? I know you’re not here all the time, but we were informed the purse originated at this store.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” she told him again. “But we are strictly forbidden by the corporation which owns this store to loan anything out. I could lose my job if I did something like that. I have to do a physical inventory twice a day and I’d know if a purse of this value was missing from our store.”

  Yuan thanked her and left the store. At least he had her business card.

  ********************

  The next morning Yuan and Williams headed out from the district office to work on the murdered actress case. Their immediate supervisor wanted them to devote all the time they could to it as the case was making the national news and the PPD didn’t need bad publicity. Once again, they took Yuan’s black SUV, although Williams offered to use his “hooptie” car. Yuan cringed at the notion and told Williams his would do fine for the present.

  They stopped first at a diner to have breakfast before heading out to conduct witness interviews. Yuan gave the waitress strict instructions on how to cook his eggs, whereas Williams told her “over easy it just fine today.” They sat down to their coffees, trying to get an angle on the case before them.

  “It’s a mind-bender,” Williams said to Yuan, pushing his old overcoat to one side.

  “There has to be a solution,” Yuan responded, adjusting his silk tie in the window. He liked the appearance the gold collar pin gave him, but had left it at home earlier in the day. The woman from last night had left before he did, but made certain to start the laundry. He liked her. She was new, but a definite keeper.

  “We need to find the purse and lighter,” Williams stated to his partner. “We also need to find out who is lying to us.”

  “Agreed. I propose we head back to the movie set. Mr. Martinez won’t be happy to see us again, but we need to know.”

  “I got the email from Stanford last night. He’s certain the time of death fits the original estimate. He won’t budge and stands by his data.”

  “I was afraid he’d say that. Well, let’s head on down to the movie set. We need to find out why Martinez lied about the ambassador’s daughter as well.” They paid their bill to the waitress and headed on to the movie set.

  Yuan found a parking spot in the same place as before. He eyed the meter reader as she walked down the row of cars, checking out the tags. She knew how long each vehicle had remained in its location. She was quite attractive; the lady cast a fine profile in her uniform and Yuan stopped for a few seconds to admire her. She flashed her eyes back at him and continued on her way.

  “What was that all about?” Williams said to his partner as he watched the wordless connection.

  “Just a little possibi
lity,” Yuan responded. “You never know where opportunity can present itself.”

  ***************

  “I said I need that purse back now!” they could hear a voice shouting as they walked up to the movie set.

  It was Martinez and he was yelling at his production assistant Bella. The young woman was in tears pleading with him that she had no way of getting it back. Her boss wasn’t having any excuses and warned her she had twenty-four hours to return it or face dismissal.

  “And I can guarantee that you’ll never work in the industry again!” he yelled at her before slamming the door to his trailer.

  “It didn’t sound good.” Williams said to Yuan as they watched Bella sob by the door to the trailer.

  “It doesn’t sound like a good performance review,” quipped Yuan. He had little patience for a man who raised his voice in public and less for one who made a woman cry in public. Not that he had anything against crying women, he often had that effect on them, but only while they were calling him ‘daddy’ and asking for another one.

  “I’m not sure we should be involved in this,” Williams said to his partner. “I don’t know how the department policy is on employee and employer issues among civilians, but we already have a problem with Martinez.”

  “Can’t stand these Hollywood types,” Yuan told him as they stood still and took in the view of the movie set. “They think the entire world revolves around them. Wait till his next movie bombs, then he’ll learn how much tinsel town really cares.”

  “So what’s wrong?” Yuan asked Bella as they walked up to her. “It sounds like you and the director were having some words back there.”

  She couldn’t talk and continued to sob as she leaned up against the trailer. Williams couldn’t handle hysterical women. It was his nature to want to help them and it had nearly cost him a few cases in the past. She was young and fragile, which brought out the father in him he’d never been. She had him concerned because anything could happen in this situation. He needed to get her to calm down, but there was no way to do it. In the old days, he could’ve given her a nip from a hip flask, but Internal Affairs would have his butt if he tried it today. So there was nothing to do but let her wail and hope the situation changed.

  The door to the trailer flung open. It was Martinez again and he glared at the two detectives, and then turned his gaze to Bella. “Shut up!” he yelled at her. “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen. I can find plenty of production assistants who will be glad to do your job for a fraction of what I pay you!” He plodded down the stairs of leading to his trailer and loomed over her.

  “Do you lie to the cops all the time or just here in Philly?” Yuan asked him from a foot away. He’d silently moved into personal range in case Martinez made any threatening moves towards Bella, but he didn’t think he would have to worry about it. Yuan pegged Martinez as a bully, someone who liked to use the power he wielded over people lower on the totem pole for the sense of power it gave him.

  “What are you talking about?” Martinez snapped back at him. He quickly turned his attention from Bella to Yuan. The Chinese detective stepped closer, now his nose was an inch away from the film director.

  “The woman in the restaurant the other night wasn’t the daughter of the Czech ambassador, was she?” Yuan demanded. “It was someone else. Why did you lie to us?”

  Martinez looked dumfounded at them and his mouth dropped open. His expression alone told the two detectives everything they needed to know.

  “We talked to the restaurant manager last night,” Williams explained as he fished out a paper napkin from his pocket and handed it to the sobbing Bella. “He confirmed you were with a man and a woman there last night. He told us you introduced them as the ambassador and his daughter. Funny thing, when we showed him the picture where you had identified the ambassador’s daughter, he didn’t recognize her. What we don’t understand is why you’re lying to us. You can make the police very disappointed by lying to them Mr. Martinez.”

