Act V (21 page)

*****

Andy Wofford looked like Santa on
Christmas Eve getting ready to deliver toys. “Glad you could come
by gentlemen.”

“
What have you got?” Brice
jumped right to the chase.

“
Patience,” Andy admonished.
“I’m getting there.” He pointed out photos of the deceased Kenneth
Shultz. “Note the swollen, protruded tongue. Obviously, this fellow
has had contact with some kind of toxin. His wife also to a lesser
extent.”

“
Obviously,” Addison
agreed.

“
The toxin in question is
known as Belladonna, or Deadly Nightshade.”

“
Sounds interesting,” Brice
commented. “Maybe I’ve heard of it.”

“
Most likely you have. It’s
been used as a hallucinogen, but in the right concentrations it’ll
fry the user inducing coma and/or death.”

“
Okay, so we have our
poison,” Brice said. “You look like you’ve got something else to
tell us.”

“
As a matter of fact, I
have,” Andy continued. “As it happens, this particular toxin was
very popular in literature. Louisa May Alcott, Sir Arthur Conan
Doyle, William Thakeray, Alexandre Dumas and Ambrose Bierce all
mention it as medicine or poison in their works. Most
interestingly, for you, however, is its reference in
Shakespeare.”

Addison laughed out loud. ‘When did you
become a Shakespearean scholar?”

“
When this case started
getting weird. You mentioned the connection to
Hamlet
and
Romeo and Juliet
and I took it from
there. I just looked up literature and Belladonna. Ain’t the
internet cool!”

“
So,” Brice prodded.
“Shakespeare mentions it in his plays?”

“
Poetry, plays…While he
doesn’t use the name, most people agree that Juliet used Belladonna
to make herself go into the death-like sleep and King Duncan of
Macbeth fame used it to subdue other armies. The stuff is
fascinating. Of course, the comparison isn’t exact, but our boy
made his point, poisoning and stabbing to look like
suicide.”

Brice and Addy had to agree. “Thanks,
Doc. You released the bodies?” Brice asked.

“
Yeah,” Wofford told him.
“Both funerals will be Sunday.”

*****

The television was on but muted as
Brice and Glynnis shared a plate of wings on the couch and Carl sat
below them on the floor hoping for a scrap. “I sure hope you
brought extra napkins,” Glynnis said through a mouthful of buffalo
sauce.

“
I am the proverbial boy
scout…always prepared.” He handed her a stack of napkins from the
bag. He’d already explained that Dorsey and Aaron were now being
viewed as possible suspects and asked her to be careful. He
couldn’t quite get a handle on the Shakespeare thing. There was a
nagging thought that he just couldn’t grasp but he knew was
important, a cops intuition. “Now, explain to me how Juliet faked
her own death again?”

“
Simple, she took a drug
that made her seem to be dead.”

“
Possibly Deadly Nightshade,
Belladonna.”

“
Right. Then Romeo finds
her, assumes she is dead and drinks some kind of deadly poison that
he had with him for another purpose, rather than living without
her. Then she wakes up and finds him dead. She kisses his lips,
hoping that enough poison remains on them, but it doesn’t do the
trick.”

“
So she stabs herself with
the dagger.”

“
Right.”

“
Boy, talk about
convoluted.”

“
Shakespeare was nothing if
not convoluted.” She pointed to the TV. “Hey, turn it up. Your good
friend` Ms. Fitchwell is on.”

Sandra Fitchwell stood in front of the
Apartment Complex where the Shultz kids had been murdered. “She has
no shame.” Brice glowered.

“
Shush! I want to
hear.”

“
Police have made no arrests
as of yet,” Fitchwell was saying. “However, this document was
delivered to the News Four studios around lunchtime
today.”

She held up a sheet of typing paper and
Brice almost choked on a hot wing. “What the heck?”

