“It’s hard to imagine those two with enough brain power to muster up one thought let alone this whole mess. But, you’d be surprised,” Hanky mused aloud, then added, “Sully seems to have the most to lose if Sandra got handrails.”
“Sandra told me she used to stop at that CluckIt before her car self-combusted. She said she used to see Charles Ballon when she went there. Charles Ballon used to go to Sully’s bar,” I said, “and he paid attention to Sandra, even offering or suggesting rather, if he won the Sandra nose dive pool, he would put up handrails on her home. Sandra told me he went there to see her and even asked her out a few times. Charles was also calling a phone sex line and, I bet Sully is the one who gave him the number before Charles started hitting on Sandra. I think Charles chatted Sandra up, or followed her after she started going to the CluckIt on the way home.”
Hanky added, “And maybe he figured out she was at the other end of the phone sex line he was calling. We just did. Sully couldn’t have liked that.”
“Sully told Sandra that Charles was a trannie—his words were ‘bats for both teams’—so she wouldn’t be interested. But, Charles kept coming to the bar looking for Sandra,” I said. We both stopped to think. “I can see Sully doesn’t like the fact that he could lose Sandra as the cash cow to Charles. So, he takes out Charles, but why the other CluckIt worker he shot and killed there?” I asked.
“That guy… or gal… the person in the dress who was shot that night… could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was shot by mistake, or to scare this Charles guy into going with the murderer.” Hanky said. “I thought you said a woman pulled him out that window.”
“No, I said someone in a miniskirt and high heels. I didn’t see him up close or for very long, but he hauled Charles out the window with him without much effort. The CluckIt workers told me it was a man dressed as a woman,” I said.
“I bet it was tough in high heels and a miniskirt even for a man,” Hanky said.
“The palm reader found floating in the French Quarter was Sandra’s rival. Maybe Sully takes out the palm reader to keep Sandra working at a job she doesn’t like so she keeps coming to the bar after work. When I first met Sandra, she told me she used to release all of her negative energy she got from reading palms in her car on her way home. After her car blew up from all the negative energy that couldn’t escape because she kept the window rolled up for the air conditioning, she directed all of it at the rival palm reader.”
Hanky scrunched up her face saying, “Negative energy at a rival palm reader? That’s a new one.”
I continued, “Sully used to live here with Fara Theriot. The landlord told me he didn’t know where Fara Theriot moved to. He remembered she told him she grew up in foster care which doesn’t add up to the note she sent him saying she had to move back home for a family matter. I think the box of rings I found hidden under the floorboards in my closet belonged to her. They’re expensive, heirloom opals, according to Jiff.”
“Jiff. Right. Mr. Weekend?” Hanky looked up from her notes.
“He’s trying to help me track down the owner,” I said.
Hanky held up one hand, trying to scribble in her notebook with the other, “What rings? Why didn’t you bring them to the police to lift prints?”
I filled Hanky in on the rings saying I thought they had been hidden and forgotten. “If Sully got Fara Theriot to let him stay here, I bet it was to hustle her out of anything of value. Maybe Fara realized Sully was stealing from her and she hid them.”
Hanky said, “Maybe we take a run again at your landlord, what’s his name, Chauvin?” I gave Hanky his name and number, but she said, “It would be better if you called and asked him again. Maybe he remembered something he didn’t tell you about last time. See if you can find out when Sully lived here. If he isn’t cooperative, I’ll go interrogate him.”
“Interrogate Mr. Chauvin?” I wondered what that would entail. “He isn’t the kind who is detail-oriented to begin with. Even if you water board him, you are only gonna get what he has heard. He doesn’t keep records. We never filled in an application, I only got a lease because I hounded him for one, and we mail the rent in money orders to keep our own records. He will, however, talk your arm off.”
“Well, call and chat him up,” Hanky said. “But don’t tell him what’s going on in the backyard just yet. Act like you have to hurry off the line and say you will call him back. I don’t want him freaking out and running over here before we get this all together.”
