The Scent of Murder

by Barbara Block

  “What’s going on?” Tim demanded as I rubbed my foot.

  “I’ll spell it out for you.” I reached for a pen and paper.

  “But he was just here for a couple of minutes,” he exclaimed, after he’d finished reading what I’d written.

  “It was long enough.” These days a listening device could be installed in seconds.

  We searched the room, even though I knew it was a futile exercise. The devices Toon Town had planted could be anywhere. They could be hidden in anything: a pen, a wall plug, the bottom of a box. For all I knew, he could be standing outside and listening to what we were saying with an electronic ear. I dashed outside on the off chance that he was and I could spot him. I circled the block in the cab and looked in all the parked cars. But of course he wasn’t there. That would have been too easy.

  As I pulled up in front of the store, I debated about going to the police. I could drive down there right now. Toon Town wouldn’t know. Unless he’d planted a bug in the cab too. The odds were against it. On the other hand, it never occurred to me that he would plant anything in the store. And my car had just been sitting out there. It was better not to take chances. I didn’t want to upset him, even though I had a strong hunch that no matter what happened, he wasn’t going to hurt Amy.

  But I wasn’t prepared to bet Amy’s life on my intuition either.

  I recalled the scream I’d heard.

  It sure had sounded real.

  But maybe it wasn’t.

  Maybe Amy had been faking.

  Or maybe the scream had been prerecorded. You could get sound effect collections on CDs. I’d seen them on sale at Record Heaven. Which would mean she and Toon Town were in this together.

  Maybe this was her way of getting me to give her the stones.

  Of course she could have just asked.

  Or come and gotten them herself.

  So why hadn’t she?

  The most obvious reason was because she was afraid.

  Of who?

  Manuel had said she was scared she was being watched. I thought for a minute. And someone had gone through my house and ransacked my store. Maybe it wasn’t a bunch of kids and Toon Town doing this stuff, after all. Maybe that’s why Amy had staged this drama. If that were true, it would certainly make her behavior more understandable. On the other hand, she could be totally nuts.

  Of course, Toon Town could actually have kidnapped her and be forcing her to tell where the stones were.

  Maybe she hadn’t met me at the mall because he’d grabbed her before she could.

  Maybe she’d really been going to tell me everything.

  And maybe I should go to circus school and learn to be a tightrope walker.

  I rested my head on the back of the seat and closed my eyes. Suddenly I was seized by an overpowering desire to sleep. As I listened to the tree branches creaking in the wind, for some reason, I started thinking about the summer camp I’d gone to when I was seven and how much I’d hated it and how my mother had kept sending me back there anyway, even though I’d cried for two weeks before she put me on the train. And then I wondered if Amy had ever gone to camp and then I wondered why I was wondering. I yawned and opened my eyes. Even though I didn’t want to, it was time to go back inside Noah’s Ark. I got out of the car and crossed the sidewalk to the store. In the window, the cardboard witch, leaning against the stack of cat carriers, winked at me as I opened the door.

  It was now eight o’clock. The next two hours took what seemed like ten to pass. Around eight thirty, Manuel came back to the store, spent ten minutes tapping his foot and jingling the change in his pocket, and left again, for which I was profoundly grateful. I was so keyed up that every sound he made grated on my nerves. Tim and I spent the rest of the time waiting on customers, rearranging the shelves, and mopping the floors. We didn’t talk much. Given the circumstances, it was hard to think of anything to say.

  “You better get going,” Tim said, as the hands of the clock on the wall hit ten.

  I nodded. “You have the key to my house?” He demonstrated he did by holding it up. He was supposed to drop Zsa Zsa off at home. “I’ll call as soon as I can,” I promised.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Tim replied.

