by Marie Celine
Kitty hurried on to Gretchen’s office and ran into Jack. ‘Jack,’ she cried, half scared out of her wits and half delighted. He stood just inside the doorway. ‘W–what are you doing here?’
He cocked his head and wiggled his eyebrows, legs spread wide, effectively blocking her way. ‘Doing my job. Looking for clues. Following up leads. Interviewing witnesses.’ Her fiancé folded his arms across his chest. ‘What about you, Kitty? I could ask you the same question.’ His left eyebrow shot up. ‘And I think I just did.’
‘Well …’
Jack grunted, took her arm and led her back out into the hall. ‘Yes?’
‘I, er, came in to work on the show?’ Kitty replied. She hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question, but it had come out that way.
‘That’s funny,’ said Jack, pushing her gently up against the wall, ‘I heard the show is on hold until Tuesday. And, if I’m not mistaken, this is Sunday. Why aren’t you out delivering meals to your hungry little pet clients?’
Kitty squeezed out from between his arms. ‘I thought I’d do some food research – for the show. Besides, you know I don’t do my pet chef work on Sundays. That’s the one day of the week I take off.’
Jack nodded. ‘I forgot. Research, huh?’ He frowned. ‘You’re not still trying to solve Gretchen’s murder, are you?’
Kitty raised her chin haughtily. ‘So what if I am?’
Jack sighed. ‘Leave it to the police, Kitty. We know how to do our jobs, without the aid of amateurs. Besides, you could get hurt.’
Kitty thought of the crumpled up, anonymous warning note in her purse. ‘Oh, really? I must be making some progress, otherwise why would I have received this?’ She pulled the paper from her purse and thrust it at Jack.
He slowly peeled the note open, his face darkening as he read. ‘This is serious, Kitty. Where did you get this note? You should have given this to the police right away. There could be fingerprints. This could be evidence.’
‘I found it on my windshield this morning,’ Kitty said, practically boasting. She explained the circumstances to Jack, who shook his head the whole time.
‘I don’t like this at all,’ he said, tapping the paper. ‘You’re getting threatening notes. What is that it’s written with? Lipstick? Crayon?’
‘I’m not sure. Lipstick, I think.’
‘This case is a mess. You’re getting threatening notes, I find out Gretchen Corbett’s condo gets turned upside-down.’
‘What?’
‘The producer’s condo. Someone or someones really did a number on the joint. They ransacked the place—’
‘Ransacked?’ blurted Kitty. ‘But, that can’t be. All we did was …’ All she and Fran had done was open a few drawers, poke around a little bit. They certainly hadn’t trashed the place.
Jack eyed her warily. ‘What do you mean, that can’t be? Who is this we and what did you do, Kitty?’
‘N–nothing. I mean, I’m just surprised is all.’ Please, please, please let there be no fingerprints of ours, she thought desperately. ‘Any idea who would do such a thing?’
Jack pursed his lips. ‘We’re looking into it. In fact, we may just about have this case wrapped up.’
‘Oh?’ Kitty’s heart sank. She had been counting on solving this crime herself.
‘You sound almost disappointed.’
‘Don’t be silly. I want Gretchen’s killer found and brought to justice as much as anyone does.’
‘Kitty, as much as I am not sure I want to know the answer – you didn’t go breaking into Gretchen’s condo, did you?’
‘Don’t be silly, Jack.’ She smiled and squeezed his hand. Technically, she wasn’t lying. They hadn’t broken in. After all, Fran had a key.
Kitty figured a quick change of subject was in order. ‘So, where is the lieutenant?’ She was not going to speak the vixen’s name aloud.
‘Having a little talk with a person of interest,’ Jack answered. His head swiveled. ‘In fact, here she comes now.’
She even walks like a runway model, Kitty noticed. She silently cursed as Lieutenant Nordstrom came up the hall with a doughy looking man in his thirties who seemed to shuffle more than step. He was wearing baggy blue jeans and a wrinkled green and blue flannel shirt. His greasy black hair was slicked back from a large, lumpy forehead.
It wasn’t until they got up close that Kitty realized that the man’s hands were handcuffed behind him. ‘Ready to go, Jack?’ Nordstrom ignored Kitty. ‘Teddy, here, is ready to come down to the station with us.’ She nudged his shoulder. ‘Aren’t you, Teddy?’
