Cool Demise

by Stanley Sauerwein

  Nancy removed a sculpted amethyst crystal pendulum, hung on a thin gold chain, from a tiny cloth pouch in her purse. “Mel, you should know people around here think I’m crazy,” she said sadly. “But I’m not. I really can see auras, and sometimes I sense things, but that doesn’t make me crazy.” She pursed her lips and held the pendulum in front of her, dangling the chain from the first three fingers of her left hand. “I’m more sensitive than the average person, you know?”

  I nodded and tried to smile.

  “I’ve been using the pendulum to answer questions for years and it’s mostly been right.”

  “You think the pendulum can tell us who the killer was?” I nervously braided my hair into one long plait over my shoulder as she spoke. “And I don’t think you’re crazy, Nancy. Just so you know.”

  She gave me an angelic smile. “We need more information. This pendulum only gives me yes and no answers. We’d have to ask about everyone in town. Ask if they were the killer. And chances are good we’d make mistakes. But there is one person I know who seems to have her finger on everybody else’s business and that’s Joan Clark. She’s the worst gossip in Glacier.” Nancy dangled the pendulum and asked a question. “Can Joan Clark give us more information about Mrs. Podeski’s murder?”

  It took a moment but the pendulum swung in a wide circle towards the right. Nancy smiled. “It’s definite. It says yes.”

  “I’ve never met Joan Clark,” I said.

  “That’s only a matter of time. She would’ve made herself obvious to you pretty soon. The pendulum says talk to her. But I have to give you fair warning. You’ll need to let your hair down a little.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nancy tore a sheet from her order pad, scribbled on the back, and passed me the piece of paper. “This is how you get to her house. It’s not far and I suggest you walk.” I furrowed my brow, not understanding, but accepted the warning.

  “Will she meet with me, do you think?”

  “Does a bear …” Nancy knew she didn’t need to finish her sentence.

  Joan Clark lived in a tidy one-story home a few blocks from The Grind on Jones Avenue. There were two large pine trees in the front yard as Nancy had described for me in her note.

  As Su-Jitzu and I walked to Joan’s, the dog sniffed picket fences where roses budded, and I talked to myself. What am I doing? Why would I think I can solve this mystery and save Uncle Barney? This is crazy! I walked slowly and replayed the memory of my visit to Mrs. Podeski’s house over and over again in my mind. What was Allan been so eager to retrieve? Why was Su-Jitzu so aggressive? Could the chief be right? Have Barney and Mrs. Podeski been having an affair for years? I wondered what other hidden things about Barney there were that I didn’t know. After all those years away, I had no idea if he had a secret life. How could I tell? I wasn’t close enough to him to ask any questions. When I’d visited him at the police station, the only thing I thought to ask was if he needed anything. Surely the police hadn’t given up on the other suspects even if they had alibis. There aren’t any secrets in a small town. The truth will come out. I knew that. I hoped that talking to Joan Clark would reveal something else. Anything I could use to free Uncle Barney. Sorting out my own future will have to wait.

  Joan was a short woman aged somewhere between sixty and seventy. Nancy had told me that she rented rooms in her basement to men who worked at the Tok coal mine near Glacier. And she said Joan maintained an active gossip network. She attended the women’s group at the church and volunteered in the senior citizens’ center serving lunches and dinners. Then there was her Bridge club, her walking club, and the fact she devoted most afternoons to wandering in the local shopping mall, chatting with whoever was there.

  When I got to her house and climbed the concrete steps, I noticed a new Jeep parked in the driveway. She’s doing okay for herself, I guess. A quick glance at the garage showed its folding door wasn’t down all the way. I caught the gleam of what looked like a truck bumper in the darkness. Two vehicles? One of her tenants? I lifted a heavy door knocker shaped like a horseshoe and stepped back, waiting. It only took a moment for Joan to appear. She seemed to be opening the door without the slightest concern for who might be lurking on her stoop, or else she’d peeked out the window and had already seen me.

