Keeping Promises Can Be Murder: A Lexi Taylor and Ray Jansen Mystery

by Susan Goslak

  Homes made, for decorations.”

  Linda thought a minute. “That’s a fantastic idea. We’ll make this party a two day event. We’ll hold it at the Stanton Art Gallery.

  The first day we’ll invite the big spenders and the second day we’ll invite the public.”

  Linda got out her calendar. “Let’s set a date, then we’ll call the gallery to see if that date is available.”

  We worked for another hour and I left full of excitement about the project and eager to complete my list of tasks.

  « Chapter Fifteen »

  Wednesday may have been a typical day for me, but it was not typical at all for Ed Bookman. It was very untypical. It was Mr. Bookman’s last day on earth and Mr. Bookman was not at all prepared for what happened. Mr. Bookman was a homeless man. He was homeless by choice. He liked being alone and he liked being outdoors and, most of all, he liked the fact that nobody told him what to do. He did odd jobs to earn the little bit of money that he needed.

  His day began much like any other day. Ed woke with the sun and enjoyed his breakfast. He was eating the leftovers from last night’s feast which had been provided by a local church group that drove around delivering food to the homeless. After breakfast Ed went to work. He was painting a storage shed that was in the parking lot behind a small grocery store. At lunch the owner of the store brought a sandwich and a bottle of Ed’s favorite orange soda pop to Ed.

  Ed thanked the owner, enjoyed his lunch, and then took a short nap before finishing his work at around five o’clock. He collected his money and walked back to the park to sit on a bench

  and people-watch for a while before he had to think about dinner. As

  Ed sat there lots of people passed in front of him. One man in particular, a tall man dressed casually in chinos and a polo shirt, passed in front of Ed three times. Each time he walked slower and looked harder at Ed. He noted that Ed was wearing decent clothes and what looked like brand new shoes. That’s him. Yes, that’s him. The man thought. I’ll get even with him later. I’ll give him what he deserves. Oh, yes. I’ll give him what he deserves. The man rubbed his hands together and chuckled to himself.

  The man was excited that he’d found the person responsible for Cissy’s death, and he knew that he’d have to wait till dark to exact his revenge. He was impatient, frustrated by the long wait. Take it easy. He told himself. Remember, revenge is a dish best served cold. The man chuckled at the old saying. He was hungry, but he didn’t want to lose sight of Ed Bookman. There will be time for eating after I take care of this guy.

  Ed Bookman was also thinking that he was hungry. He was planning to get a burger from the dollar menu at McDonalds and have a fresh peach for desert. The owner of the grocery store where Ed had worked that day gave Ed the fruit that wasn’t perfect for half price or sometimes for free. On his way to get his burger Ed decided to go past the shed he’d painted. He wanted to admire his work. He walked to the rear of the parking lot. He was proud of the job he’d done. It looked real nice.

  As Ed stood there admiring his work the man walked up to him. The man looked around and was relieved to see that there was no one else around. While Ed was people watching the man had

  taken the time to change clothes. He now wore dirty blue jeans, a black turtleneck sweater and sneakers with holes in them. Ed saw the man and spoke to him, “Look at this shed. I painted it and I did a good job if I do say so myself.”

  The man didn’t acknowledge Ed at all. He simply walked up to him, reached out and wrapped his large hands around Ed’s throat.

  Caught by surprise, Ed was unable to fight back. He put his hands on the man’s arms in an effort to break his hold, but the effort was futile. The man squeezed harder and harder. His face turned red with the effort, and his breathing was labored. Still he squeezed and squeezed until he felt the life drain out of Ed. The man dropped his arms and Ed fell to the ground. The man looked at Ed lying on the ground. He stooped down to peer closely into Ed’s face. He stood up. “He’s not the one. He’s not the one!” the man looked around and saw the paint can that Ed had used. He picked it up and smashed it into Ed’s face. The can became dented, the lid fell off, and green paint spread over Ed’s face. The man cried as he walked away.