He nodded silently, his expression glum. His gray eyes dull.
‘I’ll be right there,’ replied Jack.
‘Who was that?’ Kitty asked once the lieutenant and her prisoner were gone.
‘That’s Thadeus – or Teddy, as everybody around here calls him. He’s the custodian. Teddy Czinski.’
‘Czinski?’ Kitty coughed. Her eyes bulged. ‘As in Chevy Czinski?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What do you want to talk to him for?’
‘One of the cameramen claims he saw Teddy coming out of Gretchen’s office not long before you found her. We’ve been wanting to talk to him for the past couple of days but he hadn’t been around the studio since and he hadn’t been at his place. Finally, we got word from security that he’d come in today. And since we’d found his finger and thumb print on her locket—’
Kitty interrupted. ‘He killed Gretchen?’
Jack shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘But why?’
‘Who knows? Why does any child hate one of their parents enough to want to kill them?’
SIXTEEN
Kitty’s head was spinning so fast she thought it would come unscrewed. Not only did Chevy Czinski have a son, that son worked at Santa Monica Film Studios and was Gretchen’s son to boot.
Did that mean that Cindy was also Chevy’s daughter? Or had there been another man in Gretchen’s life who’d fathered Cindy? Maybe the mysterious Cam?
And no matter what the answers, what did it all mean?
She was more confused now than ever. She’d never admit it to Jack, but this crime solving wasn’t as easy as they made it look on TV shows. All she knew for sure was that Gretchen had been killed at some point during her show. That gave most people alibis. After all, like Kitty, they’d been busy with the show itself. The most likely culprit was someone not directly connected to the show then. Somebody like Fandolfi.
After getting Kitty to agree to keep her nose out of official police business for the millionth time, Jack, looking somewhat appeased, departed. He’d taken Kitty’s threatening note with him and said he’d have it checked for latent prints, though he didn’t sound optimistic. ‘If we find Thadeus Czinski’s prints on your note, that will pretty much shut the door on his future.’
‘I only got the note this morning, Jack. If Teddy was at the studio, he couldn’t possibly have written it.’
Jack was already shaking his head. ‘Teddy only showed up for work about twenty minutes ago.’
Poor Teddy, thought Kitty. She didn’t know the young man at all, but something about him made her feel sorry for him. He looked so harmless, so innocent. She couldn’t believe for a minute that he had murdered Gretchen – his very own mother.
Kitty had agreed to meet Jack for dinner. That still left her plenty of time to investigate. She’d told him that she’d keep her nose clean, but she hadn’t said anything one way or the other about getting her hands dirty.
‘Sorry to stop by unannounced,’ Kitty said.
‘That’s all right,’ replied Chevy, grabbing a scoop of giraffe kibble and pouring it into the large stainless steel bowl that belonged to Clement, his wobble-legged giraffe. ‘I’m not much for company – human company, that is – but I make an exception for you. I do enjoy your company, Kitty.’
Kitty watched the old beast as he ambled over and lazily nosed at his bowl – Clement, not Chevy.
‘So,’ said Chevy, turning and heading for the front porch, ‘what can I do for you?’
There was no point beating around the bush. ‘I wanted to ask you about your son, Thadeus,’ Kitty replied, taking up a seat in one of the comfy rockers on the porch beside the former actor.
Chevy Czinski leaned back, half-closed his eyes, and rocked back and forth several times before answering. ‘Teddy is a good boy.’ He sighed deeply. It was a long, tired and sorrowful sound. ‘A bit slow. But he has a good heart.’
He turned and looked Kitty in the eyes. ‘He would never have murdered Gretchen.’
‘You know about that?’ Kitty hadn’t expected Mr Czinski to be aware of Teddy’s current predicament and had been worrying herself sick over how to break the news. It appeared she had been worrying for nothing.
Chevy nodded glumly. ‘I received a telephone call a short time ago. The police are questioning Teddy now.’
‘Have they charged him with …’ she hesitated, ‘anything?’ She couldn’t bring herself to say the word murder to the young man’s own father.