  Joan had permed hair, tinted light brown but showing grey at the roots. She wore a long-sleeved cotton shirt that was buttoned at the cuffs, a modest A-line skirt, and fluffy pink mules on her feet.

  “Yes?”

  I extended my hand. “My name is Melanie Willoughby. I’m Barney Camping’s niece. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

  Joan’s face exploded in a huge smile. “I heard you were back in town. Of course,” she said, “come on in.”

  I followed Joan into her living room and took a seat on one of the two easy tub chairs Joan had arranged around a large glass-covered wagon wheel serving as a coffee table. I noticed the door to her bedroom hallway was closed. When Joan sat down opposite me, I cleared my throat. “It’s so nice of you to talk to me but I feel a little awkward.” I undid the buttons on the light nylon jacket I was wearing and eased back into my seat. “Have you heard about Mrs. Podeski?”

  “Of course. Everybody in town knows they picked up Barney. Quite a surprise the way she died. How can I help you?” How the heck does she know about Uncle Barney or how Mrs. Podeski died?

  Jean clucked her tongue and clapped her hands. “Where are my manners? Would you like some tea? Or coffee? I’ve got both. Or maybe something a little stronger considering all that’s happened.”

  “I get my fill of coffee at The Grind,” I said with a chuckle.

  “I’ll bet you do. Let’s tap the admiral then. Give me a minute.”

  I waited nervously, uncertain what Joan meant. “When I heard about Barney I thought that’s plain unfair,” she said from the kitchen. “That has to be a travesty of justice if you ask me.”

  I didn’t answer, waiting for her to return. “That’s sort of why I’m here,” I began as she re-entered the living room with two crystal tumblers and a bottle of rye whiskey. “I’m really concerned about my uncle and I’m trying to find out a little more about Mrs. Podeski’s death. People said if anybody in town could help, it would be you.”

  Joan beamed. “Well it’s a police matter.” she said. She poured two fingers of whisky into each glass and then held one up for a toast. “I’m sure you could use a little nip about now. How’s Barney handling all this?”

  I didn’t want to drink but felt refusing might spoil my chances of getting information. “As well as you’d expect, I guess.” I clinked glasses with the older woman and took a tiny sip of the golden liquor. “The police haven’t said much except they know he went there and he might’ve done something to Mrs. Podeski.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Joan’s glass made a loud clink as she set it down on the glass table. “Now I hope you don’t take this wrong, Melanie, but he and Utta Podeski have been carrying on for years. It’s been the talk of the town.” Joan offered a small, shallow laugh. “He was over there whenever Pavel was away.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you could tell me more about. What was Mrs. Podeski like?”

  “That’s a long story, Good for a couple of these.” She retrieved her glass and took a big swig of the rye. “Let’s see. I’ve lived here all my life. I’ve known Utta Podeski all that time. She’d always been a bit of sliver in everyone’s thumb, even as a school kid. Once she started baking for Barney, she actually seemed to mellow. It wasn’t long after she started helping him that everyone knew something was going on.” Joan tapped her glass with a fingernail and squinted. “She’d stay at the café for hours after a Barney’s bakery day. You can ask the woo-woo girl all about that. She’d know. No one said anything to Utta’s face naturally, but there was lots of talk behind her back. And then there was gossip that her husband Pavel was also having an affair.” Jean sipped again. She said the word ‘affair�
�� with an air of gentility, like it was a positive word. Better than saying he was playing around.

  “You’re not much of a drinker, I see,” she said.

  “I don’t drink much, but I’m grateful for this. It hits the spot.”

  Joan smiled. “That’s good. A little tap of the admiral is always welcome at times like this.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Oh.” Joan giggled. “The story is that when Admiral Nelson was being taken back to England after he was killed at Waterloo, they put his body in a cask of rum so it wouldn’t spoil. During the journey, sailors would steal a nip from the barrel. They called it tapping the admiral.” She shrugged.

  “So they were both having affairs?” I asked, easing her back on point.

  “I’m not one to gossip,” Joan said. “Everyone watched pretty close when Pavel Podeski came to town though. Too close for my liking.”

