Cold Serial Murder

by Abramson, Mark

  “They sell kitchenware,” Leonardo shook his head at the turn of this conversation.

  “Like knives!” Ruth shouted.

  “What on earth could any of those things have to do with Theodore and me? We have plenty of kitchenware, but we’re not like those men who give in to their basic rutting instincts. We find those forms of physical expression distasteful, to say the least.”

  “Of course you do,” Ruth said, thinking that some of Theodore’s fundamentalist upbringing must have rubbed off on them both.

  “Our relationship is on a much higher plane than some men I know.” He looked around the room to find an example, but none of the waiters was nearby. “Why, our lovemaking is like a spiritual experience. It’s almost tantric! What does any of this have to do with my belt loop?”

  “Nothing, I’m afraid,” Ruth frowned. “Absolutely nothing and it doesn’t get us any closer to solving the murders, darn it! Now I’m not even sure Williams Sonoma was it, either. Where is Tim? He must be in the kitchen or I’d ask him right this minute.”

  “Did I overhear you two discussing honeymoons?” Viv was on her break and sat down at the bar to join their conversation. “I adore honeymoons. They’re better than marriages, any day of the week.”

  “You know, Vivian… I think I’ve heard my nephew Tim say the very same thing,” Ruth laughed, “but one of these days he’s going to settle down and be content because of it.”

  Leonardo said, “Before we were living together, I never realized how jealous and insecure Theodore could be. He accuses me of flirting with guys when I’m not even aware of them. It’s absolutely ridiculous!”

  “A little jealousy can be romantic,” Ruth said. “At least you know he’s still crazy about you, right?”

  Viv took a sip of the white wine spritzer Ruth had made for her, pulled out a compact and wiped the lipstick from her teeth with a cocktail napkin. “Honey, I know what you mean. My Roy is the most jealous man I’ve ever married. He told me once that he’d have to kill any man that tried anything with me.”

  “You don’t think he was serious, do you Viv?”

  “No, of course not, but can you imagine? Such a way to talk! And I’m always flirting with everybody,” Viv admitted, batting her false eyelashes. “After all, I’m in show business; it comes with the territory… and flirting? Well, that’s just my nature.”

  James, the new waiter was working out fine. Tim and Jake both agreed that he’d be a good addition to the place. He was bright, quick, and charming. Tim felt worn out by the time his last table cleared around 11 p.m. and he could hardly wait to go home. He was just about to say goodnight when Nick walked in the front door.

  “What a sight for sore eyes,” Tim said. “I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to drive down tonight, but I worked my ass off to finish a project in Napa today,” Nick said. ”Then I drove back to Monte Rio to shower and change and pack a few things for the weekend and here I am! I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you. I have the whole weekend free, but now that my grandmother lives in Alameda instead of just around the corner on Hancock Street, I don’t have a place to stay in the city anymore. I guess I’m homeless.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Tim put his arms around Nick and kissed him right in front of the whole crowd at Arts. “I have an idea for something you can do to earn your keep. Where’d you park?”

  “At your new place on Hancock Street.”

  “Well, we’re going around the corner in the opposite direction… to my old place, where my bed is. Come with me, stud!” Tim took Nick by the hand and opened the front door of Arts. “Good-night, Artie. Good-night, Aunt Ruth. See-ya, James. Jake, good-night!”

  Ruth stayed until closing time to help Artie. The bar was busy right up until last call. Even Viv stayed until the end, eyeing her overflowing tip jar and stuffing the larger bills into her bra. Roy Rodgers with a “d” came in about 1 a.m. to see if she was ready for a ride home. He sat at Artie’s end of the bar to wait and Ruth gave him a long hard look. She couldn’t imagine Roy killing anyone, but she was also glad that he no longer stared at her the way he did when they first met. Maybe she reminded him of someone he knew in the past.

  Chapter 20

  On Friday evening Nick had spent a half hour circling the Castro in search of parking before he gave up and pulled his truck in behind the Thunderbird in the driveway on Hancock Street. Tim had already planned to take Saturday off to spend time with Nick and Artie agreed. He thought it would be nice to give James, the new waiter, a chance to jump in feet first.