  « Chapter Sixteen »

  Mark Portman was Ray’s first visitor on Thursday. “Jail seems to be good for my client. He’s the first person I’ve seen who has actually gotten more color in his face while in jail. I suspect that Toon wasn’t getting enough to eat before. He’s a big man, but he’s painfully thin. I think he’s put on a pound or two.”

  Ray chuckled. “Sounds like Toon is taking advantage of his “vacation.” Want some coffee?”

  Mark was dressed in a stylish three piece suit. He wore a pale green dress shirt and his tie had shades of green and brown. I’d love a cup and can I have one of those scones I saw on your credenza?”

  I saw Ray and Mark and I walked toward them. “Coffee, Gentlemen?” I asked.

  “And scones, please,” answered Mark.

  When the men were settled in Ray’s office and Ray had lit up

  a cigarette he said, “My friend, Lt. Donner thinks that there may be a serial killer at work. If you’re lucky he’ll kill again and Toon will be off the hook.”

  “It would be even better if you’d catch the killer in the act,”

  laughed Mark.

  Ray laughed, too. “I’ll see what I can do, after all, I did promise Toon.” Then he filled Mark in on his visit to the homeless group. “By the way, anyone of the homeless people would be happy to be a character witness for Toon, so would the people he works for at the Stanton Art Gallery.”

  “I’m not sure that the homeless people will carry much weight, but the people at the Art Gallery will,” said Mark.

  “I visited Toon in jail and gave him a new sketchbook,” said Ray. “I asked him to name the people he had sketched. He was able to name all but four. He said that they were just people he saw on the street. He said that he sometimes sketches people on the street, and then tries to sell the sketch to them. Lt. Donner didn’t recognize any of the four.” Ray set his coffee cup down. “You know it’s just possible that one of those sketches is the murderer. I’m going to see if I can put a name to each of those four faces. If any of the homeless people realize that they’ve seen one of those faces more than once that person could be the one we’re looking for.”

  “Or, you could be wasting your time,” said Mark.

  Ray chuckled. “That’s what we P.I.s do, but it’s not a waste of time if I can eliminate some facts. If you keep eliminating possibilities, what’s left is the answer.”

  Ray put his coffee cup down. “By the way, why are you here? Surely you didn’t come for the scones.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about getting bail for “Toon.” I’m dragging my feet so that he can have more time with a roof over his head and three square meals a day.”

  “That’s a good idea, Mark, but you could have told me that on the phone. Could it be that while you’re here you’d like me to introduce you to Denise?”

  Mark chuckled. “You are a detective. Yes, I’d like an intro. I think she’s pretty.”

  “My secretary said that she thinks you two would make a lovely couple.”

  Ray and Mark walked to where Denise was working and Ray introduced them. “Now I’m going to walk away and, Mark, you ask Denise out for a drink.” He grinned and punched Mark on the arm.

  “Thanks, Pal,” said Mark. Then he asked Denise to have a drink with him after work, and she said, “Yes.”

  Ray and Mark left together. Mark went to court and Ray took Toon’s sketches to the homeless people and asked them if they’d ever seen any of the people. He also took them to the shop owners and clerks in the area. He didn’t have any luck. No one had seen any of them.

  Ray returned to the office where he put in a call to Carl Logan. He told him about Angie and the DNA test he’d ordered. “Don’t lose hope. These missin
g person cases take time,” he told Carl.

  After work I went to the gym that was housed in the same building as our office. I walked around the track for a mile, then used the machines for some muscle building. I took my shower and was waiting in the juice bar when Ray got there.

  “You look great,” Ray said as he walked up to me. Your face is flushed and it gives you some color, and your hair is curly.”

  “That’s because it is still damp,” I said. “Let’s get a glass of wine and a salad. I’ve got both of those at my apartment.”

  “Maybe after we eat we can get in some more exercise,” said Ray with a wink.

  On the drive to my apartment Ray filled me in on his day. “I showed the sketches to dozens of people and nobody recognized any of the faces. I’m going to spend some time hanging around the area: the park, the shops, the homeless shelter, the churches and Pete is going to help.”