  I buttoned up my jacket and went outside. A scimitar-shaped sliver of a new moon hung in the sky. Over to the left, I made out the Big Dipper. As I got in the cab, I heard a cat hiss and another one answer. It was a good night for prowling. I had half an hour to get to the water tower by the Lincoln Square apartments, which was more than enough time. For once, I drove slowly and scrupulously, obeying all the traffic laws. I didn’t want to risk getting pulled over by a cop right now. As I turned into the complex, I thought that the choice of this locale for a drop site seemed to argue for Amy’s involvement. After all, she was familiar with the place.

  As I drove along, I had to admit it was a good choice. The parking lots were full. Most people were in for the night. If anyone saw me, they wouldn’t remember. I’d just be another tenant coming home after a hard day’s work.

  As per instructions, I followed the road up to the water tower. It was an old, rusted structure—a hold over from the days when the area had contained factories and warehouses instead of apartments. I parked in the lot and followed an asphalt path the rest of the way. The groundkeepers obviously didn’t tend this area of Lincoln Square. The gravel surrounding the tower was dotted with potato chip bags, soda cans, and pieces of broken glass.

  I looked around when I got to the top. If Toon Town was standing in the hedges down below—and I was positive he was—he would have a clear, unobstructed view of me, and there was no way I could see him. The wind was stronger here. It sent dry leaves skittering across the gravel and wrapped stray newspaper pages around the water tower’s concrete base. I had to go around the tower twice before I found the girder that had a piece of duct tape stuck to it. Just as I had been told, there was a narrow space between where the steel girder and the concrete met. I wedged the packet in it and walked back down.

  “I did what you told me to, you scum-sucking son of a bitch,” I yelled, hoping that Toon Town would show himself.

  He didn’t and, after a minute, I got in my car, drove out of the development, and over to the public telephone on Plum Street. I parked right by it. Then I sat and waited for the phone to ring.

  Chapter 26

  Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. I was supposed to have heard from Toon Town in five. I got out of the cab and checked to see if the phone was working. It was. I got back in the car and waited some more. I sat, suspended in an agony of anticipation, and chain smoked cigarette after cigarette, flicking the ashes out of the window as I watched a windblown beer can rolling around in the middle of the street, until it was crushed by a rap-blasting Caddy with tinted windows.

  Forty-five minutes later, my throat was raw from all the cigarettes I’d smoked, and I was still waiting. It looked as if Amy was either dead or on the road with Toon Town, and I sure as hell hoped it was the latter. My legs ached, as I climbed out of the cab again—sometimes sitting too long makes my burn scars stiffen—and I limped a little as I walked towards the phone. I paused to rub my calves, then I fished a quarter out of my pocket, put it in the slot, and called Tim and told him what had happened.

  “Jesus.” He repeated the word a second time. “What are you going to do now?”

  I had my answer ready. I ought to have. I’d spent the last forty-five minutes sitting in the car, trying to come up with a plan. “I’m going to check out the house on Easton Street. If they’re not there, I’m going to the police.”

  “Why do you think they’re going to go back there?” Tim asked.

  “Because they seem to keep returning to it.”

  “Maybe you should go to the police first.”

  “Checking out the house won’t take very long.” I hung up before Tim could say anything else. Then I got in the cab and drove over to the water tower.

  I just wanted t
o make sure the packet had been picked up. It had. I jumped back in the cab and sped down the road, surprising a fat sheltie and his owner on my way out. The sheltie’s indignant bark followed me as I made a left onto the main road. I clicked on the radio, then clicked it off, as I headed for the house that the Richmonds were selling. I knew I was playing a long shot, but I was hoping that Amy and Toon Town had stopped there to get their stuff before taking off to wherever they were going. If I were lucky, they might still be there. If they weren’t, I was going to have to call the police and tell them what had happened—a call I wasn’t exactly anxious to make. I imagined the conversation. No matter how I put it, I looked bad in every version I came up with. I decided it was better to think about other things.

