by Edie Claire
Maura smiled slightly, but didn't respond. Sergeant Leuthold jumped back in. "What you looking for, Detective?"
Frank hesitated slightly before answering. "Miss Koslow's been arrested for murder, and her boyfriend's under arrest up in Butler for another one. An anonymous tipster would have us believe that Miss Koslow was involved in both." He stole a sideways glance at Maura before finishing. "But you know how it is with anonymous tipsters. Sometimes they have their own agenda."
***
Exhausted, but driven by anxiety, Leigh took the steps to her apartment two at a time. It had been an excruciatingly long night. Mary Polanski was worse—much worse. Her lucid periods had become few and far between, and she had a hard time remembering where the bathroom was, much less who Leigh was and what she was doing there. Mary had always been a fascinating woman to talk to, but now her dialogue simply repeated itself on a five-minute cycle. By 3:00 AM, Leigh had become a master at derailing the topic train and switching it to a new track, but the effort was taxing. Mary had tried to go outside for a walk at least twice every hour, and had only slept briefly between 4:00 and 6:00 AM. Leigh slept even less, and at 7:30 AM had wearily relinquished her duties to Maura's Aunt Judith.
The experience had left her with a strong sense of duty where her friend's family was concerned. They all had to face facts. Maura and her elderly aunts simply could not keep this up—it would destroy their health, and it was only going to get worse. They would either have to hire live-in help, or investigate an Alzheimer's care home. Left to her own sense of loyalty and responsibility, Maura would care for her mother until she dropped—literally. Somehow Leigh had to convince Maura that her own needs mattered, too.
She had headed for the Avalon Police Station with hopes of launching into the needed discussion right away, but was hit head-on with another disturbing revelation. According to the desk clerk, Maura was late for work because the apartment she'd been staying in had been broken into.
Peachy.
Leigh leapt up the last flight of stairs and jogged to her door, which she jerked open while still in motion. She skidded to a halt and burst in on a sea of uniforms. "Maura!" she called out breathlessly. "Are you all right? What happened?"
"I'm fine, Koslow," Maura answered.
The only non-uniform in the room turned to look at Leigh. Her face fell. All she needed now was her number-one nemesis.
"Good morning, Miss Koslow," Frank said with a smile. "We were wondering when you'd show up."
Leigh rankled at his obvious sarcasm, and returned in kind. "It appears I wasn't invited to the party. Rather rude, don't you think?"
Frank's upper lip lifted enough to show teeth—but only on one side. "Officer Polanski here says you spent the night at her house in Avalon. That true?"
Leigh nodded.
Sergeant Leuthold stepped forward and introduced himself. "Could you tell us if anything is missing?" he asked politely.
Eager to show Frank how cooperative she was with officials who had social skills, Leigh jumped to the task. She examined the apartment from head to toe, and honestly could not see where anything had been disturbed, much less taken.
Frank, who had hovered over her like a vulture the entire time, seemed to be getting impatient. "Check your tools and cutlery. Anything you have that might be used as a weapon."
Leigh hadn't a clue what he was driving at, but continued with the good-girl act and reasoned that the only potential weapons she owned were her kitchen knives and her scissors. She looked at them again—all seemed present and accounted for.
Frank gave her a tired, frustrated glance, and instructed another officer to produce a zippered bag. "Have you ever seen this item before, Miss Koslow?"
Leigh peered through the plastic at a nasty-looking knife with a long, serrated blade seated in a brown plastic handle. The blade was spotted with a dry, reddish-brown residue, and she recoiled instinctively. "No," she said firmly. "I don't think I've ever seen that particular knife before. It certainly isn't mine."
Frank exhaled loudly and ran fingers through his remaining hair. "You'll have to wait outside until these men finish up," he barked, then abruptly left the apartment.
Leigh walked quickly to Maura's side. "What the hell was that? And why is he even here? Doesn't he have enough false evidence against me?"
