With Michael dead, Charles made it his goal to continue the investigation that he had started. He worked hard to find other people of interest, and he was desperate to take out anyone who wronged others.
The question at this point was to figure out who could have been responsible, but the choices were running low. While he was happy to get rid of the illegal immigrants at the hotel in order to clear out a series of suspects, he was concerned over what was going on.
Then, he began to think about what was happening at the restaurant. It’s clear that someone had targeted Michael at the restaurant. That same person was willing to take some people out at the same time. This person, who was killing everyone, seemed to be very adamant about keeping his or her identity covered and was willing even to take out figures of authority just to keep things from being worse than they had to be.
Carla had finally returned to the Blue Plate the day before the cyanide murders. Sandra had finally convinced her to return, and since she hadn’t gotten any other job offers, she had agreed to return and work her normal shift. The rent had to be paid after all.
Instead, she stayed home the day after the cyanide plot was confirmed. She told Sandra that she was ill with a cold. However, the real reason for this was to avoid the ongoing suspicion that she did something. After all, the first person who was going to be contacted about something that happened in a restaurant is the head chef and especially if that chef is a recovering junkie, right?
She never bothered to share information about how she was looking for a job elsewhere. She just thought that if she kept on looking for a job someplace else that she wouldn’t be in trouble. After all, it’s not like anyone would miss her. She always felt that no matter what she was doing, no one at the Paradise would take her seriously anymore. Going somewhere else to work would certainly do wonders for her and her life.
However, Charles came over to her home anyway to get a look at what was really going on.
“Ms. D’Angelo, please open this door.”
No answer.
“Ms. D’Angelo, this is Charles Henderson of the Columbus Police Department, I am requesting to speak with you. If you don’t respond then I will be forced to open this door under an alternative-”
“WHAT?” Carla yelled. “You wanna arrest me, go ahead. I know what you’re thinking.”
“Madam, that’s not what I want to do,” Charles said. “I am not here to arrest anyone. I do want to talk with you about what was going on with the restaurant yesterday.”
“I don’t even work at the bar. Troy was working the bar yesterday; I was busy in the back of the kitchen. I didn’t even get in touch with any customers yesterday.”
“So you’re saying that you had nothing to do with the death of Michael Young?”
“He died?” Carla couldn’t believe it. Michael Young was just that—young.
“Carla, open the door so I can ask my questions and then I’ll be gone.”
Charles finally gained entrance to the room after a bit of coercion. Carla then started to talk with Charles about her life. “Listen, officer or whatever, I don’t think anyone understands my story and what’s going on with me,” Carla said. “Do you realize what I’ve done with my life?”
Carla went on to explain how she thought she was invincible when younger, how she ended up in jail.
Charles reassured her. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
*****
Charles then went back to the hotel. He talked with Troy Murphy, the bartender who worked at the restaurant bar.
Troy Murphy was not someone who was ever considered to be a suspect because he only worked at the bar on weekends. He was forced to come in to work on a few weekdays in the last week after the previous bartender resigned out of fear of everything that was happening.
Troy was not fully aware of what was going on with Carla or even half the things that were happening at the hotel. After all, this was only a secondary job; he was a freelance writer who was making decent money with his writing. He took this job to ensure he had some regular income, and also as a way of getting a break from writing.
“I served Mr. Young a Red Bull and vodka most days when he was here during my work shift,” he said. “It seemed to be his drink of choice. Apparently, I didn’t know that was him until just now. I thought he was a guy who had a reservation with us and decided to stay around even with what’s going on.”
“I never talked with Carla yesterday but I did talk with Bruce. In fact, he was hanging out near the door to the bar for a bit before the show.”
“Come to think of it, I’ve not seen Carla in here for almost a month. I don’t know what’s going on with her, she’s usually a pretty nice gal, and I’ve never heard anything bad about her.”
That’s when it hit him. Bruce was spending quite a bit of his free time at the hotel. If he’s hanging out there then what’s happening?
Charles then called at the music store.
Chapter 30
Michael’s vehicle was examined along with his body after the wreck. There was a full review of all the things going on in the vehicle, to determine if there was something that could have caused the vehicle to malfunction.
The wreckage was reviewed based on what could have been found. It turned out that there was no real problem with the vehicle. The engine was working fine, no brake lines were cut, and the tires seemed to work just fine as they were.
Therefore, the police department came to the realization that there was nothing wrong with the car. They decided that the accident had been the result of the driver’s reaction to being poisoned.
*****
Tina had worked out that she hadn’t looked into the room that the first murder happened. She felt sure there was some clue she missed out.
There was the empty bath and the cabinet. She remembered she looked for a cupboard.
