Angel Food and Devil Dogs (41 page)

She used both hands to hold my head steady, one cupping my chin and one at the back of my neck. She brought her lips very close to my ear. I thought she was going to whisper some suggestive method or technique, but she surprised me. She breathed warm air into my ear, then gently bit the lobe, sliding her tongue very lightly up to the outer shell. She nibbled, the silkiness of her tongue continuing to tease the surface, then kissed just behind my ear.

"Oh," I moaned involuntarily, breathing in deeply, feeling an electric charge from head to toe. The sensation was so sweet I froze in place, hoping she'd go on and on.

But she pulled back, lightly trailing her fingers down my throat, whispering, "Get to work, you know I'll make it worth your while. I'll spend the whole time planning erotic thrills for you."

"This is supposed to help me concentrate on the case?" I groaned. I turned to her, lifting my hand to touch her face. "I want you even more now."

"Well, my dear, you can't have me now... but if you get some of your work done, I'll make you very glad you did. I have an extensive imagination, I'll think up something very special for you."

Now I was making the purring noise. "Is this the way you get your students to get their work done?"

"No, no. For students, I'm the Ice Queen, remember? Only you are eligible for this reward." I could see a smile twitch at the corners of her mouth, but the look in her eyes was firm. I wasn't going to get any more
attention
from her until I did my duty. So I took several deep breaths and began to concentrate.

Kathryn moved to the other side of the table and went back to wrapping her presents. I pulled my laptop from my bag and booted it up. I fished out the two checklists of the people from Daria's party and put them on the table in front of me. Finally, I took out the drawings I'd done of the baskets with the
suspect eggs
and looked them over carefully.

Kathryn watched me, then asked, "If we talk, will it bother you?

"No. When I was on the police force, we'd always talk cases over with our partners. I miss that."

"What are those?" asked Kathryn glancing at the lists. "Did you say you were working on two cases?"

"I'm also working on the Daria Webster murder. Sara and Emma are the defense counselors. Did you read about it?"

"Daria Webster? That young woman who was assaulted and murdered? It was all over the papers, but the way the police presented it, it sounded as though they had the murderer and the case was closed."

"It's not. Mickey Murphy, the guy they have in custody, is innocent..." I explained some of the situation to Kathryn. "The reporters should have mentioned that the D.A.'s case is built on a confession pressured out of a man with the mental capacity of a child of 8 and the fear quotient and quirky memory of a child of 4," I said emphatically. "He lives in a landscape of pinball machines, peopled with cartoon characters. I think he confessed because he feels guilty for not protecting Daria. He didn't kill her."

"What a terrible thing. That poor young man. He's lucky he has you and Sara and Emma as friends... but the police said he was covered with defense bruises."

"They didn't know Mickey," I explained to Kathryn that playing pinball is a contact sport.

"Do you think Mickey actually saw the murderer? Maybe that was why he was so afraid when the police found him. What does he say about that night?" she asked.

"Very little. Mostly he says, 'I can't remember'." I thought back to that day at the jail. "He said something about Batman, Robin, Chief O'Hara, Spiderman, the Sandman and
the rest of the people
." I began to explain about the cartoon character names as I added shading to the egg basket sketch. Kathryn couldn't help but be amused.

"Storm because your name is Gale? Makes sense," said Kathryn cutting a sheet of wrapping paper. "What are some of the other nicknames?"

I put the sketch aside and started a new one on a fresh piece of paper. It was of the conference room table. As I told Kathryn about She-ra and Wonder Woman, I opened some of the little cans of plastic clay Kathryn had just given me and began to make a series of different colored figures, each representing someone who got a drink in the conference room before the bomb went off. "The names can be very hard to figure out. Mickey calls Farrel Case
Fur Ball
."

Kathryn paused, looking up at the ceiling considering, then smiled, "I've got it! Furball was that
feral
cat on that Tiny Toons show, wasn't he?"

I thought about it, "Yes, yes, of course, very good Kathryn! Ha! I can't wait to tell Farrel." I shook my head. "It's astounding that Mickey even understands what the word
feral
means, but then, he has that Rainman-Savant kind of thing going on..."