Chevy said that they had not. ‘I’ve called a lawyer. He’s on his way down to the police station as we speak.’
‘I don’t believe he’s guilty either, Mr Czinski. That’s why I came to see you.’
He watched her expectantly.
‘You see, I’m trying to find out who killed Gretchen myself.’
‘You? Isn’t that a job better left to the police?’
Kitty gritted her teeth. That was exactly what Jack kept saying. ‘Yes, but don’t you see? Gretchen was very kind to me. She’d given me a fantastic opportunity.’ She paused, her voice dropping. ‘And she was murdered with one of my knives. I feel sort of responsible.’
‘Nonsense. It’s not your fault someone used one of your knives. If not yours, he or she,’ he said pointedly, ‘would have found another.’
‘I suppose.’
‘And now you want to know who might have wanted to see Gretchen dead?’ He smiled and placed his hands on his arthritic knees. ‘Like me, for instance?’
‘Well …’
Chevy rose with some effort. ‘Come, I want to show you something.’ Kitty followed the ex-actor into his log cabin to the den. ‘My past,’ he said, spreading his arms.
‘Wow,’ said Kitty, though she’d seen it all before when she and Fran had been poking around. Not that she was going to mention that now. She wasn’t sure how one of her clients would feel about her snooping around in their home uninvited, but she was pretty sure they wouldn’t be super happy about it.
The old man fondled a stuffed lion’s head lovingly. ‘Gretchen and I were married then.’ He pointed to a grainy photo of the two of them on safari. ‘We were quite the couple.’ He paused, as if embarrassed. ‘And quite in love.’
‘And then you had Teddy?’
‘Yes, and not long after, we were divorced.’ He slumped into a chair. ‘I’m not sure what happened to us. It was like a candle had gone out. I’m not certain either of us can explain why, but love turned to hate.’
Kitty felt a wave of sadness wash over her. ‘I’m sorry.’
He looked into Kitty’s eyes. ‘She stole the idea for the show from me, you know.’ He shook his head. ‘Gretchen was always very ambitious. She was ruthless. She’d do anything to get ahead.’
A sad smile worked its way across his face. ‘I’m afraid I never had much ambition. I suppose that was one of the things that drove us apart. You see,’ he said, slapping his knees, ‘I’m happy just being home, caring for my pets …’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Kitty. ‘What do you mean she stole the show from you?’
Chevy let her question hang in the air for a minute before replying. He gazed out the window while answering. ‘The Pampered Pet. Oh, the name of the show was different. But it was my show. I’d been telling her for years that CuisineTV ought to add a cooking show for pets to their line up.’
He laughed a self-deprecating laugh. ‘There was even a time when I thought I might host it myself.’ He turned to Kitty once again. ‘But who’d want to watch a washed up old Tarzan, eh?’
‘When did you find out? About the show, I mean.’
‘The day you came by and told me about your appointment. I have to confess, I was quite chuffed. I called Gretchen. We argued. I told her she had no right to steal my idea. I demanded my share of the profits. The show is potentially worth lots of money.’
‘I’m not greedy. It wasn’t for me.’ His gloomy eyes looked out over his pens. ‘It takes a great deal of money to care for these animals. They need me.’
‘What did Miss Corbett say?’
‘She hung up on me. I was so angry, I went down to the studio and demanded to see her. When I confronted her, she laughed in my face and ordered me to leave.’
Kitty stood motionless. Was he about to confess to murdering his ex-wife?
‘No, I didn’t stab her in the back. Though I suppose that would have been ironic, eh?’ In the distance, one of the lions snorted. ‘In the end, I simply left.’
‘Have you told the police all this? I didn’t see your name in the log that security keeps.’
He seemed surprised. ‘You wouldn’t. I hopped the fence. I knew Gretchen would never allow me on the lot.’ He straightened. ‘You might not think it to look at me, but these old bones can still perform a stunt or two,’ he said, with pride.
A stunt like murder? wondered Kitty.
‘What about the potholder?’
‘Potholder?’ He looked genuinely perplexed.
Kitty nodded. ‘I saw it in your kitchen the other day. It’s a souvenir CuisineTV potholder for The Pampered Pet TV show. They were distributed to everyone in the audience the day of the taping.’