Maura shook her head purposefully and led Leigh out into the hall. Frank was nowhere to be seen. "Watch what you say around these guys," she chastised.
"Fine. Answer me!" Leigh insisted. Agitated as she was, she couldn't help but be encouraged by the lights in the back of Maura's eyes.
"This may not be such a bad thing after all," Maura began in a whisper. "I'm not sure, but it looks like somebody just made a big mistake. And it looks like you got a hell of a break."
Leigh's own eyes lit up. She didn't understand anything that was happening, but a break sounded good. "What?"
"I'm just guessing, but here's my take. Someone broke in to leave you a gift, then phoned the police to make sure they knew you had it."
"Had what?" Leigh demanded loudly.
Maura put her finger to her mouth, then answered in another whisper. "The knife that killed Stacey Tanner."
Chapter 17
Leigh realized her mouth was open, and shut it. "The knife that killed Stacey Tanner? I thought she was shot."
"Did Tanner tell you that?" Maura asked.
"No. I mean, he might have said something about it when Katharine and I talked to him, but I don't remember specifically. I guess I just assumed."
"Based on what?"
Leigh shrugged. "There was blood coming from her back, but no knife sticking out—no weapon anywhere. I just figured she'd been shot from a distance and that the killer had left with the gun. It did happen on hunting land, you know."
"The killer couldn't have left with a knife?"
Leigh exhaled. "I suppose so, I just never really thought about it. What does it matter?"
Maura still looked relatively happy. "It might matter to your defense—and Tanner's. If your statements showed you thought the victim was shot when in fact she was stabbed, it supports your innocence."
Leigh smiled. All hail ignorance.
***
When Katharine Bower called Leigh to her office at noon, she had several new stacks of paper with which to torture her client. Though one would think that even minute details of one's own murder case would manage to intrigue, Katharine's lengthy discourses left Leigh wishing for a pillow. Leigh wanted to talk about the planted knife, but Katharine was too methodical for that. They progressed in an ordered manner—and ad nauseum—through various items, actions, and motions before Stacey Tanner's murder was mentioned. When the subject did come up, it took a moment for Leigh to rouse to full consciousness.
"Did you say that Tanner's out?" she asked incredulously. "As of when?"
Katharine looked at Leigh over the top of her glasses, lips pursed. Though it was none of Katharine's business who Leigh did and did not want to see, Leigh clarified her intentions. "I'm not involved with him, if you care. That's over. I just wondered how he got out so quick, that's all."
Katharine did not appear convinced. "Quick? He was in two nights. You were in about five minutes, as you recall. He was released on bail Monday afternoon, and he now has a private attorney."
"Where did he get the money?" Leigh said without thinking.
Katharine looked at her impatiently. "I'm your lawyer, not Tanner's accountant. Besides, what does it matter? You're not involved with him anymore, remember?"
Leigh's mind drifted. Tanner was out. Tanner who kept insisting he had no money. Had this mysterious brother in Alabama come through, or was that a lie too? He hadn't come to see her—evidently his life was now too complicated for the employee-of-the-month game. Had Leo fired him as well? If not, was he back at the zoo now? Where had he been last night?
"Leigh!" Katharine commanded.
"What?"
"Can you please pay atten
tion? I was telling you that I met with Tanner's lawyer this morning. He's green, but I think he's competent. And he was willing to share information about Stacey's murder. An eye witness confirmed your passing and return on Barber Road, and the timing was such that you couldn't possibly have been at the cabin more than a minute or two. Another plus: the medical examiner's report placed the time of Stacey's death at least one hour before you got there."
"Then Tanner should be off the hook, too," Leigh said hopefully.
"Why? You don't know when he got there, do you?"
She thought about it. She assumed he had arrived just before she did, but she didn't know that for a fact. "No," she answered glumly.
Katharine's attention turned back to the report.
"Stacey was stabbed once in the upper back. The blade penetrated the left lung and nicked the left pulmonary artery, causing massive hemorrhage and death within minutes. Yet in your statement you used the word 'shot.' Excellent. Ignorance is bliss. Tanner wasn't so lucky. He seemed to know she was stabbed, even though no murder weapon was found near the body."