"I feel so proud of myself. Honestly, I'd really be insufferable if I actually solved some complex case," said Kathryn with amusement. All the gifts were wrapped. She stood up stretching her arms over her head, which I paused to appreciate. She picked up my sketch of the egg basket.

"These are the suspects in Carl's murder, aren't they? The football-helmeted egg is Leo, the one with the musical note is Jimmy, the one with the cross is... um, Connie?" I nodded as she asked, "and what's drawn on this one? Is it a door?"

"It's a closet door."

"Ah, Rowlina... and the one with the
X
?"

"I think of that one as the unknown factor."

"Bouchet? Miranda? Me?"

"Not you or Bouchet, both of you have alibis. Possibly Miranda, but she seems to have an alibi for the bombing. It's just to remind me that there could be someone else I haven't considered at all."

"I can't imagine any of them as killers. Does the drawing help you look at the case more abstractly?"

"I guess you could say that," I said, working with the clay again, making tiny little bottles.

"I'm going to change my clothes," said Kathryn moving toward the bedroom.

"You mean put on something more
comfortable
? Goody," I chuckled.

"Keep working," she tossed over her shoulder in a husky tone, "remember, you have to earn it."

"Mmmmmm," I groaned. I picked up the lists from Daria's party and read through them quickly. Three bankruptcies and two car repos on the credit sheet. Several DUIs on the criminal sheet. Nothing to call Sara about. The only interesting thing was that Arturo Murciélago had been arrested for loitering during a Union demonstration 15 years before, which meant he was part of either a sit-in or some kind of protest. Of course, just because none of these people had a criminal record for rape or murder, didn't mean that none of them could have killed Daria. In fact, crimes in some states don't show up on these record lists at all. At least I could tell that none of these people had an assault record in Pennsylvania, at least not under these names.

I put the lists aside and began to move the clay figures around the drawing of the table. Kathryn came back, dressed in jeans and a sweater. Her hair was loose; she pushed it back behind her ears as she came to sit next to me again.

"I forgot to ask you," she said, "what happened this morning? Did you talk to Jimmy?"

"Well, kind of." I explained that Jimmy had blown me off at the Music Building, and then ran out of the Chapel later. I also told her about the dust-up between Leo and his ex-wife. I didn't mention the runaway piano incident. "What did Connie Robinson say to you in the Chapel?"

"Just that she was sorry she'd made foolish assumptions. She wanted to apologize."

We talked about the service and the exceptional music. "Do you think that's what made Jimmy run out?" I asked.

"You mean because the music was so moving? Maybe, maybe. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No, I don't," I said more sternly than I'd meant to.

She looked up, responding to my directive tone, "I'm sorry?" she said sharply.

"Oh Kathryn, it's not that I don't want you to help me, or even that I don't think you could do a better job than I could, it's just that..." I hesitated.

Her face softened to concern, "It's that you think Jimmy could be a murderer and you'd rather I didn't mix with that kind of crowd?"

"Yeah," I said simply.

"OK, I'll leave the potential bad guys to you... but I can take care of myself you know." She smiled that suggestive half smile that made my heart leap and my underpants moist. Then she got up and moved to the other side of the table. I laughed out loud.

"Well, I'm supposed to be helping you, not distracting you, so I'll stay over here," she explained. "May I look at this list, or is it confidential?"

"Sure, read it over. It's information anyone can get. Do you know any of those people? Read them to me."

Kathryn read each name off the list. It began with Daria Webster, then listed each person who'd attended the party Daria had given just hours before she was killed.

"Taylor Johnson. Odd, he has no credit rating at all. Oh, I see, he's only 16."

"I met him at the homeless shelter. I guess Daria invited everyone who worked or volunteered there. Connie's on the list, too."

"Yes, Constance P. Robinson. I wonder what the "P" stands for?"

"Knowing her family situation, I wouldn't be surprised with Prudence."

Kathryn read a few more names and then said, "Cedrick S. Druckenmacher, also C. Sheldon Druckenmacher, also Shel Druckenmacher. Miranda's ex-husband?" she asked with raised eyebrows. I nodded. She flipped over the page, then looked at the other list. "He's such a low life, you'd think there'd be more about him. He doesn't seem to have a record though, just a low credit rating, and that could happen to anyone. Hmm, well, he seems to have three low credit ratings, one for each configuration of his name."