Fitchwell continued. “This
is a letter, allegedly from the killer who is now calling
himself
The Bard
.
In it he takes full credit for the Danning and Shultz murders and
discloses information that he says the police did not release to
the press. He comments on the method of the killings as being,
quote, Shakespearean in nature, unquote. He also refers to Danning
as King Claudius from
Hamlet
and the Shultz couple as
Romeo and Juliet
. For those who are
less familiar with the works of Shakespeare, he is often referred
to by the name, The Bard.” Sandra Fitchwell attempted to appear
gravely concerned.

“
I swear, I’ll kill her.”
Brice sputtered.

“
When asked about the
name,
The Bard
,
Police had no comment. They also refused to comment on continuing
rumors that detectives are consulting a psychic on this
case.”

In the studio, a smiling Jonathan said,
“Thanks Sandra. We’ll keep you updated on developments as soon as
we know more.”

Brice wanted to punch the television.
He lifted his cell. “Addy, did you just see the news? Yes, if
you’ll call the captain, I’ll call the studio.” He hung up. “If I
could get my hands on that…”

Glynnis touched his arm. “Brice, that’s
the second time she’s mentioned me. What if…”

Brice pulled her closer. “It’s okay.
We’re going to stop this guy. Just keep your eyes open. And don’t
trust anybody, especially Aaron Shultz and Dorsey
Timmons.”

*****

He was so excited. The goal was in
sight and he was ready. The police, those complete fools, didn’t
have a thing. He had been so very careful. And now, the absolutely
lovely Ms. Fitchwell was doing exactly what he’d hoped she would
do. She was making The Bard famous. Everyone would know of the
maniacal killer who used Shakespeare to plan his murders. It was
perfect.

Only one thing bothered him—this
psychic Ms. Fitchwell kept mentioning. The police were denying it,
but what if it were true? Could she know something? Who was she?
Maybe it was time to give Ms. Fitchwell a call. If he offered her
an exclusive, then maybe she’d give him what he wanted, the name of
the only person in town that could ruin his plans. He headed for
the store to purchase yet another disposable cell phone. He must
maintain secrecy. It wouldn’t do to let out his real identity to
Ms. Fitchwell.

*****

“
Ms. Fitchwell,” Addy began,
maintaining a semblance of professionalism despite the fact that he
really wanted to choke this ambitious, glory-seeking woman and get
it over with. “Could you please show us the note that supposedly
came from our alleged killer?”

Brice couldn’t hold the sarcasm back.
“That would be the one you showed the entire state last night on
the six o’clock news.”

Sandra Fitchwell’s painted and frozen
in place composure didn’t waiver even a millimeter. She had dealt
with pushy police officers before. She wasn’t about to start
getting nervous around them now. “Gentlemen, you may recall that I
called and asked you point blank for a comment on this yesterday.
I’m not hiding anything.”

That just about got Brice but he knew
how to handle power hungry people, and threats didn’t usually work.
He kept his goal in mind and pressed. “Ms. Fitchwell, when you
called, you failed to mention that you had a note from the killer
in your possession.”

“
Oh, did I forget to mention
that? I’m so very sorry.” She slowed the last four words to
emphasize the fact that she didn’t mean them for a
second.

“
Please produce the letter
and any envelope it might have come in, Ms. Fitchwell.” That was
Addy who wasn’t any happier than Brice.

“
Fine, I intended to give it
to you anyway.” She retrieved a manila envelope from inside her
desk drawer. “I always cooperate with the police.”

Addy wasn’t moved. “Well now, isn’t
that kind of you Ms. Fitchwell. That was awfully nice of you to
consider us. Wasn’t it Detective Gearhart?”

“
She’s a credit to the
community,” Brice added without inflection. “How many people
besides you have touched this?”

Fitchwell considered, “My producer, my
camera man, Rodrick, a couple of other guys on the crew. I guess
that’s all.”

“
We’ll need you all to come
in for prints to eliminate yours from any left by the killer.”
Using a handkerchief, Brice pulled the paper out of the envelope.
“What makes you think this is the real thing anyway? Anybody could
have sent this note just to see you dance with it on
camera.”

