Unleashed_Case of the Collie Flour

by Erik Schubach

  I explained in a calm, professional manner, “You're being all grumpy McButtface. I didn't do anything, and poor Calvin lost his mom, and we're here, and my girls need walking. I had to hire my nemesis to walk them. They won't understand why I'm not there.”

  That stupid eyebrow of hers arched again, she should just tape it up there, she keeps cocking it enough. “Nemesis? Who talks like that? And McButtface? You have an aversion to swearing?”

  I exhaled. “Fuck you. Ask your questions.”

  Ok, I had to smile at the huge grin she shot me. She was getting to me, and she knew it, is this how they break down the perps? Am I a perp? I don't feel like a perp. Oh god, does she think I'm a perp?

  She crossed her arms across her chest, and I realized she was aping my position. I quickly uncrossed my arms and smoothed down the hem of my skirt as she asked, “Let's start with the most important one first. Where were you at 9:30 this morning?”

  Ah, alibi. Crap, I had no alibi, I didn't know I'd be needing one. I mean who wakes up thinking, you know what? I think I need an alibi this morning, I should go out and shake hands with a lot of people.

  I shrugged. “At 9:30 I was finishing labeling my lunch and packing my bag with the supplies I'd need for the day, then checking my correspondences and sending out updates to all my client's owners. At 9:36 I was out the door and walking through the park to the 855 Building, where I arrived at 10:00 sharp, just like every other weekday.”

  She cocked her head and offered offhandedly, “That's very specific timing. Can anyone corroborate this?”

  It struck me hard when I realized what the original question meant. “Oh god, was Miss Reeves there when I picked up Calvin?” I was feeling a little green again and grabbed the water carafe and poured some water in one of the squat glasses. I swallowed greedily, trying to push down the rising bile.

  Then I looked up at her, refusing to cry again. I said, “I'm very precise about my daily schedule. Punctuality breeds professionalism and shows your clients that you respect them and yourself. I haven't varied from my schedule in the years I have been in the city. Mrs. Kim at the corner grocery can confirm that I walked past her place at 9:39 like always and waved at her on my way to work. Besides that, nobody that knows me would have seen me until Jamal opened the door for me at the 855. I was right on time.”

  She nodded at me, and I couldn't read the odd look on her face. Then she narrowed her eyes a bit when I took out a tissue, folded it into a neat square then placed it under the glass since I didn't see any coasters. She was silent a moment, and I defended, “I'm not OCD.”

  Then she asked, “You used your key card to gain access to the residence once you arrived?”

  I nodded.

  “Someone used one to access the staff entrance of the stairwell at 9:15. May I see your keycard?” she asked.

  I started to explain as I dug out my keys, “Each card has a different code, why would you need... oh, you want to make sure the one I have is really mine.”

  She smiled at me, and I handed her my scrunchy bound keys. She looked at them and looked a bit surprised then amused as she read a few labels and then held up the proper card. She detached it from the ring and then cleared her throat, the silver fox stepped back in, and she just held up the card key, and the man retrieved it from her and then disappeared back out the door.

  Then she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, steepling her fingers in front of her as she leaned forward onto the table. “You didn't notice anything out of the ordinary when you went into the apartment? Why don't you step me through what happened when you arrived.”

  I nodded and said, “Well I knocked like I always do, just in case the owners are in for some reason. When I got no response, I just keyed in and stepped in to get Calvin here.” The Border Collie's ears pricked at his name and I reached down and scritched him behind the ear.

  Then I said, “He wasn't there like he normally was, bounding and trying to give me kisses. I called for him and heard him whining down the hall. I thought he had somehow got stuck in the bedrooms, he knows he's not supposed to sleep on the beds.”

  I went through it all in my mind. “I passed the kitchen. What a mess...” I blanched. “That wasn't raspberry filling, was it? Oh god.”

  I covered my mouth and stopped a dry heave as she slid back with her chair a couple feet. I held my hand up, I was ok except the bile rising.