Cupboard? That was what was wrong! Every bathroom had a cupboard that contained the boiler!
Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Why hadn’t the police seen it? It was very remiss of all of them.
*****
When Charles looked at what was happening at the hotel, he figured that maybe the local music store had a hint. If the sports equipment store came up with nothing then certainly the music store might. After all, Bruce would have been there a few times to get stuff.
Still, he knew there was no way he could ever trust anyone at the hotel. While he felt that Bruce was careful and calm about what was happening, Charles felt that he could still be a suspicious figure in this case.
Meanwhile, his talk with Carla helped him out quite a bit but he still didn’t want to take her name off the table. He knew there was always the potential that the person who did something was the one person that no one expected. It’s not so much an issue of what might happen as it is an issue of how dangerous someone in particular could be.
*****
The Bent Note was a popular place for music performers in the Columbus area. Located about four blocks west of the hotel, it had been in operation since 1946. Established by a man who had returned home from war, he felt that he should help people in the new post-war world to play instruments, just like he did.
The store had gone through a number of different changes over the years. As rock music became popular, so did the Bent Note. As hip hop became noteworthy, the Bent Note started to add turntables. When country music got into a renaissance in the 1980s, he started to stock up on slide guitars and acoustic instruments. Today rock, country, and hip-hop performers alike, have all trusted in the Bent Note for their equipment needs.
However, the place was struggling over the years as the music scene was wearing out. The many music halls around the city hadn’t been getting as many people to their shows as they used to get.
Charles talked with Jake Kim, the owner of the store. He talked about what was going on with the store. “I’ve talked with Bruce a few times,” Jake said. “He’s a real nice guy, he kinda wishes this place
was a little nicer but he’s still a good fella.”
“When did you last get in touch with him?”
“Two days ago.”
He then took a look at the security footage at the store; the security camera recorded files of people who came in and out each week and would replace old files every week in order to preserve hard disk data and also because the old information wouldn’t be worth much anymore after a while.
“So, Jake, how’s business been anyway? I know the music scene’s been really tough these days. I mean, no one’s buying albums anymore and everyone’s just making music on their computers.”
“Well, we have been going through some phases here and there. Most of the stuff we’ve sold was just accessories.”
When Jake said that, he felt resigned over the status of the store. He was afraid of what was going on with the store and whether or not it could survive this change or the way the place does business.
“I think that our accessory business is working well,” he continued. “We’ve sold lots of blank discs for media recording purposes. There’s clearly a scene out there.
“We’ve had some finicky customers as well. There’s one guy who came in here a few days ago to return some guitar strings that he said didn’t work. They kept breaking on him. He has shown up a few times but not as often as he used to a few weeks ago. It’s always the same brand and style for him.”
“So some guy keeps on coming in to return guitar strings? You’d think that if one brand is not working well for him, he’d switch to a different one, right? Or maybe he needs to go to a different store to buy them,” Charles said.
That’s when it hit Charles—if this guy keeps on replacing old guitar strings then what is he doing? He suddenly thought about something—they say that people can kill others with piano wires. What about guitar strings? They’re practically the same thing.
“Jake, I need to see your security tapes again.”
The last time that the person had returned strings was a day after the last in-room death at the hotel. Charles then went back into the security room and fast-forwarded through the footage of the day when the person last returned guitar strings.
He found the person who returned the strings to get new ones. However, he noticed an interesting point about the person in the video. He then compared the video to the one of Bruce earlier that week.
He noticed a few interesting similarities. While the person who returned strings had blonde hair, Bruce had brown hair. However, the hair appeared to be of the same length.
Also, he noticed a similarity in height between the two people. They also appeared to be of the same build. In addition, while the man returning the strings had glasses, Bruce did not. Still, their noses appeared to have the same appearances. In addition, the glasses that were worn by the guy returning strings were clearly reading glasses that could be easily picked up at a local drugstore without a prescription.
“Wait a second.” Charles’s internal radar was screaming. “What can you tell me about the overall sales at your store?”
“I already told you, we are selling more accessories than actual musical parts,” Jake replied.
“No, I want to be a little more specific,” Charles answered. “What I mean is, what can you tell me about the sales of some of these products? Specifically, do you have records on how many guitar strings people are buying?”
“Well, the only person who has actually bought guitar strings is the guy that you’re talking about.”
He then began to put two and two together. “Holy shit, I gotta go.” Charles quickly exited the store. He had no desire to talk with Jake and had a strong feeling that something was amiss.
Chapter 31
“Mr. Andrews is off today and it’s unclear as to when he’ll even be playing here again,” Sandra told Charles. “We have lost so much business at this point that we have no idea what’s going to happen.”
“So where can I find him today?”
