Done Rubbed Out: Reightman & Bailey Book One

by Jeffery Craig

  “What you mean?”

  “I mean, cut the crap. Stop with the fussy old lady act and can the pigeon English. I’ve been informed of your rather formidable reputation, your high-priced law school degree, and your impressive connections. So you can stop the games.”

  Toby Bailey looked confused. He knew Madame Zhou was far sharper than she acted sometimes, but the rest of her qualifications and credentials surprised him. Jackson stood against the wall watching the scene with his usual perfect calm.

  Zhou Li folded her tiny hands on the table and regarded Reightman thoughtfully. She gave a single nod. “All right, Detective. I agree there’s no further need for subterfuge.” Zhou uncapped her fountain pen and opened her memo pad. “Since we’ve finished our thoughtfully provided lunch, shall we start?”

  Reightman shook her head. “Not quite yet. I have a couple of things to say first, if you don’t mind. Even if you do mind, I’m going to say them.” Zhou arched a single brow at Reightman’s cool, firm tone. “I’ll start by stating I resent that fact you lead me to assume you were less competent and experienced than you obviously are. I find it unprofessional and frankly, insulting.”

  Zhou Li replaced the cap of her pen and placed it once again on the notebook in front of her. “I can see your point, and I apologize. Sometimes, I get carried away trying to gain an advantage. However, I take no responsibility for any assumptions you might have made.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Reightman could feel her eye beginning to twitch again.

  The old lady warmed up to her topic. “Any assumptions made were entirely your own. Surely you are trained to see, Detective? Trained to look past the surface to discover what is underneath.” She settled her tiny body further back in the chair. “You allowed yourself to form a strong opinion of me and my capabilities based on first impressions, without taking the time to discover the truth for yourself. I find myself quite disappointed in your lack of perception, and can only hope you will use your abilities more carefully until this unfortunate case is concluded. In fact, I must demand that you do so.”

  “Demand?”

  “Yes, Detective, demand. I absolutely require such care from you, and from Detective Jackson, in order to best serve my client,” she inclined her head toward Toby. “Surely you understand?”

  “What I understand is that you sauntered in here this morning wearing the guise of an old and foolish woman who spoke much less perfect English than you’ve been speaking for the last few minutes. I was actually feeling sorry for your client, which is probably exactly what you intended. You reinforced that impression by unloading all of these,” she gestured to the table, “oddly assorted items from your bag. What’s up with this junk anyway? A yellow umbrella, a rain hat, a used cough drop, an absolutely unbelievable cellphone cover, and all the other stuff? And covering your chair with tissues? Which, by the way, you also unloaded from that bag and are now crumpled up on the table. That was the crowning touch. Well done, Madame Zhou! This farce was a ridiculous waste of my time, and the time of this department.”

  Zhou took a moment to respond. “The bit with the tissues was over the top, although these chairs are very dirty. I would have expected things to be a little cleaner, but I suppose budget cuts are impacting all city services in some way or another. As for the other items, let us tick them off now, shall we?”

  She surveyed the items on the table. “The umbrella and the rain hat are here because it is cloudy outside and I dislike the possibility of getting wet; the unwieldy set of keys belongs to various properties I own around town and I never know when they might be needed; the cherry flavored cough drop came from a small child who offered it to me in church last week. Rather than hurt his feelings, I thanked him and simply dropped it into my bag. I hadn’t been able to find it to remove until this morning; I carry green tea because I don’t like coffee, and the sweet stuff they insist on serving everywhere is not acceptable to me, regardless of the season. The cell phone cover? It is indeed unbelievably awful, and I assure you it does not reflect my personal taste. However, it was a birthday gift from my eleven year old great grand-niece, who absolutely adores Hello Kitty. I love her, so I choose to use it. It makes her happy, and that makes me happy. Perhaps you have children, Detective? Or maybe even grandchildren?”

  Reightman wasn’t pleased with the familiarity Zhou Li was trying to establish between them, but had to admit it was probably a fair question under the circumstance. Grudgingly she allowed, “A daughter and two grandchildren.”

