Cool Demise

by Stanley Sauerwein

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “When it comes right down to it, I wouldn’t have cared. All Barney had to do was tell me. He would have been welcome to her as far as I’m concerned. We only stuck together for Allan’s sake.”

  He looked at me and began to say more but thought better of it. I could clearly understand the chief’s problem questioning him. “I got nothing more to tell you,” he said.

  “I talked to Jean,” I answered. I watched for his reaction. It wasn’t what I expected because he smiled.

  “What did Jeanie say?”

  “Just that there were rumors about you too.”

  He laughed. First it was a chuckle but it built force to a belly laugh.

  “That you had someone else too.”

  Pavel looked at me, his smile still pasted. “What if I did?”

  “Is that what you meant? You shoulda?” I asked.

  He stared at me. He looked as if he had some deep pain he wanted to release but couldn’t bring himself to let go. I held my breath, waiting. He rubbed at his forehead, as if to pull the words forward. “Utta and I didn’t get along. Hadn’t for a long time. I found someone else quite a while back but I only got up the courage to tell Utta last week. And I didn’t know about Bill and her so that’s not the reason.”

  I leaned forward, nodded and frowned, trying to stay casual about his sudden honesty.

  “I told her I wanted a divorce but she laughed at me.”

  “You told her about your…” I paused, searching for the right word. “Friend?”

  He nodded. “Made her laugh even more. Said I didn’t set my sights very high.”

  “What happened then?”

  “She said there was no way she’d give me a divorce and if I asked again she’d make sure everyone in town knew what I’d been up to. ‘I’ll ruin that home wrecker’s life,’ she said. ‘Dump her or I’ll take you both for every dime you got!’” He turned back to his beer. “She was always smarter than me. I knew she meant it.”

  I felt myself swollen with pity for this simple man. “She was doing the same thing.”

  He sighed and nodded. “But I didn’t know. I figured she had me pinned to the wall like she always did. Utta was always pretty cagey. Always a step ahead.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  He stared at his beer and said no more.

  I stirred the ice in my glass with my straw, pausing to think. “People in this town are snoops. They’re always watching everyone else.”

  Pavel nodded and sipped.

  “I talked to someone who said maybe your wife was …” I stopped myself. “Do you think your wife made more money that she ought to have from her baking and house cleaning?”

  “I don’t know what she made. She never told me.”

  “You never wondered?”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m wondering who else might have had a reason to hurt her.”

  Pavel chuckled. “Lots. Utta didn’t make friends easy.”

  I slumped. I was amazed that Pavel had told me his secrets but even knowing them made me feel powerless. I couldn’t ask more about his affair or his relationship with his wife without being callous or worse. My bout of questioning wasn’t going at all like I hoped it would.

  He finished his beer and made to get up from his bar stool.

  “Please don’t go.” I reached over and held his arm. “I still need some answers.”

  “There are no more. Your uncle killed my wife.”

  I reacted like I’d been slapped. “No, he didn’t! He loved her!”

  Pavel stared at me, frozen.

  “Well he did love her, and I’m sorry he did and you didn’t, but that’s the truth,” I said. I stared into his eyes.

  Pavel shook his head. “I don’t know why he killed her. I don’t care. The chief told me Barney was the last person to see her. They got a witness. It has to be him.”

  “Did you catch them together, Pavel?”

  He slid all the way off his stool and stepped towards me. He smiled. “If he had told me, I’d have thanked him, but I didn’t come home until morning.”

  “You’ve got motel receipts. I know. Barney’s lawyer told me. But something really puzzles me, Pavel. When you got home and couldn’t find Utta, what made you think to look in the freezer?”

  He leaned in even closer. “I wasn’t looking for her.” He laughed to himself. “I was happy she was gone.” He tugged up his pants. “I was getting some of the frozen orange juice we kept in the freezer. That’s how I found her.”