Leigh swallowed. Whoever killed Stacey must have taken the knife with them. Why? Had they known they would be framing someone?
"Leigh," Katharine said seriously, taking off her glasses. "What the appearance of the knife in your apartment means is that you are no longer merely a victim of circumstances. You are being deliberately set up."
A chill crept down Leigh's back and didn't fizzle until it reached her socks. The concept was no surprise, but hearing Katharine say it brought the facts into alarming focus.
"Dena Johnson's statement about seeing you at the tiger run the night Carmen was murdered may be part of the plan, and it may not. Either way, this woman knows something. Unfortunately, she has repeatedly refused to meet with me, and has said in no uncertain terms that she does not want to see you. I talked with Maura Polanski shortly before you came in—she's going to see what she can get out of Dena this afternoon. Let's keep our fingers crossed."
Maura confronting Dena? Leigh couldn't quite picture it. Maura without her uniform was a fish out of water. But then, one never knew what Maura Polanski was capable of.
"If you'd been in your own apartment last night," Katharine continued soberly, "you might very well be back in the county jail today. Your friend's quick thinking is a big boon to our case. I talked to Frank this morning, and although he wouldn't admit it to me, I could tell he thinks the knife business was a frame job."
Katharine leaned forward at her desk. "As I said, I'm working on a pretrial motion to have the charges against you dropped. If our luck holds with these pathetic framing efforts, I think we've got a shot."
Leigh smiled broadly. So, there was light in the tunnel after all.
***
Maura walked up the hill past goat mountain, trying to remember where the bird house was. It had been years since her last visit to the Riverview Park Zoo. A sign soon guided her in the right direction, and she picked up her pace. She was tired, but thanks to last night's sleepover, not exhausted. And thankfully, she had two days off before starting the night shift again.
She was dressed in street clothes, since her role as private investigator forbade her to act as a cop. Her task, according to Katharine, was to find out why Dena Johnson had lied about seeing Leigh the night of the murder. Not an impossible task, given an ordinary police interrogation. A tremendously complicated one, given no real authority and a moral dilemma about lying.
She recognized the bird house when it came into sight, and decided that it hadn't changed much. It was still a relatively plain, concrete-block building with glass skylights, connected by screened walkways to a large outdoor aviary. Several women with strollers were heading through the main door into the building, and Maura tagged along after them.
Being inconspicuous was a challenge, which was one more reason she preferred police work over the private sector. As a cop, her physique was a definite plus. As a private investigator, it was a disaster waiting to happen.
She toured the building slowly, walking patiently behind the women as they pointed out brightly colored birds to their assortment of infants and toddlers. Maura looked too, but not at the birds so much as the building's layout. She knew that Dena worked here, along with another keeper named Tonya. So where did the staff hang out?
The path spiraled through the building in a lazy S, terminating in the entrance to the outdoor aviary. As the women and strollers plowed on, Maura peeled off from the group and slipped out an unlocked screened door marked "Employees Only." The staff area was clearly at the rear left of the building, and probably had its own outside entrance.
She skirted around the bird house's back corner, and much to her delight found the expected door standing open several inches. Hearing voices, she moved closer quietly.
"I couldn't believe they had the nerve to charge six dollars for parking!" a female voice complained. "And nothing but a mud field! Like tickets don't cost enough already, you know?"
Another female voice agreed. "Tell me about it. Last concert I went to, we were stuck in the parking lot for two hours trying to get back on the highway!"
"Crazy," the first voice said. "That place needs paved or something. You know, with lanes and all."
Her strategy decided, Maura crept back around the building and went in the door she had come out of. She walked along the S path until she came to an unmarked door, then paused and knocked.