  Zhou Li offered a tiny smile. “So, you understand about Hello Kitty.”

  Remembering the endless sound of animated cartoons playing in her former home, Reightman had to agree. “I suppose I do. But, what about that…that get-up you’re wearing?” She indicated the odd clothing the attorney wore.

  “Well, Detective, if you really must know, I was doing a bit of gardening this morning and I am afraid I ran short on time. And before you ask, I choose to be called Madame, rather than Miz, because it is a custom in my family – a custom of long standing. In old cultures, such a title shows respect to me and for my position, just as occasional bowing shows the respect I have for a person or occasion. I know it’s terribly old-fashioned, but I have retained those customs because it is how I was raised in my parent’s household. I have never married, so addressing me as ‘missus’ would not be correct. If I had married, I would have considered the adoption of that salutation. Now, is there anything else for which you require an answer?’

  Accepting the many contrasts of the difficult morning, Reightman shook her head no.

  “Good,” Zhou Li nodded in approval. “I am glad we have so successfully settled the first set of questions today. I am optimistic this bodes well for the resolution of this case. I am certain you have many more questions to ask, so I suggest we get started. Detective Jackson, why don’t you join us here at the table instead of lurking from your current position against that wall? It will be more pleasant, although the evident lack of comfort provided by these hideous chairs might cause me to regret that statement before the day is done.”

  Reightman almost smiled, because she absolutely agreed the chairs were hideous and uncomfortable. However, she reminded herself she was still miffed at Zhou Li.

  Jackson made his way to the table. “There seems to be a purse in my chair.”

  Reightman sighed, and removed the offending bag, placing it on the floor at her feet. She fanned herself with her notepad as Jackson took his seat. Toby Bailey looked from each of the people around the table with a slightly wide-eyed gaze.

  Madame Zhou Li uncapped her gold pen, and gave an encouraging smile to her client. “We are ready when you are, Detectives.”

  Reightman took a minute to collect her thoughts. She aligned the yellow legal pad at her right hand and uncapped her ballpoint. She knew it wasn’t as impressive as the one Zhou Li held in her own hand, but it worked, and it made her feel more confident to have it at the ready. She cleared her throat and started, “Mr. Bailey, I’m going to be asking a serious of questions about your involvement in the death of Geraldo Guzman.”

  Zhou Li interjected immediately. “Detective Reightman, I must protest your characterization. My client had no involvement in the unfortunate murder of Mr. Guzman.”

  Reightman had anticipated the objection and was ready to rephrase. “Mr. Bailey, I am going to ask you a series of questions which will, hopefully, help me understand the events leading up to and surrounding Mr. Guzman’s murder.” She paused for any new objections, and when none were forthcoming, she continued. “You’ve been arrested as a suspect in this murder. Do you understand that this is a serious charge?”

  The young man swallowed and looked to Zhou Li. After a receiving her small nod, he answered. “Yes.”

  Reightman made note of his shaky voice before she continued. “According to the statement you made last evening, you returned to the Time Out Spa at around 8:45 PM, at which time you discovered the door unlocked and the al
arm off. Is that correct?”

  Toby Bailey turned to his attorney and Zhou Li indicated Toby should answer. “Yes, that is correct.”

  “Did you find those discoveries surprising at the time?”

  Again, Toby looked to Zhou Li for direction. She started to nod, but raised her hand instead. “Toby, you need to answer the questions without looking for my approval every time. You may trust me to interject if I have an issue with the question, or if I wish to advise you not to answer. Do you understand? “

  “Yes, Madame Zhou.” He bestowed a trusting smile on her and then turned to Reightman. “Yes. I did find it unusual, because I knew I’d locked the door and set the alarm before I left.”

  “Were you worried about what you might find when you entered the building?”

  Toby thought back to the previous night. “No, not at first. I was more confused than afraid or worried.”

  “Did you go directly to the back room of the building after you had entered the premises?”

  “No, I didn’t. I turned on the lights in the front room and checked each room as I worked my way down the hall. The room where I found…where I found Geri was the last room I checked.”