  Tim also wanted to spend some time at the house he inherited from Jason. He and Nick walked over from Collingwood after a late breakfast. Tim spent most of the afternoon sorting through Jason’s belongings. He wanted to keep a few pictures to remember his ex-boyfriend, but there were more things that he would sell or donate to the Community Thrift store.

  “I think you and Jason were pretty close to the same size,” he said to Nick. “His clothes are all too big for me, but if there’s anything you’d like…”

  “I’ve never owned much leather,” Nick said, lifting Jason’s chaps out of the closet and holding them up to his waist. “Do you think it suits me?”

  “Go ahead and try them on, but don’t blame me if I get all turned on and have to ravage you. We might not get another lick of work done today.”

  Nick zipped up Jason’s chaps and Tim went into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers. When he came back, Nick was pulling on a pair of Jason’s boots that fit him perfectly. Tim peeled off his own sweaty T-shirt and before he knew it they were on top of Jason’s bed and Tim was naked. He was also more turned on than ever. It had been months since he’d had sex in this bed and when he looked up at Nick all thoughts of Jason slipped from his mind.

  Afterward, Tim said, “That was more like what I meant when I mentioned you earning your keep, not helping me sort through Jason’s belongings.”

  “I don’t mind… either way.”

  “Well, I appreciate not having to go through this stuff alone.” He still hadn’t told Nick about Jason appearing to him in a dream the other day. Now he wasn’t sure whether he ever would. “I’m getting hungry, Nick. How about you?”

  “Sure. How about if I go grab us something to eat and bring it back here?” Nick offered. “I could pick up some sushi. Or pizza. Or would you rather go out to eat?”

  “I could eat anything,” Tim said, turning the water on in the bathroom and plugging the drain, “but let’s stay in. Surprise me. I’m going to have a soak in the tub until you get back. I think what this place needs is a Jacuzzi hot tub and new decks upstairs and down and definitely a new paint job and a vegetable garden…”

  “I could help you with the garden,” Nick said, “and I’ll enjoy the hot tub with you… but all in good time. What’s the rush? You have a bath and I’ll be back with dinner before you know it.”

  Teresa was also taking a bath. She was lounging in the tub in her top floor apartment on Collingwood Street when the telephone rang. Like Tim, she was no fan of cell phones, but she had grown so fond of long baths since her divorce that she’d had a phone installed in the bathroom. She answered, “Back-stage, Big Al’s!”

  It was her downstairs neighbor Ben. “Teresa, are you busy? I need a huge favor.”

  “Sure, Ben, what is it?”

  “Jane is going into labor. She’s early or we would have made better plans. I’ve got to drive her to the hospital and nobody else in the building is home. They must all be at work or something. Can you watch Sarah for a few hours?”

  “Sure, hon. Bring her on up. My door’s always open. I’d love to keep an eye on the little one for you. I’m just having a bath, but I’m not planning to go anywhere tonight.”

  Teresa took several more minutes to soak in the tub, but the water was starting to cool down now anyway. By the time she finished blow-drying her hair she had forgotten
all about Ben’s phone call. She came out of the bathroom tying her terrycloth robe and noticed that her apartment door was not only unlocked, but standing wide open. She suddenly remembered the phone call about the little girl and yelled out, “Sarah? Where are you, sweetheart?”

  There was not a sound. Teresa spotted an open coloring book and a box of crayons on her kitchen table. She grabbed her keys and ran barefoot down the stairs, still calling, “Sarah… where are you?” all the way down to the gate. There was no one on the sidewalk, either. She climbed back up the stairs to the second floor, heard music playing and knocked on Marcia’s door. “Hey, Marcia… have you seen little Sarah lately?”

  “No, but I just got home a few minutes ago. There was a sale at Neiman Marcus and I’ve been out shopping most of the afternoon. Why do you ask?”

  “Ben called and said Jane was going into labor. I was in the tub. You didn’t see anyone else in the building, did you?” Teresa asked.