  “How awful,” I said sincerely. “So, if it wasn’t you and it wasn’t my uncle, it had to be someone else, right? Who could have wanted to hurt Utta? Why put her body in the freezer?” My voice died in a sigh.

  Pavel spun abruptly towards the door. “I got no more answers to anything.”

  I slid off my seat and rushed to block his exit, putting one hand to his chest. He roughly pushed me aside.

  “Allan must have known about my uncle. Why wouldn’t he have told you?”

  Pavel snorted.

  “Lots of people in town knew what was going on, but no one told you?”

  “This horse trough of a town likes to keep its scum hidden. No. No one told me. They all had a good time laughing behind my back though, I’m pretty sure.”

  I was struggling to find a way to ask the questions I knew still had to be asked. I wish I was more like the detective I’m pretending to be!

  “Please stay.”

  He looked me up and down, considering, and then relented. “Okay,” he said finally. “None of this is your fault any more than it’s mine.”

  I thanked him and held his arm as we moved back to the bar, but the time it took for the bartender to bring us more drinks was excruciating. I was fearful that Pavel would change his mind and get up and leave. I’d used up ways to get him to stay.

  We sat for a moment in silence. “You’ve got a nice farm,” I said as an opener, sipping my soda.

  “Mostly hay. I raise some chickens too.”

  “Is that what you were doing the day she died? Delivering hay or chickens to Eugene?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Chickens.”

  “Did you go out of town a lot? On deliveries?”

  “At least once a month,” he said. He fiddled with his beer glass and took several swallows, nearly draining it. I raised my hand to the bartender and ordered him another.

  “Thanks,” he said when it arrived.

  “Pavel, I don’t believe my uncle killed your wife, and I don’t believe you did either. But somebody must have had a good reason. Don’t get mad at me, but I have to ask this. Did she and Allan get along?”

  He nodded his head. “They were the same. He wouldn’t hurt her. She was …the boss.”

  “They never fought or argued?”

  He shook his head again, fervently. “She gave him money, let him do whatever he felt like. He’d have no reason.”

  With that question, he got off his stool, leaving the rest of his new beer untouched. This time I knew he meant to leave.

  Nancy was playing with Su-Jitzu when I arrived back at The Grind. The café was empty so she was taking the time to enjoy some sun on the front lawn.

  “So what happened? Did you tell the chief?”

  I sat on the grass and Su immediately perched in my lap. As I petted him, I nodded.

  “And?”

  “We agreed to work together,” I said, teasing tufts of hair from Su’s back. “What do you mean?”

  “He won’t bother about me poking around as long as I tell him what I learn.”

  “You didn’t tell him how you know about the blackmail, did you?”

  I shook my head. “He didn’t seem to care about that.”

  Nancy sat down beside me. “I believe it.”

  “I found Mr. Podeski and talked to him a while.”

  Nancy suddenly became animated, rubbing her hands and scooting closer for detai
ls to be whispered.

  “I don’t think he did it,” I began. “And he said he didn’t have any idea about where she got her money or how much she had. I don’t think they talked much.”

  Nancy pulled blades of grass and dripped them over Su’s head. “It has to do with the blackmail,” she said.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But then there’s Dr. Santos. Why did someone poison him? It had to be someone who knew him because they brought him his favorite cake, right? Did it have to something to do with Mrs. Podeski or was it coincidence?”

  “The other patient?”

  I nodded, and together we both said ‘white Jeep’. I was the first to say what came next, but Nancy wasn’t far behind.

  “She told me she was baiting skunks around her house,” I said. “Maybe Su—”

  “But she lives blocks away,” Nancy interrupted, spoiling my question.

  “Could have been someone else’s Jeep.”

  Nancy nodded.

  “And what reason could she possibly have to poison him? What’s the connection?”

  15

  I spent most of the rest of the day in Bookmarks, sorting titles on the shelves alphabetically. It was a tedious job but it had to be done. Nancy kept The Grind running as customers came and went, and I occasionally popped into Bookmarks to refresh my coffee.