  “Where did he usually go?”

  Joan looked down on her blouse and brushed away lint that wasn’t there. “Now why on earth should I know that?” She tugged the fabric, pressing out wrinkles. She has a secret. I thought of Ben Franklin: “Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”

  What I’d asked had been unnecessarily nosy. I was suddenly embarrassed for her. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Joan sipped. “You weren’t. It’s old news.”

  “Did Mrs. Podeski know he was having an affair?”

  “I’d guess she did. A wife always knows, doesn’t she? But I’d also guess she ignored it for obvious reasons. I mean if she was playing fancy with Barney she really had no grounds to be upset about Pavel, did she?”

  “Did her husband know she was having an affair too?”

  “That’s the comical thing,” Joan said, chuckling. “Not that I know.” She gave an involuntary glance to the closed hallway door and then quickly refocused on my face when she saw that I’d noticed. “Pavel is a gentleman and very kind, but he isn’t the brightest lamp in the store. No one wanted to hurt his feelings by telling him about Utta and Barney. I mean, we all knew but no-one liked to openly discuss it. She looked at the door again, this time not looking back at me. “Utta sort of ran Pavel’s life,” she said wistfully. “She liked bossing him around.” She finally looked back into my eyes. “When her son, Allan, started causing a fuss at school, she pulled him out against Pavel’s wishes. Homeschooled him. That turned him into a little demon with no sense of right or wrong as far as I’m concerned. But as I said, Pavel is a gentle type and he went along with it. He spent his time working hard and ignoring Utta’s attempts at teaching. Then she started cleaning houses which was always a big mystery to me.” Joan topped up my glass with more rye even though I’d only sipped once or twice. I knew that if I didn’t drink soon, my glass might get filled to the rim, so I did and winced at the burning taste.

  “Why was that such a mystery?”

  “Neither of those things, the baking she did for Barney or the cleaning, paid all that well, I’d guess, but Utta always seemed to have ready cash. And it was odd, you know? She cleaned all sorts of houses in town but she never did any of them for long.”

  “I heard she worked for the dentist for a while,” I prodded.

  “Now that was a piece of gossip gold,” Joan said, snorting. “Word was she was fired for stealing but the dentist never charged her. And from that point on she was really, really mean to him and he never did a thing about it. It was the strangest situation I’ve ever seen.”

  I struggled with my rye and managed another swallow.

  “You want my honest opinion?” Joan leaned forward. She evidently believed she’d found a new gossip confidant in me. “I think she got what was coming. She was always in the middle of any bad things happening in Glacier. If she was killed it’s no surprise, considering the number of lives she’s ruined.”

  “Oh?” I held my breath. “How did she ruin people’s lives?”

  “Let’s say she always seemed to be in the middle of a muddle. Never far off from sticking her nose in or poking the fire to make some flames.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind me saying, you seem to be a little upset with her too.”

  Joan smiled wistfully. “You could say so.” She slumped, and was visibly withdrawing, so I tried to repair things.

  “Sorry. I’m being nosy again. I didn’t mean to be.” I stood up. “Thanks for your help and the drink, Joan. I better get back to The Grind.” I buttoned my coat and made my way to her door. Joan didn’t try to stop me.

  On the steps leading from the house, I scanned the yard for Su-Jitzu. When I called and he didn’t appear, I turned to Joan. “That’s strange. He’s usually scratching to follow me in.”

  Joan sniffed the air. “Might have found a skunk. I’ve got the damn buggers around here. I do my best to get rid of them but they seem to always come back.”

  I wandered into the yard’s soft green grass and finally found Su-Jitzu lying in a corner by the back fence. “What you been into, Su?” I went over and checked around him, but finding nothing amiss attached his leash, then waved to Joan who was still standing at the doorway.

  “Did he eat anything?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, perplexed.

  “I wasn’t thinking and should have told you. I bait those damn skunks.”

  I carefully examined Su’s mouth and looked around again. There didn’t seem to be any signs of bait. “You should have told me,” I said a bit angrily.