“He already gave me Fara Theriot’s name and said she was the girl who lived here right before us,” I said.
“Call and ask him if someone named Opal ever lived here,” Hanky said.
“I asked him that. He said he never rented to anyone named Opal. Remember how Sully reacted when I said Sandra mentioned someone named Opal didn’t like the cats? The rings we found are opals,” I said.
“Maybe dingbat Sandra called Fara Theriot Opal because she still had those rings on the brain to steal. Do you think they are still here somewhere?” Hanky asked.
“I bet those two cleaned out this house and kept what they wanted. I bet they did it to keep Chauvin from going through her things and finding them,” I said.
“That’s possible,” Hanky said. “Well, that’s easy enough to find out.” She pulled out her cell and made a call. I heard her asking to run all complaints for this address and for Sandra’s address across the street going back a year. Hanky looked at me to give her a non-verbal approval on the timeframe she asked for. I nodded in agreement. “Uh huh. Call me back at this number as soon as you get it and do a search on any names associated with the complaints.”
She hung up. No goodbyes, no thank you, just dial tone. I thought she could do with some phone etiquette training, just like Dante.
I dialed my landlord’s number. “Hello, Mr. Chauvin. Brandy Alexander here. Just want to make sure you got my rent and also to let you know I never found Fara Theriot to let her know what you said about the deposit. I’ll just hang onto her things I found and if she gets in touch with you, please let me know.”
He said he would and was trying to beg off the line when I stopped him, “Wait, just one more thing, please. Was the guy who works at the bar near here ever one of your tenants?”
“Oh, that guy. I know he mooched staying with Fara now and then, but I let her know he wasn’t what I wanted living in that house. He’s a rough character, but Fara felt sorry for him. I asked her ‘why is a decent girl like you letting that guy stay with you?’ She told me she knew him and his sister since childhood. They all were in a foster home together as kids.”
“You said he used to live here. Do you think he knows how to get in touch with Fara Theriot?” I asked.
“I would call that bar and ask him. He’s a rough character, and I don’t think you would want to go there, especially alone,” he said.
“Yes, you’re right. I’ll call there,” I said, rolling my eyes at Hanky. Her cell phone rang and she took it. “I wonder how long he lived here, or if she had any other roommates? This is a two bedroom and I just thought that seemed like a lot of rent and space for just one person.”
“She wanted two bedrooms because she used one as a studio,” Chauvin said.
“A studio?” I asked trying to coax more from him.
“She painted New Orleans scenes,” he said. “I saw some of her work when I went to do repairs. I thought she was really good. She told me she traded her paintings at second hand stores for furniture and things to make her feel like she inherited them from the family she never had. It was kinda sad.”
“That is sad,” I said.
Just when I thought it was all I was going to get out of Mr. Chauvin, he said, “I got nervous when I thought I saw a gun there. I thought it belonged to Sully. That’s when I told her he had to go. She was too classy for him. She moved out shortly after I said Sully had to go.”
I felt perspiration on my forehead and my legs getting rubbery
making it hard to stand. I went to my dining room table and sat down. Hanky was still talking on her cell and taking notes.
“Was it a real gun?” I asked him.
“No, it was some old Victorian type weapon but she said it didn’t shoot,” he said. “It had a funny name. I forgot what Fara called it. Well, thanks for trying to find her.” He was about to hang up.
“Steampunk?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s it. How did you guess that?”
“It’s the new thing to collect.” I said. “Thanks again. I’ll let you know when I find her. Bye now.”
I hung up with Mr. Chauvin. Hanky said a few un huh’s and jotted some notes down. She hung up, abruptly. She looked at me and at the same time we both said, “Wait until you hear what I found out.”
“You first,” said Hanky.
“Mr. Chauvin had been here to do repairs for Fara Theriot and said she had lots of nice things, but he thought he saw a gun here and that’s when he told Fara that Sully had to go. Only it wasn’t a gun. It was a Steampunk collectible like one I saw in Sandra’s house, right across the street. It’s called a Fizziwig Blaster,” I said.