  “At least you’re doing something. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you to have good luck.” I said.

  When we got to my apartment we made a wonderful salad. It had fresh tomatoes, avocado, feta cheese, black olives and grilled chicken, and my secret ingredient, fresh dill. Yum! We drank a light rose wine with it. Wine always makes me sleepy so after listening to some jazz, which Ray was trying to teach me to enjoy, we retired early to my bedroom for that healthy exercise. In fact, we exercised for a healthy period of time until we were both exhausted.

  “My Ray, my wonderful Ray, I feel so safe in your arms,” I whispered.

  Ray kissed the top of my head, “I’m glad you feel safe; safe and contented. I want you to always feel that way. I love you. Good night, Lexi.”

  At three a.m. Ray’s cell phone rang. It was Lieutenant Donner calling to tell Ray that they’d found another dead body.

  What’s wrong, Ray?” I asked when he put the phone down.

  “That was Lt. Donner from homicide. There’s been

  another murder of a homeless man.”

  “Does that mean that Mr. Carter is off the hook?” I asked. “He couldn’t have killed anyone while he’s in jail.”

  “That’s true, but the police will just say that there are two killers. We’ll need more evidence to prove Toon innocent.”

  Ray quickly dressed and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Get some sleep while I’m gone.”

  Fifteen minutes later he drove into the parking lot and stopped his car near the newly painted shed. He walked up to the police crime scene tape. A uniformed officer was about to stop him, but Lt. Donner waved him on. The officer lifted the tape so that Ray could walk under it. “Ray, the D.B. is over there, same M.O. as the other two. This time he smashed the face with a paint can, hence the green paint all over.

  “Do you know the identity of the victim?” asked Ray.

  “Yeah, the owner of this beautiful shed here told us that the man’s name is Ed Bookman. He just finished painting this shed this afternoon.” Lt. Donner kicked a can that was lying on the ground. “Damn it, Ray. This guy wasn’t hurting anybody he didn’t deserve this! We’ve got to put a stop to this killer.”

  Ray frowned, “Yeah, I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “I’d appreciate it. Come down to my office at 9:00 and I’ll fill you in on what little we have so far. Two heads are better than one. Maybe together we can decide where to look for this killer.”

  “I’ll be there,” said Ray as he turned to walk back to his car.

  “Ray, wait!” called Lt. Donner. “We got the DNA results back from the lab. The last D.B. wasn’t William Logan.”

  “Thanks, that’s good news,” said Ray.

  When Ray returned to my apartment he crept into bed and put his arm around me and we slept until the alarm rang at 7:00. While we ate breakfast Ray filled me in on what he’d seen. I was happy that the DNA test proved that the dead body wasn’t William Logan. I offered to call Carl Logan and Cathy Logan to tell them the news.

  « Chapter Seventeen »

  Ray dropped me off at the office, picked up his car from the garage and drove to Lt. Donner’s office. “Nine a.m. on the dot and here I am with breakfast in hand,” he said as he handed His friend a fast food breakfast sandwich and a large coffee.”

  “Gimmee,” said Lt. Donner. “I’m hungry.”

  Jim looked a little disheveled which was definitely not his usual look. His slacks were dirty, his shirt was wrinkled. His hair needed combing and he needed a shave.

  “You didn’t get any sleep last night did you?” asked Ray.

  “You know what the answer to that is. You were on the job once,” said Lt. Jim Donner. “You look well rested, though.”

  “Busted!” laughed Ray. “I crawled back in with Lexi for a few hours.”

  Jim raised an eyebrow. “Getting serious?”

  Ray just sat down and took the lid off of his cup of coffee. He took a tentative sip and asked, “What do you know about this killer?”

  “Not much, Ray, in fact almost nothing. This last murder was

  the third one that we are aware of. Of course you know that often there are more murders that we uncover later.” He took a big bite of

  his sandwich and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Man this tastes

  good. I was running on empty.” He pushed a file folder toward Ray. “The three murders that we are working on have all been homeless men around 50 years old. They were all similar in height and build. They all had the same hair color. They were all killed by manual strangulation. That means that the murderer is a big, strong man with large hands.”