“Well, he does go to the Friendly Cup coffee house on Thursday nights. He’s been doing that almost every Thursday for the past two years.”
Charles thanked her for giving him this information and was already halfway to the door when Sandra’s voice stopped him
“By the way,” Sandra asked, “What you are going to do? Are you going to ask him if he saw something? I bet whatever you want to talk with him about must be very important.”
“It absolutely is,” Charles responded.
“Well, whatever is going on, you had better find an answer for what’s happening. We’re getting very close to losing more money than we can afford to and the last thing we want is to go out of business, especially with us being in as much pain as we have been lately.”
Charles nodded, “I’m aware of that. Hopefully, Mr. Andrews will be able to help move this investigation along a little faster.
*****
As Charles arrived at the Friendly Cup, he found Bruce just getting ready to get into his car and leave. Charles came up to Bruce’s small hybrid vehicle and talked with him about the case.
“Mr. Andrews, my name is Charles Henderson of the Columbus Police Department.”
Charles had already met with Bruce a few days earlier. However, he feigned ignorance of that fact simply because he was so adamant about trying to change things in this case. He was all business as he felt that something was going on.
“Uh, hi…nice to see you again, but I really got to go,” Bruce responded.
“Wait,” Charles replied. He knew that the hesitant response that Bruce made was clearly a sign of something. Perhaps it was a sign of his fear.
He always noticed that feeling whenever people who are guilty try to get away—they’re always hesitant over what’s happening. They don’t want to talk about things but they’re being forced into them anyway.
“Please, sir, I really need to go.”
“With a voice like that, it makes you sound like you’re in a hurry.”
“That’s because I am.”
Charles then got serious. “Maybe those guitar strings will break—maybe you’ll try to find a way to keep it clean.”
“What are you …talking about?” Bruce got extremely nervous.
Charles then knew what was going on with him. He soon decided to take a huge gamble.
“Bruce Andrews, I am placing you under arrest for a series of deaths that took place at the Paradise Hotel over the past month.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t …,” Bruce stammered.
Charles then cuffed him, read him his rights, and forced him into a police car that was hidden only a block away from the café.
*****
As he entered the room, Charles started to take a careful look at Bruce’s face. He was behind a two-way mirror and noticed that Bruce was starting to look dejected. He felt as though it was a silent confession.
“Sir,” Bruce said. “What are you doing?”
A fellow police officer came over to talk with him. “Well, we have evidence that suggests that you might know something about the deaths of the people who were at the hotel you work.”
Bruce then thought about what he was getting into. The cold, lifeless interrogation room with nothing but a mirror and a speaker, was lonely. He knew that if there were plenty of information on him then maybe it would be a simple case.
Maybe it was the soulless and plain feeling of the place he was in that gave him that despair. It made him feel as though something was going to happen and that no matter what he was going to do, nothing could be done to fix it.
*****
As Bruce sat in the interrogation room, he began to think about the situation on his own terms.
What was going on with this whole thing? Why is it happening when so many things have gone down and no one is thinking about who could be totally responsible for it all?
“How am I going to fix this,” he thought to himself.
“Sir, I’d like to have a word with you on how all this went d
own.”
Charles took a quick note of what was happening. He then asked to walk into the interrogation room so he could talk with him. Another officer followed him into the room to make sure nothing wrong would happen.
However, part of this was to try to ensure that Charles wouldn’t beat him to death in anger. Charles had thought for a moment that Bruce was a very good person to deal with. So why do I now think different? What signals was he giving off? Charles wasn’t sure.
As Charles Henderson entered the room, Bruce was ready to talk with him.
“Sir, you just fucked this place over big time,” Charles said. “Hell, I don’t think that I should even call you ‘Sir’ in the first place, as you’re clearly not dignified enough to actually be referred to by such a title.”
“Well maybe if you saw things my way!”
“Your way? If anything, it’s probably some psychotic way, like you were off your schizo meds. So, if you are ready to say that you are responsible for all this, please talk to me. I want to know everything about what’s going on with you and why you went out and threw your life away.”
Charles continued. “So tell me, if you are really the person who killed all thirteen of those people, then why don’t you talk with me about it?”
Bruce was feeling nervous but at the same time, he came to the sudden realization that there was no way for him to get out of this. “Well …,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Well, yes, I did do all that.”
“So if you say that then why don’t you talk to me about this? I’m sure that if you hijacked the hotel and caused the livelihoods of so many people to be placed in jeopardy, then surely you have a good reason as to why you did it all. Go ahead, talk to me.”
Bruce then started to talk. “Well, there are several steps for getting into these rooms. I recall the first time I did it …”
Sudden Vacancies Page 9