“A what?”
“It’s a fake old gun, but it’s rather interesting looking—unforgettable.” I filled her in on everything Mr. Chauvin just told me and said, “I saw the gun thing when I went there to have her read my palm. Sandra had to tell me what it was. She said it was a Fizziwig Blaster, a Victorian steampunk collectible, and I’m thinking it’s the same one Mr. Chauvin just described that Fara Theriot had. What are the odds that two people have the same unusual piece and live across the street from one another—and one of them is Sandra?”
“Maybe this Fara gal gave it to Sandra,” Hanky said, as she wrinkled her forehead.
“Here’s the kicker.” I said, feeling smug. “Mr. Chauvin told me Fara had known Sully and his sister from when they were all kids together—in foster care. When she told him the landlord said he had to leave, Sully said he’d probably move back in with his sister. So, Sully must have seen Sandra fall in the bushes if he lived here. Maybe he lifted the Blaster, the gun-like thing, and gave it to Sandra to sweet talk her into the hedge fund.”
“This just gets better and better. The complaints about the cat lady came from the same address where the cat lady lives, Sandra’s house,” Hanky said. The lines on her forehead were getting deeper as she spoke.
“I thought that didn’t make sense until I gave the clerk on duty this address and asked if any came from here. The clerk who did the search said there were several complaints over three months and they were all called in from both addresses by someone who only left a first name. Samantha. A car was sent to her home twice to tell Sandra complaints were made but the notes said she didn’t answer the door, or wasn’t home. The officers dispatched wrote up they spoke to a man who said he lived there and they assumed he was her husband.”
“I don’t think Sandra’s ever been married, and I don’t think she lives with anyone,” I said.
“You’re right, never married, but she does live with someone,” Hanky said. “And you’ll never guess who.”
“Who? I’ve never seen anyone going in or out except Sandra and the day I went over there it only looked like she lived alone. I didn’t search any lockers, drawers or medicine cabinets.” I said, thinking the records clerk had it all messed up.
The condition of records in the city of New Orleans was horrific on a good day and recently there had been a computer meltdown (with no backup) where a lot of data was lost or destroyed. I thought maybe the meltdown had also scrambled the police records.
“Do you know Sandra’s last name?” Hanky asked me. When I shook my head no, she said, “I do.”
“What is it?”
“Sullivan. I had the clerk pull Sullivan’s driver’s license. Seems Sandra Sullivan has a twin named Samuel Sullivan, aka Sam, aka Sully. They both served time for theft, drugs and aggravated battery…and his driver’s license has Sandra’s address as his domicile, lower unit. Sully is living in her basement.”
“Sam? Sam is Sully? And her brother? He lives in her basement?” I blurted out in disbelief. I sunk down onto the sofa. “Who’s Samantha?
“You’re the one who said it was all connected. Sully—Sandra’s twin brother—also has a rap sheet in the name of Samantha Sullivan, a transvestite.” Hanky put her notepad in her jacket pocket. “They both have been arrested using multiple aliases, all over this state. Sam, or Sully, did time for assault and battery on a man Sandra was found guilty running a con on. The man asked for his money back and Sully almost beat him to death. Homicide isn’t a big jump.”
I thought, nutty, tree hugging Sandra? Sully, I could see him as a criminal, but Sandra? There was a knock at the door. I looked at Hanky and said, “That’s probably my attorney. Jiff called his dad to represent me.”
“Answer it. First, where is Suzanne’s room?”
“Her room is upstairs toward the back of the house. Her purse, wallet and cell phone are right where she left them.” Hanky went off to find Suzanne’s room upstairs while I went to answer my front door.
“I’m Brandy. You must be Mr. Heinkel?” I said opening the door.
“Yes. I’m glad to finally meet you, and sorry it’s like this. Jiff has told us a lot about you.” He grabbed my extended hand and put both of his around mine as he spoke to me. I saw where the Heinkel charm came from. “Okay, let me go talk to Jiff and the police. You have nothing to worry about. I’ll handle everything.”