  I pushed on. “I found Calvin locked in the bathroom. He had somehow closed the door...” He hadn't closed the door, had he? Had the killer locked him in? I looked down at him. He could have been hurt!

  The detective was saying, “Whoa, wait, back up a bit. The kitchen was a mess? What's that about raspberry filling? The kitchen was impeccably clean when we arrived.”

  I blinked dumbly at her. Clean? Then it had to have been cleaned after I left with Calvin. That means... I was feeling faint. The killer really had been there while I was. I shook my head. “It had looked like a bag of flour had exploded all over the floor and cabinets. There was...” I swallowed. “Red splotches all over in it which I thought was raspberry filling. I assumed Miss Reeves had an unfortunate baking accident and was leaving the mess for the maid, Amy.”

  Then I looked at her pleadingly. “I just left with Calvin for our walk.”

  She hissed out a breath and said, “The killer must have cleaned up after you left. We had thought the body might have been moved due to the minimal blood on the bed. The trace of white powder in her hair we assumed was cocaine... We sent it to the lab.”

  I whispered, “Cal had been whining at Abigail's bedroom door before we left...”

  Then she looked at me incredulously. “And you didn't check?”

  I blurted out in accusation, “I didn't know anything was wrong! And I don't go snooping around the apartments of my client's owners!”

  She sat back, contemplated something, and then ran a hand down her face and nodded to herself before locking those big brown eyes of hers on me. “Your ethics may have saved your life. It seems the killer was still there, cleaning the body and kitchen when you arrived. You may have suffered the same fate had you gone into the bedroom.”

  This was getting better and better. I really needed to lie down.

  I looked down at Calvin, and my heart broke for him. I asked, “What about Calvin? Does Miss Reeves have family?”

  She shook her head, all of her smirky smartass attitude gone and replaced with what was no doubt computer simulated empathy from robocop there. “We're checking into that now, so we can locate any next of kin. He'll likely be remanded to animal control until next of kin can be found.”

  Then she shared what I'm sure she shouldn't have as she lowered her voice and tone. “Her director said she had left her notes on the script in her apartment, so ran home to get them, but she never came back. So the director went to her apartment when she didn't answer his calls and had security do a wellness check with him. They found her body in the bedroom when they went in. She must have interrupted the intruder, or she was followed. Her spare card was used in the stairwell and at her door.”

  So that's why she was at home instead of work. But if she wasn't targeted and interrupted something... “A robbery?”

  She shrugged. “Don't know yet. That's my job to find out.”

  I sighed. “It is all just so sad. She was such a happy woman. She was even hosting a big party for the cast this Saturday.”

  McLeary quickly jotted something down on her notepad, interest on her face. “A... party?”

  Wait. Did I just help?

  She exhaled loudly again, I could tell she took her job seriously even though she was perhaps the most abrasive woman ever. I respected that. It was the sign of good character and internal compass that you did your best in your job.

  I asked hopefully, “Can... can Calvin stay with me until his family can be located. He doesn't need to go to doggy jail because his mom died. I have power of attourney.”

  She cocked an eyebrow again an
d asked with a bit of sarcasm, “Got a thing for animals?”

  Then when I didn't smile, she sighed and said, “I don't think that would be a problem. I can have an officer give you a ride home. We have your information and may contact you with further questions. Don't leave the city.”

  She slid my driver's license back to me then stood when Buzzcut stepped in and handed her the card key, shaking his head. She nodded to him and said, “Could you please give Miss May here a ride home Dan?”

  He nodded and gave me a winning smile. I looked back at McLeary. “The card key? They entrusted it to me, and I'm not supposed to let it out of my possession.”

  She shook her head. “We'll just hang on to this for a bit. I'm sure the building managers would understand.” I'm so glad she was flippant about my honor and my word. Not.

  She dismissed me with, “Officer Harris will see you home. Thank you for your time Miss May.”