  Bill arrived late into the day, his arms loaded with a stack of paperbacks. It was surprising and made me intensely curious. “What’s this?”

  Bill only smiled and carefully placed his stack on the floor in front of the Bookmarks display counter. “There were a couple everyone was raving about online. You weren’t around so I decided to go to Eugene and buy some for you to sell. My treat.”

  “I can’t let you do that,” I said, staring at the stack of books that must have been worth a hundred dollars or more.

  “No,” he said defiantly. “You can sell these and they’re on me. I want to help you get things started. I’ve got three more boxes of books in the truck.”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s not a big deal,” he said, interrupting my next denial. “You can keep track. When things get going here, I’ll take it out in trade.” He smiled so broadly I had to relent.

  “Well then,” I said, crouching down to see the books. “What did you get?”

  Bill joined me on his knees and began sorting his booty. “All sorts,” he said with glee. “Couple of dozen mysteries, some thrillers, cookbooks and,” he reached out to grab one title, “here’s one about gardening in this zone. Did you know plants only grow in certain zones?”

  I laughed and nodded my head. He leaned backwards and rested his shoulders on the display case. “So what were you up to while you had me working so hard?”

  I hefted a pile of the books and, standing again, moved them to the counter. “I talked to the chief. They’ve charged Uncle Barney and moved him to Eugene.”

  “Damn it!” Bill stood up and moved books as I had.

  “I talked to Pavel Podeski too,” I said, idly sorting the titles on the counter top.

  “He talked to you?” Bill reached over and cupped my hands in his. “Was it okay?”

  I smiled at his concern and nodded. “I believe him. I don’t think he had anything to do with her death. It seems he didn’t know about Uncle Barney and his wife and never suspected anything.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” He stacked all the books into one tall tower. “Charge what I paid?”

  I shrugged. “Might as well.” I moved to the other side of the display case and dug up the Bookmarks stamp for the inside cover and a sheet of pricing stickers. “Shall we put them upfront or on the shelves?” I asked.

  “Still need to finish sorting the shelves, don’t you think?”

  I smiled, left him to his pricing duty, and started to head into The Grind but stopped myself. I bit my lip and turned back. “Bill? Would you do me a huge, huge favor? You don’t have to if you don’t want.”

  Bill only smiled.

  “Do you think you could find a way to talk to Allan’s friend again? Privately? Maybe Allan has said something about his mother’s death.”

  Bill stared at me in silence but finally nodded.

  “No fighting. If Allan shows up, don’t say anything. Just leave.”

  He smiled again. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be a lot more careful.”

  The Grind was devoid of customers. Nancy was humming to herself as she wiped the top of the pastry case. When I came into view her face took on a mischievous smirk. “Got yourself an eager beaver assistant, I see.” She winked.

  “I need some advice,” I said, ignoring her insinuations. I crossed from Bookmarks and sat down at the first table I reached. Nancy joined me immediately, taking a quick glance to see if Bill was listening.

  “I’ve only seen one new white Jeep in town,” I began. I straightened the napkin holder’s spot at the corner of the table and wiped at imaginary crumbs. “Could it have been Jean coming in as I was leaving Dr. Santos’s office? Should I tell the chief?”

  Nancy folded her hands on the tabletop. “Could have been her. Could have been someone else too.”

  “I know! I feel I should find out where she went that day before I get her in trouble with the chief. She was dressed like she was going out or had just been out, remember?”

  Nancy nodded. “How will you bring that up?”

  I shrugged and sighed. “I have no idea.”

  “You need to get her on your side.” She turned to look at Bill hefting books in Bookmark’s dark well.

  “I didn’t ask him to buy those books. He did it on his own.” I said, anticipating her comments about my bibliophile knight.

  “Ain’t no such thing as a coincidence, dearie.” She leaned towards me on her elbows. “I’ve been working on an idea and it all fits.”