  Both detectives had him backed up against the trailer. They were no more than two inches away from him in either direction. They could see the cold sweat on the director’s face.

  “Why don’t you gentlemen come inside and talk with me,” he suggested and indicated the trailer.

  “Sure you don’t want to have your lawyer present?” Yuan asked him.

  “I don’t think it’ll be necessary,” he told the detectives while marching back up the metal staircase. They followed him. Like the trailer, the staircase was portable and rattled in place as they went up it.

  They sat down in a few chairs in what passed for his site office and looked around. Stacks of movie scripts were piled up on his makeshift desk with empty paper coffee cups scattered around it. A few bottles of cola and rum were stacked against the wall next to a desk clock. Two cell phones, plugged into the wall were next to it along with a walkie-talkie placed in its charging station. The back of the trailer consisted of a table, kitchenette and clothes thrown around a portable bed. It was a bachelor setting, even though the director was supposed to be married. Three boxes of open condoms completed the setting.

  Martinez pulled out his cell phone, punched a number and then told the person on the other end he wasn’t to be bothered until he called them back. He returned the phone to his shirt pocket and turned to face the detectives.

  “Adriana Havel,” he told them. “The lady in the picture you showed me is Adriana Havel. She is the ambassador’s daughter. I had the woman outside crying with me last night when I met with the ambassador. Her name is Bella.”

  “We’ve been introduced,” Yuan stated. “So, I’m going to ask you once again, why did you lie to us?”

  “I was trying to protect Adriana,” he explained to them.

  “From what?” Williams demanded.

  “Her father,” he explained. “They’re old dual monarchy blue bloods who suffered a thousand insults while the communists were in power, or so they tell me. When the country divided between the Czech Republic and Slovakia, the new government tapped him to be their representative in the West. Nevertheless, he’s still a proud aristocrat, no matter how democratic his country claims to be.”

  “His daughter met me at party months ago,” Martinez explained. “She wants to become an actress, but she is afraid her father would disown her if he ever found out.”

  “He’d find out sooner or later if she’s successful,” Yuan observed. “A little bit hard concealing it on the big screen or stage.”

  “She hoped to act under a different name until hitting the big time,” Martinez explained. “Once she had achieved a certain amount of fame, she could support herself and would no longer need her father’s approval. The item you saw in the photograph was not a cigarette lighter, but a high-density flash drive. I did a photo shoot with her the other day and I sent her to the Kimmel Center to give it to Sandra Alvarez so she could look at the pictures.”

  It was silent in the trailer for a few seconds as Martinez allowed his revelation to sink into them. For a few of those seconds, he hoped that hey would leave the trailer, and him, alone. It almost worked and a law enforcement official with less experience might have bought the story with no questions. However, these were not your average detectives.

  “Perry Ironsides,” Williams was the first to speak.

  “What did you say?” Martinez spoke.

  “Yeah,” Yuan said to him. “Saw that episode too. My mom went out and bought a whole bunch of American videos of old TV shows when we first moved here. I grew up watching the The Streets of Los Angeles with her. I think that was from the first season.”

  “Or the second,” Williams noted. “Of course it could be any of them because they all blur together after a while.”

  “Nice try, Mr. Martinez,” Williams said to him, “but we’re trying to tell you we don’t buy your seventies TV cop show explanation. An ambassador’s daughter who wants to become an actress? Private
photographs exchanged at a concert. Who do you think you’re talking to, Senior?”

  Williams switched to Spanish, which he rightly guessed Martinez spoke better than English. “So how was she in bed, Sir? Did she cry to the heavens and weep on your pillow? Did she call you ‘Poppi’? Did you tell the lost dove she would have to make up an excuse to her father where she was while you were taking naked photographs of her young body? How many women have you told would become rich and famous after you broke them? Let me guess, you didn’t know who she was after desfloramiento?” He’d used the Spanish term for deflowering a virgin; the allusion was the same in both languages.

  “You can’t talk to me like that,” Martinez told him in English.

  “Like what?” Yuan spoke. “I don’t speak a word of Spanish. I have no idea what you two were talking about.”

  “I think we have all the information we need,” Williams spoke to his partner. “Let’s go. I don’t see a reason to stay around this place any longer.”

  “I agree,” Yuan said and they both walked out of the trailer. Martinez sat in the chair and stared at the floor. He said nothing as they left.

  Bella was gone by the time they left the trailer. They looked around for her and decided to return to the SUV. They had the information they needed and had another group of witnesses to interview.

  “So it wasn’t a cigarette lighter after all,” Yuan said to Williams as he climbed into the vehicle. “It explains a lot. But we still don’t know why Sandra Alvarez stepped into the alley. We don’t know for sure what was on the flash drive.”

  “I don’t think they were Adriana Havel’s graduation pictures,” Williams grumbled. “That old goat disgusted me. He’s been plucking flowers for how many years? And he tries that bullshit on us?”

  Chapter 5

  Yuan and Williams had lunch at the same diner they’d used a day earlier. They were in South Philly, the land of cheesesteaks and sweet potato fries. Not too far away stood a theater made from a closed school that showed revivals of Broadway shows and local singalong productions. South Philly had seen better days, but so had many other parts of the city. The area was still a hopping place in the evening, but Williams wondered how long it would all last. At least until he retired, he hoped.