  I grumped out to myself, “Yeah, like I had any choice.”

  She chuckled as I was led back down the hall with Calvin in tow, sniffing at all the interesting smells in the air as we went.

  McLeary was so frustrating, and I hoped I never saw her again.

  Chapter 4 – New Roommate

  I couldn't believe most of my afternoon had been eaten up by that. My heart hurt so much for Calvin, he still didn't know and wouldn't understand that his mom wasn't coming back. How had such a spectacular day turned into such a tragedy?

  I waved to Officer Harris as he pulled back into traffic after dropping us at my door, calling out, “Thank you, Dan!”

  He smiled and waved out his window as he continued down the road. He was actually a pleasant sort. I engaged in smalltalk on the drive over. He told me not to feel slighted at Detective McLeary's abrasive attitude. That she was, what did he say? “A ballbuster if there ever was one, but tough as nails. She's got a single-minded drive to close every case.”

  I grumped my way to the tenant access door of the four-story block building on west 57th, across the bricked patio courtyard from the old fifties style Brooklyn Diner and the 57th Street subway station. I waved at Mrs. Kim at the corner convenience store on the far end of the building. And stepped into the skinny hallway that was no more than five or six feet wide. The paint had been white in a bygone era but was now stained around the edges and starting to look a little rough. Everything was in fairly decent repair, though definitely looking its age.

  I stopped Calvin at the mailboxes set into the wall beside the freight elevator which had been converted into a tenant elevator to meet accessibility requirements, likely in the seventies or eighties. I fished out my keys and just stared at them, already missing the key card for the 855 Building.

  I found the proper key and unlocked the antique brass mail door, which had my name labeled neatly on it, unlike the others that were written on pieces of tape and barely readable, and some were even missing. They were lucky they got mail at all, and probably wouldn't if their apartment numbers weren't sculpted into the brass vine decorations of the boxes. See? A label maker is a good thing!

  Bill, bill, bill, credit card offer, bill. Ooo! A letter from mom. Silly woman was only two hours away and still insisted on writing me. I've shown her how to use email a gazillion times, but she says they are too impersonal and don't show the love reflected in the written word.

  I closed the box and looked down at Cal, who was looking up at me expectantly, his tail swishing from side to side like a metronome. “Ok, come on boy. Let me show you around your new temporary digs.”

  I grinned as we walked to the stairs at the end of the hall. I was still in the same second-floor walk-up I had first lived in when I came to the big city. The difference between then and now, just three years later, is that I now own the little two bedroom apartment. Well, own as in having a mortgage that I have already paid half off, and then she will be mine in just two years if I stick to my five year life plan.

  I explained to Calvin as we reached the second floor to the much more spacious hall between the four apartments on the second floor, “One of the perks to owning instead of renting, Cal, is that I don't have to ask permission to have a four-legged friend come to visit.”

  He cocked his head and his ears pricked up at his name. Silly boy.

  I glanced up the stairs as I moved to my door. There were six studios above me and eight on the fourth floor. I don't think I could live in one of those little five hundred square foot pigeonholes. Not that my nine hundred was much better, but it was mine.

  Noting the faded linoleum tiles were starting to curl at the doorway, I made a mental note to contact the super about it. Now it may sound like the place is run down, but it is far from that, it is just showing its age, and the apartments are much more modern, renovated in the late nineties.

  I opened the door and unclipped the leash and said, “Here it is boy, home sweet home.”

  Calvin ran in to start sniffing at all the new smells. I smiled, and my heart beat a little faster. I can't help it that I love dogs so much.

  What? A dog of my own? Oh goodness no. I wouldn't want a fuzzy baby that I'd have to leave behind every time I went to work. Having them sit all alone in an empty apartment. I just couldn't subject a dog to isolation like that. I'm just happy I can keep my client's company for part of the day, so they don't feel so alone.