  Jackson looked up from his notes and asked the next question. “Mr. Bailey, what did you do when you discovered the body?”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “What do you mean you didn’t do anything? Didn’t you want to help your friend?”

  “Of course I wanted to help him! But, I knew it was too late. I could tell by the way his eyes were open and staring off into space. I knew he was already dead. I could tell, somehow. He just wasn’t there any more, you know?”

  “Of course, Mr. Bailey." Jackson gave him a minute to recover. “What did you do next?”

  “I called the police.”

  “You called the police at about 8:55 PM, is that correct?

  “I guess. I’m not really sure. There aren’t any regular clocks at the spa and I don’t have a watch. I usually just check my cell phone when I need to know the time.”

  “And did you check your cell phone?

  “No. I didn’t have it with me. I lost it somewhere earlier.”

  “That’s right. Last night you indicated the reason you returned there was to search for your phone. Did you find it?”

  “I didn’t look. After…after I found Geri, I couldn’t do much of anything. “

  “Mr. Bailey, what did you do between the time you called the police, and the time the first officers arrived on the scene?”

  Toby tried to recall how he’d occupied the time. He didn’t remember what he’d done after he’d found Geri’s body. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “No.”

  Jackson tapped his pen on the small notebook he held in his hands. “Do you forget things a lot?”

  “No, not usually.”

  “Yet, last night you forgot your phone, and you forgot what you were doing before the police arrived. That makes me think maybe you do have a habit of forgetting things.”

  “I don’t forget things. I do put my phone down sometimes and then have to hunt around for it. But, I don’t forget other stuff.”

  Jackson studied the young man’s face and pursed his lip. Finally, he nodded. “Alright, Mr. Bailey." He wrote down a couple of notes, and then handed off to Reightman.

  “Mr. Bailey,” she asked, “did you start the washing machine in the break room before you left the premises?”

  “Yes. I threw in a load while I was there. We go through a lot of towels and sheets and it’s hard to keep up with all the laundry. I’m always starting a load of something.”

  “Did you load the washer yourself?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “What did you put in the washer?”

  “Last night it was towels first, and after they were finished, I moved them to the dryer. Then I started a load of sheets.”

  Jackson stood up and walked around the table. He grabbed a bottle of water and twisted of the top. “Would you like another bottle of water, Mr. Bailey?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Jackson picked up another bottle of water and walked over to the young man seated at the end of the table. Reightman longed for a bottle too, by Jackson hadn’t offered. She watched her partner carefully, knowing what he intended. They’d used this approach many times before. As he handed the water to the young man, Jackson asked casually “Why did you put the knife in the washer, Toby? “

  Toby Bailey lost his grip the bottle and fumbled to set it upright. “I didn’t put the knife in the washer – just towels and then the sheets.”

  “How about the clothes? Geri’s clothes, with all the blood on them.”

  Zhou Li frowned, but didn’t object to Jackson’s questioning.

  “I didn’t do anything with any clothes. The only things I put in the wash were towels and sheets.” When he realized they weren’t buying his story, he looked frantically around the table. “You have to believe me!”

  Jackson leaned closer to the boy. “How long did you wait before calling the police? Did you go and grab a bite while your buddy was bleeding to death?” Jackson leaned even closer, until he was crowding the young man. “How long, Bailey?”

  The young man was on his feet in a flash and his face was red. He held his hands balled up at his side and he started to cry. “I didn’t kill him! I told you that already. I didn’t kill him!”

  “How long, Toby Bailey? How many times? How many times did you stab him?”

  “Stop saying that! I didn’t do it.” The young man covered his face and turned away sobbing.

  Jackson maneuvered to face him. “Why did you do it?’ he asked gently. “Tell us and maybe we can help you.”

  “Madame Zhou!” The boy was now almost wild with grief and fear. “Help me. You said you would help me! Make them stop – I can’t take this!” Zhou Li didn’t respond. “I didn’t kill Geri. I could never do that. I loved him. Madame Zhou, you know that true…you said you believed me.” Reightman was suddenly very sad for Toby Bailey.