  “Yeah, there was some guy on the sidewalk trying to see into the window of Tim’s apartment, said he was looking for him. I told him if Tim wasn’t home or at work he must be over on Hancock Street. I heard he’s moving to his old boyfriend’s place, the one that got killed.”

  “What did this guy look like?”

  “Tall, older, a decent looking guy. He seemed nice enough. I was just getting out of a cab with all my packages and he offered to help me carry them upstairs. I couldn’t have made it all in one trip and the cab driver was no help. I figured if he was a friend of Tim’s he must be all right. What about Sarah?”

  “When Ben called I was in the tub and I completely forgot that he said he was bringing Sarah upstairs for me to keep an eye her on while he took Jane to the hospital. It looks like she’s having the baby early. Now Sarah’s missing and I’m really worried. You didn’t catch this tall fella’s name, did you?”

  “No, sorry. I gather that Tim sometimes likes older guys, but this one looked a lot older… to be Tim’s date, I mean… he had to be twice Tim’s age. He was kinda charming, though. He had on a cowboy hat and boots, but he would have been over six feet tall even without them.”

  “Oh, now I don’t know what I should do. Maybe Sarah fussed so much about being left behind that they changed their minds and took her along to the hospital. I sure hope so.”

  “They must have,” Marcia tried to reassure her as Teresa climbed the rest of the stairs to her own apartment. They both felt uneasy about what was going on. Teresa felt guilty that she’d agreed to watch the little girl and now she couldn’t find her. Marcia felt even worse for letting a stranger into their building and not seeing him leave again. If the safety of their building was invaded, she would feel responsible for letting it happen.

  The Saturday dinner shift at Arts was starting out slow and from the meager list of reservations, it didn’t look like it was going to get much better. Artie was sitting at the bar eating a plate of Arturo’s famous chicken-fried steak smothered in gravy—one of his favorite specials—while Ruth handled the bar. Viv had nearly finished her version of a medley of Beatles tunes that ended her first set. No one was sitting around the piano or singing along. Ruth found herself absentmindedly humming Hey Jude and staring across the room at her. Viv was dressed all in yellow tonight. She wore mustard-colored slacks and a pale yellow lace-up blouse that Viv had attempted to cinch in at the waist to accent her already abundant cleavage. It had short lacy sleeves.

  “Bo Peep,” Ruth said under her breath. That’s where I’ve seen that blouse before. It was the top of Viv’s costume from last Halloween. She added a blue skirt and a floppy suede hat and that long staff for herding her lost sheep. That’s where I saw the riding crop, too. It was in a picture of Vivian and Jason that someone took right here at Arts that night when Jason was dressed in all his leather. It was one of the photographs I pinned to the bulletin board the morning of Jason’s memorial gathering. Jason was holding the riding crop, pretending to threaten Viv with it. They were posing that way for the camera.

  Ruth had Viv’s white wine spritzer ready for her when she sat down at the bar for her break. Viv complained, “Isn’t this something? Some nights you can barely get in the door and tonight I haven’t even made five bucks in tips so far. That’s just the nature of the business, I guess.”

  Ruth said, “Viv, I couldn’t help noticing your blouse and it reminded me of something I saw at the memorial for Jason. Did you happen to see that photograph of you and him together? I guess it was taken on Halloween when he was all dressed up in his black leather outfit with that whip-thing in his hand?”

  “Oh, yes! Jason looked so big and mean and scary and I was just cowering there in my ‘Little Bo Peep’ costume. That was the cutest picture,” Viv said. “Arturo snapped it. I must have asked him a thousand times if he would get me a copy, but he kept forgetting. I’ve been bugging him about it for months and I told him when my birthday came around that I was still waiting for it. He felt so bad about forgetting that he finally had it blown up and framed for me as a birthday present. I brought it home and hung it up in the hallway in my house just a couple of nights before poor Jason was killed. You should see all the photographs I have in the hallway. It’s a regular gallery of pictures of me with everyone famous who’s ever sung along at my piano and some not so famous, but just people who like me... my fans, you know. Sometimes tourists want to have their picture taken with me and they’ll send me a copy when they get home to wherever it is they came from. I hardly remember some of them…”

  “Viv,” Ruth interrupted. “I remember the picture. And I’d really love to see your house sometime, but…”

  “I’ve never seen your house either,” Artie piped up. “In all this time you’ve worked for us, we’ve never gotten around to seeing where you live. I guess with our busy schedules here, that isn’t surprising.”

