Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set (55 page)

“Ralph is in jail in Clinton Township, but they’ll be transferring him to Pontiac in a day or so. I would suggest you contact Mark Benson’s office about starting divorce proceedings while he’s incarcerated. Might be easier that way,” I told her.

Buck looked at Elma and said, “Well, you won’t be needing me now, I only worked a day, and I didn’t do much good at keeping an eye on you.” 

Elma smiled, got her purse, gave Buck five one hundred dollar bills, and said he did fine, that she was just a pain in the ass. He bent down to her five-foot-two height and kissed her on the forehead, saying she was a fine person to protect. I told her that it would be good if she kept us informed about any developments with Ralph, in case of changes. She said she would and followed us to the door. Buck went to his vehicle, and I got into my car after agreeing to meet back at my office.

We drove off, and I hoped Elma would be all right now.

I got to my office and found a gorgeous brunette sitting on a chair in my lobby. I asked if I could help her, and she smiled and said she was waiting for her friend who was up in the travel agency. I swore to myself and went into my office, shortly followed by Buck who had to stop and talk to the beauty. He came in with a big grin and plopped his huge frame in the client chair, saying he thought that fox in the hall liked him. I just laughed and we sat talking about the events of the day.

It was then about noon, and I told Buck that I had to go get a list from Weston. I asked if he wanted to go. He declined, saying he hadn’t been home in a day and a half and wanted to go freshen up. I said to stop back whenever, but to call first. He got up and went out. Passing the fox, he smiled, then went to his car. I called Weston, and he said that he had the list ready and would be at his house on Wallace.

I went out, locking my office. The fox was, sadly, gone. I headed over to Weston’s house and drove up to find Weston sitting on the steps to his porch. He got up and came over to me holding out a folded paper. I took it and opened it to find a list of about six new age stores with contact names. A couple of them sounded like hard-core bondage supply stores. I would want those first.

“Are these the places Noreen frequented?” I asked.

“Yep, those are the ones that gave her referrals for her adjustments. I never spent much time in these places, maybe once or twice with her, but I knew she was getting help from them,” he said quietly.

“Did you give this list to anyone else or tell anyone about these places?” I asked.

“Nope, only to you,” he replied. I thought I would at least have a jump over Lincoln with these. Although, since I believed Lincoln had something to do with the murder, he wouldn’t care. I needed to get some names to narrow it down to Lincoln or someone higher up.

“I have a question. You mentioned you had children. Where are they?” I asked.

“My parents came and took them to their home for now. They live in Port Huron. It’s hard on the kids. I’m going up to see them this week. I think it would be better for them to stay up there till this is all over,” he said without expression.

I thought, being fifty miles away would isolate them from the crime and attention here, but Weston still had to deal with telling his children that Mom was not coming home anymore. That has to be something no father should have to bear.

I gave him the keys to the new lock on the storage unit and told him the number. The unit was cleaned out of any evidence so he could use it if he wanted. It was paid to the end of the year. He said he might go sleep in it and laughed sadly. I said I would be in touch and left him standing on his front lawn, looking miserable. The guy’s world was crumbling. At least he still had his kids.

I drove over to Twelve Mile Road, then to Gratiot Ave. and down towards Eight Mile Road where the first store was located. A place called the Purple Pit, it was a head shop and new age store, and it was the closest to me at the moment. I had to drive around the block a number of times before I spotted the store. Duh, I should have seen it painted all purple and sporting the huge peace sign, made popular in the sixties by the head culture. I navigated the drive on the side, a narrow twisty path that led to a small parking lot in the back. I guess they didn’t expect a lot of business. I got out of my car and walked around to the front, passing some guy spread out on the empty lot next to the store. At first, I thought he might have been dead, but he opened his eyes and asked if I had a buck for food. I could see his eyes, drug addled. Food was not on his mind. I said I was sorry but I was broke, blame the economy. He lay back and passed out again.

I came around the front of the store and went in. It took me back to my days in the sixties as a newbie hippy, smelling the incense and adjusting my eyes to the black lights making the posters glow in that odd blue light. I remember hanging out at the teen dance club, the Crow’s Nest East in St. Clair Shores, watching great bands like the MC5 and Amboy Dukes featuring Ted Nugent. I sat with Bob Seger one night after his band the “Bob Seger System” rocked out the house. We talked about nothing in particular, but I was thrilled. The Strawberry Alarmclock and…well, I could go on but I was jumped on by an oddly attractive young woman as I stood entranced by the sights.

“Hey, man, can I help you?” she asked in a squeaky voice that I loved to hear, a child-like but giggly adult tremor that just made my ears perk up. She was attractive in an odd sense, not beautiful, but innocent, with a young, soft face that just needed to be kissed. I resisted. I looked closer and realized she wasn’t that young, maybe in her forties. I was intrigued. She had metal piercings adorning her lips, nose and eyebrows. I wasn’t fond of piercings, but she seemed to make them work. She wore black leather that covered her body, and she wore the spiked bracelets and collar that completed the outfit.

“Hi, I’m looking for Lorelei. Is she in?” I asked going by the list names of contacts.

“Wow, I’m Lorelei. Are you looking for an adjustment?” she asked, all bubbly.

“Beg your pardon? What kind of adjustment do you offer?” I asked.