"Giving a new meaning to the term creative financing?" I suggested.

Kathryn stood, and began to walk around the room, still looking over one of the lists. She glanced out the window. The late afternoon sun was beginning to set, making the sky redden and casting a pink hue on the house facades. I watched her as she turned and walked back toward the fireplace and bookcases, idly looking over the objects on the shelves. She picked up a big conch shell a friend had given me as a house-warming present. She noticed me watching her. "Shall I light a fire?" she asked nodding at the fireplace. I smiled, she'd been lighting a fire in me all afternoon.

"Is that everyone on the list?" I said trying to sound businesslike.

She scanned the paper while holding the shell in her other hand. "Here's a man whose last name is Murci..."

"Murciélago," I pronounced it for her, "Arturo. He's the Executive Director of the shelter."

"I've never heard that surname before..."

"I was just thinking that it's a strange last name, it means, um...
bat
in Spanish." I vaguely wondered who else might have known that.

Kathryn put down the list and began to run the tip of her finger over the smooth surface of the opening of the shell, tracing the folds sensually, touching it like it was part of a woman's body. Then catching my eye and holding my gaze, she brought the flowing organic shape closer to her mouth. I thought, If she starts to lick the inside surface, I may faint. Kathryn smiled devilishly, then simply held the object to her ear, listening for the sea. And it was only a seashell, again. Sea... shell.

"Batman and Robin," I said aloud. I bolted out of my chair knocking it over. I grabbed the other list of names, scanning intently.

"Maggie, what is it?" asked Kathryn in alarm.

I held my hand up, frozen in thought. Then scooping up my cell phone I scrolled to Connie Robinson's number. "Connie?" I nearly shouted when she answered, "This is Maggie Gale. You were at the party at Daria Webster's, right? That's what you were talking to me about today wasn't it? You know Mickey Murphy? Yes, he lived next door. Did he call you Robin? And Arturo was... Batman? He called Daria... yes, yes. You heard him? Connie, listen carefully, who was... The Sandman?"

"Hello, Emma? I tried to reach Sara, but her cell isn't on."

"She's here, we're in my office going over Mickey's case. What is it?" said Emma.

"It's about Mickey. I think I know... come upstairs, now!"

I'd tried to call Sara the minute I'd gotten off the phone with Arturo Murciélago, whom I called for more information after I spoke to Connie. Now I could hear Sara and Emma's footsteps clattering up the stairwell. I turned to look at Kathryn. She sat comfortably in an easy chair near the fireplace, watching my every move with a look of fascination in her eyes. I stared back at her for a moment, exchanging a spark. Most people would have asked me what I'd figured out. It was interesting that Kathryn was content to wait and let things unfold.

I opened the door. Emma and Sara burst into the room and then stood there, not knowing what to say. Emma noticed Kathryn and smirked, "Is this still your first date?"

Kathryn shook her head smiling, "Technically it's our fourth."

"Great," said Sara, "because you know, if people like each other, usually the fourth date is when they..." she glanced toward the bedroom.

"I've heard that," said Emma snickering.

"Will you women stop flirting and pay attention, this is important," I said firmly.

Sara faced me and could see I meant it, "What is it Maggie, go ahead."

"Kathryn can listen to this, can't she?" I asked.

"As long as what you're going to tell us has to do with clearing Mickey. If you're going to say he's guilty, she'll have to leave," said Emma seriously.

"No, this is good," I picked up the lists of partygoers and gave one to Sara and one to Emma. "Look at the names and remember what Mickey told us about the day he was arrested. He said, 'I remember the police guy, Chief O'Hara, and Batman and Robin, and there was The Sandman... he's one of Spiderman's enemies, he shot me.' We know Mickey assigns cartoon character names to real people..."

"Maggie, Mickey doesn't always make sense," said Sara.

"He doesn't always make sense to rest of us, but I think he always makes sense to himself. He just can't explain it, or sometimes, he can't remember it. But let's figure that these are real people. Chief O'Hara the police Chief of Gotham City is easy, it's Lt. Ed O'Brien. We know he was there on the scene later that night, but earlier at the party, Mickey saw Batman and Robin. Robin is Connie Robinson, she confirmed that on the phone to me a few minutes ago. And Batman, is Arturo Murciélago."