  “I’m sorry,” Joan replied. “I didn’t know you brought that rat hound of yours.” With that she lifted her chin in the air and went back inside.

  As I entered the front door to the café I saw Bill leaning on the display case talking to Nancy, who was refilling sugar containers. Bill looked uncomfortable.

  “What are you two up to now?” I asked.

  “We’ve been waiting for you to get back,” said Nancy.

  Bill held up his copy of Moby Dick. “Would you like this back or maybe make a trade?”

  “Bookmarks isn’t a library,” I answered coldly.

  “ I just thought …” He looked at his feet. “Never mind. I’ll buy another book.”

  I felt a pang of guilt for being so surly. Bill was handsome and so polite. It was obvious he was trying to calm the waters between us and had been worried about how I’d react. Nancy stood at the display case with her arms crossed, soaking our little scene in with very apparent glee.

  “I’ll let you switch it for another if you promise to buy the next one,” I relented. I let Su-Jitzu loose and, with the leash in my hand, turned on the lights to the bookstore.

  Bill followed me in but hesitated at the doorway. He carefully slid his copy of Moby Dick beside the cash register and turned towards the bookshelves without a word.

  “Have you heard about Uncle Barney?”

  Bill turned towards me and nodded. I could tell his frown was heartfelt, creasing his cheeks with frozen furrows. “He didn’t kill her,” he said with certainty.

  “But they think he might be guilty.”

  “I know. There’s no way he did anything. He cared for her.”

  I watched Bill trace a finger along the books as he walked down the aisle. I didn’t know whether to talk more about Barney or not, though there were so many questions I wanted to ask. I wondered if everyone in town really knew Uncle Barney was having an affair or if it was a group assumption mistaken for the real thing.

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Definitely. He told me once. Said she was really a nice person once you got to know her. He was trying to get me to forgive her.”

  I asked him what he had to forgive her for, already knowing the answer.

  “It’s a long story,” was all he’d say. He had a brooding, distant demeanor. It was like he was trying to hide his feelings about what happened. He obviously felt hurt and angry about it. I found myself drawn to his vulnerability. I checked myself and moved away, asking why I was
having those feelings anyway. I didn’t even know this guy. Why should I care if what happened was troubling him? He was too quiet, even taciturn. Maybe I was attracted because he showed so little interest in me. I wasn’t used to being ignored that way by a man. Ready for another betrayal, Mel? I scolded myself. Can’t I ever learn? But—I have to speak to him. He had reasons to hurt Mrs. Podeski. I turned back and followed him down the aisle, deciding to tackle things head on. “Where were you the night Mrs. Podeski died?”

  He stopped abruptly and stood in silence. Finally, he spoke with a hint of anger. “At home alone,” he said, “and that’s what I told the police too.”

  “The police questioned you?”

  He chuckled in a dispirited way. “They’ve questioned anyone and everyone they think had something against her. I’m just one of many.” He held out his hands as if he was conceding an argument. “I didn’t have anything to do with any of this. I can’t prove I was home, but the cops can’t prove I wasn’t either. So, it’s a stalemate. You can believe me or not.”

  “Pick any book you want,” I said. My voice was sad. Tired. “I had to ask because I’m told you had a good reason to hurt her. My uncle Barney certainly didn’t and he’s the one in jail, so don’t expect me to be friendly.”

  “What reason would I have?”

  “You had to pay her money every month.”

  “A hundred dollars! That’s hardly enough to kill somebody over.” He looked hurt as he stared at me. “I’m worried about Barney too, you know. We’re friends.”

  I wanted to reach out to him, hug him and say I was sorry. “I’m confused.”

  He nodded and returned to his book search. I left him in Bookmarks and wandered into The Grind with a heavy sigh, sitting at one of the empty tables. Nancy ignored the fact there were customers and came immediately to my side, putting an arm over my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, hon,” she said with soft compassion. “Why don’t you go upstairs and have another soak? I brought some bath salts. We can talk all about what Joan said over dinner at my place tonight.”