  I could see the clouds coming in from the west as I drove. A wisp of grey obscured half, and then all, of the moon’s sliver. As I waited for the light to change, I wondered who was chasing Amy and how they knew about the diamonds. Had she told someone? Had Dennis talked before he died? And how did Melanie fit into all of this? I could think of several possible answers, none of which made more sense than any other one. Of course, Amy would know. Maybe she would even tell me—if she were still alive.

  I turned the radio back on and blasted 95.7 FM as loudly as I could, so I wouldn’t have to consider the other possibility. Nevertheless, I could feel my heart fluttering in my chest, as I turned onto Easton. Small one-family houses. Ghosts and goblins in the windows. Jack-o’-lanterns on the porches. Carefully tended patches of lawn. Compact cars and minivans in the driveways. A place for everything, and everything in its place. Except for the house I was visiting. A jogger, his breath fogging the night air, passed me, as I turned off the radio. I didn’t want to wake up the neighborhood.

  I’d driven about twenty feet, when I saw it: Toon Town’s Tracker. It was sitting in front of the house. Well, one thing lime-green has going for it: it’s visible. I guess he hadn’t figured on a life of crime when he’d chosen the color. Or maybe he just didn’t care. I parked down the street so Toon Town wouldn’t spot me, went around to the back, and opened the cab’s trunk. I heard the sounds of television programs floating out into the night air, as I took out a baseball bat and a can of mace and, for a few seconds, I thought about the times Murphy and I had been a family. But that was in another lifetime. Now he was gone, and I was prowling around in the night. And even if I went back to that tight little world of couples and dinner parties and Sunday afternoon errands, it wouldn’t be the same anymore. Too much had happened. I closed the trunk and concentrated on the task at hand.

  I was glad for the clouds, as I cut across the adjacent house’s lawn. It made me less visible—not that anyone looking out the window couldn’t see me—but since there wasn’t much I could do about that, I just hoped they weren’t looking. And they probably weren’t. Down in New York City, where I grew up, no matter what time of the day or night it was, there was always someone sitting on the stoop or gazing out the window. Not here, though. Here people pulled into their garages, walked in their houses, shut the doors, pulled down the blinds, and minded their own business. Most times, I didn’t like that. It made me feel isolated. But right now, I was thankful for their way of doing things.

  Ducking down and keeping to the shrubbery, I walked around the house. All the lights were off. Maybe Toon Town and Amy had gone to sleep. Poor dears. They were probably suffering from post-kidnapping exhaustion. I went into the house the same way I had before—through the kitchen window. I took the storm off, set it aside, lifted up the frame, held onto my bat, and wiggled through. Every sound I made, every creak of the wood, every squeak, every breath I took seemed to fill the whole house. I was positive that Toon Town must have heard me—how could he not have?—and I moved against the wall and gripped my bat with two hands and waited. But he didn’t come. After a minute of pretending I was a statue, I decided he wasn’t coming down the stairs, and I moved away from the wall. I began to feel a strange sense of exhilaration, as I tiptoed through the kitchen into the living room. This is what a cat burglar feels like, I thought, as I looked around.

  The room was exactly the way it was when the real estate agent had shown me around a couple of days ago. I walked into the dining room. Nothing had changed here, either. If Amy and Toon Town were here, they were probably asleep in the second bedroom. They had to be. It was the only room with a bed in it. I could hardly wait to see Amy’s face when I clicked on the light. I was moving towards the stairs when I heard something—something so faint I couldn’t make it out at first. It sounded like a mew, and then I thought maybe it was a groan, and then I wasn’t sure what it was. I held the bat tightly as I went up the stairs. The carpet absorbed my footsteps. I kept my back to the wall, my eyes glued to the second floor landing, but I couldn’t see anything up there. All the lights were off. The darkness was too dense. By the time I was halfway up the stairs, the mewing had subsided. When I got to the top step, I stopped and listened.

  Nothing.

  Then I heard a long drawn out groan. Then a moment of silence. Then a thud and another moan. Then more quiet. I cursed under my breath.