  “Maybe we’ll have a little party when Roy is finished with the remodeling and have everyone come out all at once. We could have a barbecue in the back yard, but not during the foggy season. We should wait until it’s…”

  “But Viv… I was just trying to figure out something else, too. Have you and Roy ordered any pizza lately? You know… for delivery?”

  “Why, yes… it was the day Roy finished painting the kitchen. How did you know? I’m not much of a cook, anyway. My last husband Walter was a chef, but Roy practically lives on take-out food and Stouffer’s microwave dinners on the nights I’m at Arts, since I get a meal here at work before I start my shift. He’s not hard to please when it comes to food. Half the time he’ll just fix himself a bowl of cold cereal and call that his dinner. No wonder he never gets fat. I sure didn’t feel like cooking at home that night with those paint fumes in the kitchen, so we ordered a pizza.” Viv paused to think for a moment.

  “I used to love pizza,” Artie said,” but it doesn’t love me!”

  Ruth glared at Artie and silently willed him to stop interrupting, but she didn’t want Viv to suspect anything and stop talking. “So you ordered a pizza that night?”

  “That’s right,” Viv went on. “And now I remember the darling boy who brought it, too. He had the cutest accent and I was practicing my French with him while Roy went to look for his wallet in the other room. I only know a few phrases. My first husband took me to Paris on our honeymoon.”

  “Did Roy pay the boy himself?” Ruth asked.

  “Why, no…” Viv took a sip of her white wine spritzer and thought hard to remember. “He practically threw his wallet at me and mumbled something or other like he was furious at me for no reason at all! I don’t know what sets him off sometimes. His wallet fell off the coffee table and landed on the floor with the money falling out. Then he stormed off in a huff.”

  “He left the house?”

  “Yes, well he went as far as the garage, anyway. I didn’t hear the car start up until a little while later, though; right after the pizza delivery boy had gone.”

  “Roy drove away in the Cadillac?”

&nb
sp; “Yes, I thought about it later and all I could imagine was that Roy got mad at me for flirting with the French boy. I heard the garage door open and the Cadillac revving up and then he just took off with the tires squealing, laying rubber on the street. I meant to scold him about it later… what would the neighbors think? Our block is pretty quiet nowadays. There was a problem a while back when my next-door neighbor’s teenage boy got mixed up with one of those Chinese gangs, but he’s off in the juvenile system now and things are back to normal. We don’t take kindly to noise. There are a lot of retired people on our block.”

  Ruth was ready to scream. “But Viv… about that night when Roy took off…”

  “Oh, that. I kinda forgot all about it all until later. By the time Roy came home I’d had all the pizza I wanted, anyway and I was half asleep in bed with the TV on. I left the pizza out on the kitchen table for him, but it was cold by then. I told him he could eat cold pizza or he could heat it up. I didn’t care. There was someone I wanted to see on The Tonight Show that night, but I’d slept right through that part and missed it. I know, it was Kathy Bates. I’ve always liked her ever since she won the Oscar for Misery, you know. I think I went to see that with my fourth husband Sid, but I never did read the book. I meant to, but Stephen King’s books are so darned long, you know. Why does he have to waste thirty pages getting to the next minute of the story? I get impatient!”

  “Viv, you didn’t ever happen to have any interaction with Arturo’s nephew Jorge… did you?” Ruth asked as pieces of the puzzle fell into place in her mind. She was trying to change the direction of conversation, but at the same time keep Viv talking. “I mean… outside of working here together?”

  “The busboy?” Viv asked. “Why, no, I didn’t even think the kid spoke English, not up until that one night.”

  “Which night was that?”

  “It was shortly after Jason died. I was coming down with the worst cold and it was such a slow night anyway… not much busier than this one. Arturo asked the boy to take Arturo’s car and give me a ride home. Did you know Jorge, Ruth?”