  “Like Toon,” said Ray as he pushed his sandwich toward Jim. “Enjoy. I can eat later.”

  “Like Toon.” agreed Lt. Donner. “But since he was in Jail at the time of the last murder it seems unlikely that he’s the murderer. The P.A. says that we can release him, but he’s not off the hook until we find out for certain that he didn’t kill victim number two.”

  Ray nodded. “I’ve been taking those sketches that Toon made to shops and other places in the neighborhood to see if any- body recognized one of the faces. So far I haven’t had any luck. You know it’s highly unlikely that one of them is the murderer, but it is a remote possibility.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it’s all we have right now. At least you’re poking around, feeling like you’re doing something instead of sitting on your hands doing nothing. I’ll have some of my men take the sketches to a wider area.”

  Ray sat forward on his chair. “I’ve enlisted Pete to help. We’re going to dress as homeless men and cruise the neighborhood where the murders have occurred. We’ll hit all the spots: churches, stores, parks, shelters. If we spend enough time there we may be able to spot somebody who doesn’t fit.”

  “I don’t like that, Ray. You two are setting yourselves up as

  targets for this killer. Who’s watching your back? You undoubtedly feel that you can handle this guy if he comes at you, but what if you’re wrong? I’d hate like hell to be standing over your dead body some day, my friend.

  “I wouldn’t be too happy about that either,” said Ray with a grimace.

  “This isn’t funny. Since all the murders have taken place on a Wednesday I plan to put as many men as I have available into the area on Wednesday night. They’ll be dressed in soft clothes, but not as homeless men.”

  “Police presence in the area may scare him away,” said Ray.

  “They’ll be as invisible as they can be,” said Jim. “I don’t like the idea of you acting as a decoy, but if you find anything you will let me know right away,” said Jim.

  “You’ll be the first to know,” said Ray.

  “I’d better be,” said Lt. Donner.

  “Jim, you know that it’s the policy at our office to stay away from open police cases. My case started as a missing person case. The police weren’t looking for William, so I wasn’t stepping on any toes. When you found the dead body that you thought might be William Logan our cases overlapped. Now I’m working for Earl Carte
r, so I’m going to be working the same case that you’re working. I feel uncomfortable about that. In fact, Paul might tell me to drop this case.”

  “You don’t have to drop this case,” said Jim. “I trust you . . . up to a point. Don’t let me catch you disturbing evidence or re-moving evidence or planting evidence or doing anything even the

  least bit shady.”

  Ray raised his right hand, “I promise,” he said.

  “Wait a minute,” said Jim. “I said that wrong. I didn’t mean to say that it’s okay as long as I don’t catch you. I mean just don’t do anything even slightly shady.”

  Ray laughed. “If I uncover anything, you’ll be the first to know. I promise. I’ll do everything by the book.”

  “Yeah, but whose book will you be using?”

  Both men smiled and sipped from their coffee cups.

  Serious now, Ray asked, “Do the three victims have anything else in common?”

  Jim Donner pointed to his murder board. He had posted crime scene photos and information on it.

  Ray went to the board and studied it. “All three were homeless. So we know that we have to concentrate our efforts on those people. All three were not native Californians. Is that somehow significant or just a coincidence? All three were men. I’d say that is significant. All three look very similar. I’d say that is very significant.”

  “I have a good man looking into the lives of those men to see if we can find any more commonalities,” Jim said.

  “The fact that all three murders took place on a Wednesday is significant,” said Ray.

  “We just haven’t gotten a break on this case yet, and we sure could use one,” said Jim. “I don’t want to just keep poking around hoping that a clue will drop from the nearest tree. I want to be working hard on this case. I’m meeting with Doctor Winfred, our

  profiler, in twenty minutes.

  “I promised Carl and Toon that I’d find the killer and, damn it, it isn’t William who’s dead, but I mean to keep that promise,” declared Ray. He threw his paper coffee cup into the trash can beside Jim’s desk, shook hands with Jim, and walked out.