  “What idea?” I asked with a suspicious whisper.

  “You need to get Jean to confide in you somehow and get Muriel involved snooping for you. Bill came up with the perfect solution.”

  “Huh?”

  “It fits my idea perfectly. Now you have something new to sell on Friday.”

  Friday was two days away. “What are you talking about?”

  Nancy quickly went behind the display case and retrieved a poster she’d made. She held it up for me to read. “I knew you’d put it off, so I’m giving you a little nudge. Thanks to Bill, now you have some new books to sell too!” The poster promised a free ‘coffee of the day’ to anyone attending a short story reading by Bookmarks’ ‘writer in residence’ on Friday night. The penmanship on the poster was impressive and she had my name across the bottom in bold red letters. “I thought I’d put one up here, at the post office, and on the message board in the mall.”

  “No way,” I said defiantly. “There’s no way.”

  Nancy gave me a pout. “Come on. You’ve got a short story or two you could read, don’t you? We need to promote the changes you’re making to Bookmarks somehow and maybe The Grind will get a few new customers.” She laid the poster flat before me on the table. “And it gives you a reason to get closer to Jean and Muriel. It’s perfect!”

  “Nancy, I don’t want …”

  “You could announce your children’s book readings on Saturday mornings!”

  “Nance …”

  “That idea of yours is a good one, Mel. And you could do an exchange program. Customers bring in two used books and you let them pick one free from your old ones.” Her smile was contagiously bright and cheerful. “Don’t you want to give Bookmarks a try?”

  It was my turn to pout. “You know I do. But I have to go see Barney.”

  “You can do that tomorrow. What’s more important right now? Finding the truth or crying about your uncle? Show this poster to Jean and ask for her help spreading the word. Then go see Muriel and ask for her help. If Jean says she’ll help, Muriel will be in like Flynn. She can start by putting this poster up in the post office.”

  “Of c
ourse,” Jean gushed. “I’m so happy to see some new blood at the bookstore!”

  “I’m only hoping for a small group, Jean, only a few people since it’s my first reading. I’ll show them some of the new titles I’ve brought in and make a few announcements about other things I have planned for Bookmarks. Sort of to get some word-of-mouth going.”

  “It sounds wonderful, and don’t worry. I’ll pack the place, I promise.”

  I rolled up the poster and thanked her and, as I left, offered a compliment. “Oh, and I have to say the outfit you had on the other day was quite becoming on you, Jean!”

  “Thanks, but it was just an old pant suit. I wear it for doctor’s appointments and things. But it’s nice you noticed.”

  “It was quite sharp. I hope you aren’t ill, Jean.”

  Jean laughed. “Not as sick as some and worse than others.”

  “I like Dr. Phillips. Have since I was a girl.” I winked. “Still looks good, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, he does.” She nodded but didn’t smile.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I meant he’s kind of attractive for an older man. Same with Dr. Santos. Well, was.” I cleared my throat.

  “You can’t judge on looks, dear,” Jean said, guiding me to the door. “The dentist had his faults as I’m sure does Dr. Phillips.”

  I fought her pressure to move me out. “It’s so sad, isn’t it? I mean, poisoned!”

  She stared at me with a cold glare. “Poisoned?”

  I nodded. “The chief told me when he came over to ask why I went to see Dr. Santos. Apparently, I was the last person to see him alive. Didn’t you know he was poisoned?”

  “I thought he had a heart attack or a stroke.” Jean stepped back.

  “Oh! No, he was poisoned with some carrot cake.” I tried a smile. “The chief doesn’t suspect me, of course. He thinks someone else came in after I left.” I opened the door to step out and looked towards her Jeep parked on the street again. “He wanted to know if I’d seen anyone else arrive that day.” I shrugged my shoulders and moved to the stairs where I paused and purposefully turned her way. “But I can’t be sure. Thanks for your help Jean. Will I see you Friday night?”