I showed him the way to the backyard where a number of the police department were still coming and going. He told me to wait inside.
Hanky came downstairs with something in her blazer pocket bulging. She excused herself and went out the front door. She just missed seeing Mr. Heinkel. When she came back in she didn’t say a word and went right back upstairs. This time when she came down, her pockets were back to normal.
She went to sit on the sofa like she was keeping an eye on me but made one call. I heard her telling someone that Detective Deedler wanted all the Sullivan records pulled and put on his desk immediately. I heard Hanky tell the clerk she would brief Detective Deedler on the information the clerk had found. She would tell Detective Deedler he could find it all on his desk, so make sure they got there…now. Then, she hung up…without saying goodbye.
Jiff, Mr. Heinkel, Dante and the Captain came back inside and I introduced Hanky to Mr. Heinkel.
“I didn’t see you when I came in,” he said.
“I was in the bathroom,” she said. “Dante, Captain, can I have a word?” The three of them went out the front door to pow wow while Jiff, Mr. Heinkel and I had our own brief chat.
“They don’t think you have anything to do with the body buried out back, so you can relax on that,” Mr. Heinkel said, again grabbing one of my hands and encasing it in both of his. He looked at Jiff and said, “Stay with this pretty lady, and she is not to talk to any of the police or the D.A. unless you or I are present, understand?” Jiff agreed.
When Mr. Heinkel looked back at me he said, “Understand…no one without one of us?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hanky opened the front door and walked in ahead of the Captain and Dante. Dante asked me when was the last time I saw Suzanne. I told him about her going to the bar with Sandra one night after work and the timeline yesterday with the phone call and hearing Sully at our front door trying to return a sweater under the pretense that she left it at the bar. I heard her tell him it wasn’t hers. When I came home I saw a sweater on the side of the house hanging on the fence. He might have left it there.
“Do you mind showing us her room and letting us take an article of her clothing? I want to see if the cadaver dogs can pick-up her scent, or a direction she left or was taken,” Dante said.
“The cadaver dogs?” I almost started crying.
“They also do search and rescue. I want to see if they can get a scent from something of hers and follow it,
” Dante added.
“Do you still have that sweater?” Hanky asked. “It should have Sully’s scent on it.”
“That might be it hanging on the fence. It should still be there, I don’t think Suzanne touched it and I didn’t.” I mustered up the courage to ask the collective group from N.O.P.D, “Who is that you found in my backyard?”
Dante looked at his Captain who answered, “Ms. Alexander, we don’t have a positive identification yet. I can tell you it is a female who had blonde hair, and it looked like she was wearing some kind of lab coat with paint on it, the kind artists wear. That’s all we know. Do you have any idea who it might be?”
“Fara Theriot,” I answered after getting the nod from Jiff. Hanky was nodding her head as if in absent agreement, but I took it as a signal she was giving me the OK to go on. “I called my landlord to ask who lived here before me. My landlord gave me her name.”
“Did he tell you, or did you find out anything else about her?” Dante asked.
“He said she left unexpectedly. She sent money to clean and empty this house when she had already left it clean and empty,” I said. “He told me she mailed a note saying she was going home for a family crisis.”
“Did he say what kind of family crises? That’s not unusual if she wasn’t from here,” Dante said while he scribbled on his notepad.
“He thought that was odd since she told him she grew up in foster care,” I said.
“Huh,” Dante said while writing notes. Then he looked up at me waiting for me to go on.
“He also said she let the bartender from the corner bar stay here sometimes. Mr. Chauvin said she didn’t refer to him as her boyfriend, but as a friend she knew from childhood. Mr. Chauvin said he didn’t like the guy because he thought he was bad news and told Fara he didn’t want him living here,” I said.
“You know the name of the bartender?” Dante asked.
Drive Thru Murder Page 22