“
Read it,” she
said.

Addy leaned toward Brice and both men
looked at the note.

My Dear Ms.
Fitchwell,

I want to thank you for the
professional coverage you’ve given my recent productions. You are
truly a talented and insightful reporter. I’ve decided that you
deserve a bit more information about the recent
incidents.

First, the police won’t
mention it to you, but in both cases, I used a Shakespearean format
to bring an end to evil. Claude Danning, like Claudius in Hamlet,
wickedly married his brother’s widow. This incestuous behavior had
to stop. I killed him with poison and a very old long sword which I
used to run him completely through and couldn’t bear to leave
behind. (Perhaps you should inquire about the condition of Mr.
Danning’s wingback chair. Also, ask them about the poisoned pearl.
It was all very dramatic.)

The Shultz children weren’t
evil, just misguided. Like Romeo and Juliet, they deceived their
parents and married without their permission. I had to draw
attention to their disrespectful behavior. It wouldn’t do to let
them go on that way as an example to the rest of our youth. I made
the boy drink poison and then allowed the girl to kiss him goodbye
and helped her to stab herself. Just like Juliet. The dagger I used
was one belonging to the community. Alas, I didn’t have one of my
own.

Ms. Fitchwell, I hope that
you will take the time to inform the public. Their sins will find
them out.

The Bard

Chapter18

Something about the letter didn’t ring
true. Just like the slight niggling feeling he had about the way
the murders were committed, ala Shakespeare, something was teasing
Brice’s subconscious, playing just out of range of his conscious
mind. Something in the letter was contrived, as if the writer had
worked very hard to convince them of his motives. “Do you think we
should ask the captain about calling in the State guys?”

Addy narrowed his eyes. “What, let
those boys get in here and scare everybody then muck up the whole
case? They might get the job done, but there’ll be a huge mess to
clean up when they leave.”

Brice knew he was right. The State Law
Enforcement guys were efficient and effective, but they didn’t care
who they stepped on in the process. The captain was already looking
at bringing them in, or maybe even the Bureau, but the department
was territorial. They didn’t care for other dogs messing in their
pen. For now this would stay local.

Before leaving the Channel 4 studios
they’d arranged a time when everyone who had handled the letter was
to come in for prints. Then Addison took the words right out of
Brice’s mouth when he turned back to warn Sandra Fitchwell. “Ms
Fitchwell, I hope you understand the severity of your actions. By
not handing this letter over to us to begin with, you might have
jeopardized this investigation, or even encouraged the perpetrator
to commit further crimes. If you receive any other communication
from the man, make sure you come to us before proceeding. Is that
clear?”

“
Certainly Detective. I
always…”

“
Yeah, we know,” Brice
interrupted. “You always cooperate with the police. If you recall,
I warned you not to mention this psychic business on the air again,
but you did it anyway. That’s not exactly cooperative, Ms.
Fitchwell. I’m looking into charges on that one already. You may
have endangered an innocent person’s life. If you so much as think
the word
psychic
on
the air again or reveal any more communication with the killer in
this case, I’ll personally charge you with everything I can find in
the book. You will wish you’d never taken your first journalism
course.”

Then they’d left with the letter and a
sense that Sandra Fitchwell considered any publicity good
publicity. She wasn’t likely to do what was in the best interest of
the case if she could get a sound bite out of it.

It was Monday all over and the week was
already looking unbelievably long.

*****

Graham Itzen leafed through the April
financial report. Itza pizza had turned a profit once again, a very
healthy one in fact. No thanks to his fool of a stepson. He’d given
the boy every opportunity to learn the business from the ground up,
but he still had no real concept of how to run a successful pizza
restaurant chain. The boy didn’t understand customer relations or
public relations at all. He had no inkling of what it meant to
provide good quality control. The boy was too busy thinking of
himself to actually be a real businessman. Maybe if he’d get
married and settle down it would bring his mind around to real
work, or maybe not.