  It was a person, a person who was hurt. Amy? It had to be. I heard one more thud. It sounded as if she were banging up against a door or a wall. Had Toon Town locked her up? Where was he? Why wasn’t he responding? He had to be here. His car was parked outside. But then, why wasn’t he saying anything? I bit my lip and tightened my grip on the bat. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this at all. Nothing was adding up. Maybe I should have called the police. Unfortunately, it was too late to do that now. Especially if Amy was hurt. She might be dead by the time I got back.

  I hugged the wall as I crossed the landing. If Toon Town were here, I certainly didn’t want to let him know. The only thing I had going for me was the element of surprise. I’d just made it past the bathroom when I heard another moan. I cursed silently and quickly moved on to the first bedroom. I peered inside. By now my eyes had gotten used to the darkness. No one was there. I hurried on to the second bedroom, paused right outside the door, flattened my back against the wall, and listened. I heard a whistling noise. The sound of someone staggering. Then creaks. The sound of bedsprings groaning. Someone was sitting on the bed. Another moan. Softer this time.

  I took a deep breath, counted to five, raised the bat, and stepped inside.

  Chapter 27

  The first thing I saw was a hunched-over shape sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Amy?”

  But the moment the word left my mouth, I realized it couldn’t be her. The shape was too big. And then I realized who it was. Toon Town. I moved a little closer and lifted the bat a little higher. I wanted to be ready for whatever was going to happen.

  “Where is she?” I demanded.

  “She’s gone.” Toon Town lifted up his head. His voice sounded wet. He was lisping his words.

  When I turned on the light, I saw why. His mouth was full of blood. There were dark gaps where his front teeth should have been. His nose was mashed down. One eye was swollen shut. It was the size of an orange. He was wearing boxers and a tee shirt. His arms and legs were covered with purple bruises.

  I lowered my bat and asked him what had happened.

  He lifted his right hand. His pinky was hanging down. He coughed. A bubble of blood and phlegm dribbled down his chin. “I got into a fight with a truck.”

  “It must have been a big one. Did Amy do this?”

  Toon Town made a gurgling noise I thought might have been a laugh. “What do you think?”

  “I think someone beat the crap out of you.” I pointed to the open closet door. “And locked you in there.”

  “Very good.” He shifted his position. Then he grabbed his side and groaned. “Shit. I think I got some busted ribs.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Where did Amy go?”

  He formed the next words carefully. “They took her.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “I didn’t se
e. They came in when we were asleep.”

  “How many are we talking about here?”

  “I don’t know. I told you I was asleep.”

  “And they beat you up and stuffed you in the closet and took Amy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are the diamonds?”

  “They took them too.”

  “So why would they want Amy?”

  Toon Town coughed. “They didn’t tell me.”

  The wind was picking up outside. It rattled the windowpanes and tossed the cedar branches from side to side. “And you don’t know anything.”

  “That’s right.”

  I studied Toon Town’s ruined face. “You’re lying.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “I don’t have the vaguest idea.” I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, while I thought. “Amy took more stuff from her father’s apartment, didn’t she?” It was the only explanation that made any sense.

  Toon Town didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The way his body stiffened up told me everything I wanted to know.

  “How much money did Dennis Richmond have in his apartment?”

  Toon Town didn’t say anything.

  “It must have been a lot.”

  Toon Town coughed again. A line of blood-colored saliva dripped onto his sleeve. He didn’t notice.

  “Amy knows where it is, right?”

  Toon Town tried to shrug. He ended up clutching his ribs and groaning instead.

  “This kidnap thing was a scam, wasn’t it?”

  Toon Town studied the wall in back of me.

  “You guys thought you’d get me to give you the diamonds and then you’d leave town.”

  “We were gonna call and explain from the road.” Toon Town’s tone implied that that would have made everything all right.

  “Why didn’t you just come in and get them?”

  “We were afraid we’d be spotted.”

  “By whom?”

  Toon Town went back to studying the wall.