  My stomach gurgled loudly as I hung up my leashes on the row of pegs by the door, keeping them in the proper order. I hung my purse on the end peg and placed the mail in the little metal holder at the side table by the door which I had labeled, “Mail.”

  There had been so much going on that I had completely forgotten about lunch. I glanced over at Cal as he wove around all my furniture with his sniffer sniffing and tail wagging with all the boundless energy border collies possess. I wondered when Abigail had fed him, in the morning or afternoon. I felt sort of bad not knowing that about him, but it wasn't like I was privy to his home life and she certainly couldn't tell me.

  I sighed and asked, “What do you say to an early supper, Cal? I don't have any dog food here, just the treats you like. I saw the Beverly's bag at your place, I'll pick some up tomorrow.” I winced.

  Boutique food like that cost a mint and wasn't any more nutritionally balanced than a lot of the more affordable brands. I didn't want to switch him to something different and cause him gastric distress, as it was much harder to clean up after him in the park if he got a little runny because of the change. What? For dog walkers that is a genuine concern, so don't eww me.

  He cocked his head at me, his tongue lolling out to the side, it was adorable. I said, “Right then, tour first then I'll see what I can whip up for us. You could use some spoiling tonight.” Again my heart ached for the loss of his mom.

  I crouched and took off his harness, hung it up and walked into the living space, it was small and encompassed the living room, and the kitchen, divided by the little kitchen table with its four chairs. But dominating the far wall of the space was the reason I fell in love with the apartment and went into negotiations with the building owner to purchase it instead of finding another location to buy.

  The huge six-paned window with a carved wood arch around them was such a spectacular focal point, and it opened the small space up to feel not as cramped. The first thing I did with the building owner's permission when the sale closed, was to take out the large central window and had it replaced with french doors.

  I had a small balcony built which is just big enough for a small table and a couple of chairs where I can go out and watch the city bustle about on the streets below. The building owner was happy to agree as it brought some more curb appeal and distinction to an otherwise run of the mill structure. Well that, and it didn't cost him a thing.

  I could just barely make out the edge of Carnegie Hall from my balcony, and it was so interesting to see the people going to the various performances there. I'm a people watcher.

  I walked into the main room and pointed like he could unders
tand. “Kitchen's there, this is the living room.” I placed a hand on the couch. “No dogs on the furniture.”

  He hopped up on the couch and proceeded to give me a kiss. I giggled and wiped my cheek. “You're not listening very well, Calvin.”

  His tail swished, and I rolled my eyes. I walked over to the three doors on the far side of the room and opened the door to the smaller of the two bedrooms that sandwiched the bathroom. I said as we looked into the ten by ten space, “The small bedroom.”

  It was empty except the bed and chest of drawers, just waiting for a new roommate. The little closet was beside the door to the shared bathroom. And the small operable window had the curtains drawn, hiding the view of the little courtyard between us and the diner.

  This had been my room, shared with Linda when I first moved in. I have the big bedroom now. Well big as in twelve by ten, but those extra two feet and the bigger closet make all the difference in the world. Plus I had two operable windows being on the corner of the building; a small one like the other room overlooking the same courtyard, and then a much larger one that looked out over 57th.

  Cal quickly bounded up onto the bed, and I grinned at him. “No dogs on the bed either.”

  He didn't care, the silly boy.

  I motioned my head to the open door to the bathroom, and he hopped down and followed when I stepped through. The bathroom was a wonder, the most modernized room of the place and as big as the small bedroom. Mirrors covered the far wall between rooms, and it had three, yes three large basins inset into a marble countertop between the doors. That was quite a necessary feature when four of us were living here.

  There was the original claw foot cast iron bathtub that was divine for soaking, as well as a freestanding shower beside it. I said as we passed through, “Bathroom, and...” We stepped through the other door. “My room, where the bed is...” Calvin hopped up on it and looked out the window, his tongue lolling as he wagged his tail while I finished, “...off limits.”