“Massage or bondage,” she offered. “What are you into?”

“Neither,” I answered. She looked disappointed. “I’m interested in any information about Noreen Black.”

She recoiled at the statement. “Why are you asking about her?” She squinted her eyes as she spoke.

“I’m sorry, I’m an investigator and I’m trying to track down her killer.” I took out my I.D. and showed it to her. She took my I.D. case and badge and walked away. I followed. She stopped and looked at me and then at my picture and back to me. She gave me my case back and asked what did I want to know.

“Did you supply her with names of clients she may have helped in her business?” I inquired.

She squinted again and said, “Names of people that would curl your hair. Follow me.” I did.

*

Chapter Nineteen

She took me to a small room off to the side, through some beaded curtains that were popular in the sixties. She turned and said in a low voice, “What’s your interest?” I told her I was hired by Dave Weston to find out who killed Noreen. She smiled and said, “Noreen came to us here, and we supplied her clients that were looking for, as Noreen put it, attitude adjustments. I loved that term. They didn’t want to say they wanted to be tied down and whipped, made to be submissive, made to beg for their mommies, but that’s what they wanted,” she rattled out. “They were strange folks who didn’t want to be recognized, but I recognized a few of them. Important people in the community, political people who I’m sure don’t want their constituents to know they are into kinky stuff.” She giggled.

“Like who?” I asked. She started to open her mouth to speak when the front door bell tinkled. She closed her mouth and walked out of the room. I stood back, looked out through the beads, and saw someone I didn’t want to see, Detective Ben Lincoln. Now what the fuck was he doing here? I watched him as he briefly chatted up Lorelei, then I saw him move his hand back to where his gun was. I didn’t want to shoot him, although the idea was something I liked, but not today. Lorelei was busy chatting as he put his hand on his weapon. I burst out from the back room.

“Well, well, Detective Lincoln, how nice to see you again.” I had my hand in back of my jacket by my gun, just in case. He looked stunned and pulled his hand away from his weapon. I did likewise. I came up to the two of them. Lorelei squinted at Lincoln.

“You are a police officer or a private investigator?” she asked of Lincoln.

“I’m a police detective, ma’am. I’m investigating the murder of Noreen Weston. Do you know of this woman?” he asked politely.

Lorelei stood for a moment, then said in a calm voice, “Sorry, officer I don’t know the woman, can’t help you.”

He looked at me. “You checking this out here, too?”

“Yep, and I got the same answer. Looks like a dead end here. Are there any other places that we may meet at today?” I asked.

His lip snarled, and he said, “I hope not.” Then he said thanks to Lorelei and went out.

Lorelei watched him go and looked at me. “He’s a bad one. I know who he is. I just pretended not to know him to throw him off. He knows a few people who used Noreen’s services.”

“I’m wondering if you might be in danger. You think maybe you should lay low for a while?”

She had been standing behind the counter all this time and suddenly brought her arm up. In her hand was a sawed off shot gun. She smiled at me and said she wasn’t stupid. I had to agree.

She replaced the shot gun in its holder under the counter then looked at me and said, “You have a nice aura about you. Do you practice any kind of metaphysical arts?”

“I occasionally worship the gods of barley and hops, but that’s about it,” I replied.

She smiled and said, “Ah, a beer worshiper. I like that. I indulge in the brew myself on occasion. I don’t like my senses being messed with, but every so often I like to climb to a higher level of consciousness.” She giggled.

“I usually end up in an unconscious state. Back to Noreen, can you name a few people for me that I might want to talk to about Noreen’s demise,” I asked.

“We don’t keep records of people’s names. We just refer them to Noreen, or did refer, and give them a card.” She picked up a card from a holder on the wall and gave it to me.

“You said you recognized some people, who?”

“Well, a certain councilman from here in town was one person I remember. His initials were F.R., and that’s all I can tell you. It’s a matter of confidentiality with our clients. He’s someone you can start with.” She winked as the front door opened again and a not quite elderly woman walked in. “Hello, Mrs. Webb, how are you today?”

“Fine.” The woman said and didn’t want to look at me. She turned towards the front of the store and went to a rack of leather goods.

Lorelei smiled and said quietly, “You can never judge a book by its cover. That woman is into kink with her husband. She’s in here every other week looking for new toys.”

I just shook my head and thanked Lorelei. I gave her my card and said if she remembered anything else that might help, to call me. She looked at the card and said she would do that. I went out to my car, now finding the guy lying out in the back parking lot. He raised his head and asked again if I had a dollar for food. I went to my car, took out two candy bars I had on the front seat, and tossed them to him. I said, enjoy, got in the car and drove off as he gave me the finger.

I drove out Eight Mile Road, the northern border of Detroit, and over to Woodward Avenue, up to a small store front called “Leather and Lace.” I parked and went in to find three women all in black leather from full cover to skimpy bustiers. They had the whole Dominatrix package going for them. One came over to me and purred. “Hi, handsome, you come to play?”

“I’m looking for Mistress Terry. Is she in?” I asked.

The woman smiled and said, “I’ll go get her.” She slinked off to the back room and after a few moments, another woman appeared. I was a little surprised. It was the same woman who was on Penny’s show this last week. She came up and asked if she could help me.