‘I remember. Teddy brought it home.’
‘Teddy was here?’ Kitty remembered Jack saying that the young man had been missing for several days after the murder.
‘Yes, he stayed with me for a night or two after his mother’s death. He didn’t want to be alone. My son has a small apartment in Santa Monica. He was with me until this morning when he said he wanted to go back to work. I told him it was too soon, but he insisted. I think he simply needed something to do.’ He paused a moment, reflecting. ‘As do we all.’
Kitty’s eyes fell on the elephant tusk above a movie poster on the wall. She’d seen it earlier, when she was here with Fran. Now she remembered seeing a similar tusk in Gretchen’s condo.
Chevy noted her interest. ‘That’s from Bull. He was a remarkable animal.’
‘You have only the one tusk?’
‘Gretchen has the other. I’m not sure why, but she insisted on having it in the divorce. Perhaps simply to annoy me.’ His eyes sparkled. ‘Maybe I can get it back now.’
That raised an interested question. ‘Who inherits? Teddy?’
Chevy shrugged. ‘Teddy … and Cindy, I suppose.’
‘Is Cindy your and Gretchen’s daughter?’
He chuckled. ‘Oh, no. And thank goodness for that. She’s a handful and more. That girl ought to be penned up herself. From what I hear, she’s always spending like there’s no tomorrow.’
‘But why and who’s—’
The sound of a ringing phone interrupted her question. Mr Czinski raised a crooked finger, signaling Kitty to wait. She desperately wanted to know why Cindy was such a handful that Mr Czinski felt she deserved to be penned up. And just who was her father?
He fished in his trouser pocket and pulled out an old red flip phone. He muttered a few sentences, pocketed the phone and said to Kitty, ‘That’s Teddy’s lawyer. He would like me to come downtown now.’ He rose, using the chair’s arm to steady himself. ‘You understand.’
Kitty did.
She stopped for gas on her way back from Malibu and, while at the station, dialed Fran’s number. She answered on the first ring. The first thing that Fran wanted to know was where Kitty had been. After catching her new roommate up to speed, Kitty quizzed Fran abo
ut Gretchen’s mysterious daughter, Cindy.
‘What about her?’ asked Fran.
‘What can you tell me? What’s she like? What does she do?’
There was a pause at the other end of the line. ‘Not much. I’ve only seen her once or twice in the five years I’ve been working for Gretch. She didn’t come around the studio much. When she did, they usually fought like a couple of jealous cats.
‘And I don’t know that she does anything, besides shop, that is. Always came to the studio in some fancy red Mercedes sports coupe convertible.’
‘What about her father, have you met him? What’s he like? Did he get along with Gretchen? Would he have any reason to want to see her dead? Heavy alimony payments, maybe?’
Fran laughed through the phone. ‘Heck, girlfriend. I don’t know. That’s a lot of questions you’re throwing at me. Gretchen didn’t talk much about her exes. She barely spoke about her current boyfriends, let alone what she called her past tenses.’
Kitty asked Fran again if she thought Cindy’s father, Gretchen’s ex, might have some motive for wanting his former wife dead.
‘They were divorced. There was bound to be some acrimony. But I’m pretty sure that’s ancient history,’ Fran declared.
‘Maybe Cindy’s father is the mysterious Cam from the letters we found in Gretchen’s condo.’
Fran concurred. ‘But those letters didn’t look that old. Do you think maybe they had something going again?’
Kitty said she thought there might be a chance.
She could practically see Fran nodding her head in agreement as she said, ‘That would make sense. There was a time when Gretchen was acting all coy-like. And happy. But whenever I asked her why, she clammed up. Like I said, Gretchen didn’t like to talk much about her love life. Though she didn’t mind talking about her daughter’s. I know for a while there that she was pretty upset with some guy that Cindy was seeing.’
Kitty hopped back in the Volvo and started the engine. It was time to pay a visit to Cindy Corbett. Maybe she could provide some answers to this mystery. ‘Do you know how to get in touch with Cindy?’
‘I’ve got her number and her address in my phone. Gretchen often used me as a go-between. Like I said, they weren’t all that mothery-daughtery.’