The door was soon opened by a short, pudgy woman with close-cropped blond hair, who looked at Maura with oversized, vacuous blue eyes. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so," Maura said pleasantly, reading "Dena Johnson" on the woman's nametag. "My name is Maura Polanski. I'm working as a private investigator for Leigh Koslow's attorney."
Dena's wide eyes stretched wider, then narrowed. "I can't help you," she said flatly. "And you shouldn't be knocking on this door. This is a staff-only area."
Maura forged ahead without pause. "I was wondering if you could help me find an ex-employee named Kristin Yates. She's our prime suspect now, you know."
The bird keeper's eyes widened as far as her mascara-laden lids would allow, her jaw dropping slightly in concert. "I don't know anything!" she said, her voice shaking. "Now leave me alone, or I'll call security."
"No, ma'am," Maura said cheerfully. "That won't be necessary. I'll go. Thank you for your time."
Dena Johnson shut the door quickly as Maura turned and headed back toward the front entrance. Once out of sight, she doubled back, went out the back door, and crept around the outside of the building again.
Eureka. The outer door to the staff area was still open. Maura moved in carefully, craning her ears. She needn't have bothered—the volume of the voices inside had doubled.
"What do you think she meant, Kristin is the prime suspect?" Dena sounded on the verge of hysteria. "She couldn't be! Leigh Koslow was already arrested!"
"She was lying," the second voice answered. "She works for Leigh, doesn't she?"
"But why ask me about Kristin?" Dena railed. "Why should they think I know anything about Kristin?"
"They probably found out you were friends. Don't sweat it."
"Do you think they know Kristin was here that night?"
The second voice sighed in exasperation. "Calm down, will you! How could they know? Nobody saw her but you and me. If they had, they would have said something."
There was a pause, during which someone seemed to be pacing. "Maybe she meant Kristin was a suspect about Tanner's ex," Dena said hopefully. "Do you think that's it?"
"How should I know? Stop that!" Maura heard a dull thwack, and the pacing stopped.
"I can't help it, Tonya!" Dena whined. "I don't want Kristin to get in trouble, I mean, especially not now, with the baby coming and all. But no way am I letting myself get screwed over for this!"
"You won't."
"I could!"
"It's your word against hers."
"Whose?"
&nbs
p; "Leigh Koslow's, dimwit!"
"Stop calling me that!" Dena screeched. "You're not the one that could go to jail for—" She faltered. "What do they call it when you lie to a judge or whatever?"
"Are you going to obsess about this all afternoon?" Tonya barked, ignoring the question. "Or are you going to do the finches?"
Maura stood frozen in position until the sound of the inside door opening and closing indicated the show was over. She smiled to herself, crept back around to the outdoor aviary, and completed her tour. "Perjury, my dear," she said softly to the darting swallows overhead. "The word is perjury."
***
For the first time ever, Leigh had left Katharine's office in a good mood. So good, she had spent the next few hours hanging around Station Square, and had even indulged in a double dip of caramel turtle fudge in a sugar cone. Fortified, calorically and emotionally, she set out for Tanner's house.
Why Tanner chose to live so far from the zoo was a mystery. The drive was inconvenient enough that he often slept over at the zoo hospital, yet he showed no desire to move closer in. Leigh took her map of Allegheny County out of the glove compartment and located the road she'd heard Tanner mention, which was in Findlay Township, past the airport. It was a long road. What was his house number? She pulled over at a pay phone and looked in the white pages. "Tanner M.C., Beaudoin Rd Fndly Twp." Thanks. She started to close the book when she noticed another entry farther down. "Tanner S.P., Beaudoin Rd Fndly Twp."
She slammed the book shut. Mystery solved. Stacey lived in Findlay Township too. Or at least she had. Just how obsessed was Tanner with his ex?
She got back in her Cavalier and headed toward the airport. She was going to find Tanner's house if she had to scour the entire road. He said he was renting…was he renting from Stacey? Surely not. Obsession or no, she'd charge him a fortune. More likely she still lived in what had been their house, and he had rented his place to be near to her after the divorce.