  Zhou Li finally had enough. She stood and threw her notebook onto the tabletop. “Detective! This is out of bounds! I insist you stop this at once.”

  “Your client is a cold blooded murderer, counselor. The sooner he admits it, the better things will be.”

  She slapped her hands down on the table with surprising force. The sound echoed in the room. “My client hasn’t killed anyone, Detective Jackson!”

  Jackson was unfazed by her show of anger. “It’s time to get your client to talk. Maybe the DA will agree to a deal. Right now, things are looking pretty bad for your client. We have the murder weapon and it’s directly linked to him. Pretty soon, the time of death will be established. Then it’s just a matter of time before we find a motive. There’s bound to be one, given their relationship. After that, we’ll place Mr. Toby Bailey at the scene.”

  ”I don’t think you will.” The old lady sounded harsh and very certain of herself. “I think this has just been a very dramatic fishing expedition.” She regarded Jackson with steady black eyes. “I understand the need to pressure and traumatize this young man – it’s part of the routine in cases like this, which is why I let it continue. But I have now had enough of the cheap theatrics! It is time to face facts. Shall I outline the hurdles ahead of you, Detective?” She ticked off the items on her fingers. “Number one: there are no prints of any kind on the knife, much less prints belonging to my client. Number two: any prints of Mr. Bailey’s you find on premises are perfectly explainable as he owns the establishment, and has a perfect right to handle or touch anything he desires in the entire building. Number three: within the next fifteen minutes, I expect the private detective I hired this morning will have established Mr. Bailey’s whereabouts for the evening, and will have also confirmed an alibi covering the majority of time – if not all of the time – which lapsed between the moment he left the office and the moment he returned. Toby i
s well-known in the area, and not only will the bistro staff confirm the time he spent over dinner, but you can rest assured people of the neighborhood will verify his path to and from. As for number four, you have nothing – and I repeat – nothing to tie the weapon to my client. Any evidence you have is entirely circumstantial and will never be anything more than that because my client did not kill Geraldo Guzman. You made a poor decision and arrested my client not only prematurely, but wrongly.”

  Reightman stood up from her chair and gazed steadily at Zhou. “The weapon in custody clearly belongs to Mr. Bailey. It has his name engraved on it.”

  Zhou Li shook her head disappointedly. “Detective Reightman, I warned you earlier about the need to look beyond your assumptions. What proof do you have the knife belongs to my client? You claim it has had his name on it. So what? Does it have his full first and last name engraved on its hilt, or does it simply read ‘Toby’? How many men in this city, this state, or this country might be called ‘Toby’? How many of them might have conceivably owned a knife of this sort over the last thirty years? Hazard a guess for me, Detectives. Or, perhaps someone unknown simply found it somewhere and thought it might be nice to have. Do you have any written or photographic proof the weapon belonged to this Toby? Do you even have the smallest anecdotal account of my client possessing such an item?” Zhou Li considered the Detectives for a long moment, waiting on a response. When she was satisfied she’d made her point, she continued in a softer voice, “Detectives, have you ever even considered that someone may have used that specific knife in order to frame my client?”

  Reightman met her stare for stare, resisting the urge to pull her blouse away from her sweating skin. The old woman had raised some valid points and enough doubts that Reightman found herself worried. And she was feeling so damned overheated.

  Zhou Li turned and walked to the mirrored observation window. Facing it she bowed, without any irony whatsoever, and spoke very formally. “I am sure behind this glass there are observers. I have had many, many years of experience in rooms such as this so I would be highly surprised if no one of importance is listening. It is procedure. This, I understand and respect as a tool to find evidence and establish guilt. I would venture one of the observers is the Chief of Police, Ernest Kelly. I would venture there is at least one more observer, perhaps someone from the office of the District Attorney. I will say this to those listening and observing: you and this team have made a grave error. You have acted in haste, and allowed others to act without full and irrefutable evidence of wrong doing. I appeal to you to see past the surface and to think!”