Murder and Mayhem (19 page)

* * *

When Danny wandered into the room with a towel draped
around his waist, he saw Nicola lying naked on the bed, reading. He raked his
fingers through his wet hair and asked her what she was looking at.

“It’s just a brochure I picked up at the front desk.
Did you know Kingston became New York’s first capital just before the British
burned it to the ground in 1777? It says here that Kingston became an important
hub after natural cement was discovered in the area in the nineteenth century.
I never knew that.”

Danny wandered over to the bed and planted a kiss on
her backside. “Neither did I.”

Nicola pushed him away and sat up. “Have you ever been
to Kingston before?”

“No. I haven’t traveled this side of the Hudson River
before. I’ve traveled the east bank a couple of times. It’s a much prettier
drive through towns like Tarrytown, Sleepy Hollow and Ossining. The east bank
was where many wealthy families had estates–The Livingston’s, Vanderbilt’s,
Roosevelt’s and the Rockefeller’s.

“When I drove through Poughkeepsie, I took a detour
and visited Vassar College. It was vacation time but the gatekeeper let me in.
The place was really something. It has wonderful buildings and magnificent
grounds with a lovely old stone church. When I was a kid I used to read about
places like that.” He sat on the bed beside her and ran his fingers up and down
her spine.

“Did you go to an Ivy League College?” he asked.

“No, I went to UCLA. It’s just a regular run of the
mill college but I had fun and enjoyed being there. Most students do no matter
which college they go to. It’s the fun and excitement of the whole college
experience. For most students it’s being away from their parents, able to do
whatever they please, with no curfews, and no rules. Well, not many. Most
students go crazy those first couple of weeks, but eventually they settle
down.”

Danny smiled. “What about you? Did you run wild?”

“No. Because we lived in the San Fernando Valley I
lived at home. But I still had a great time. What about you? Did you go to
college?”

“We don’t have colleges in Australia like you have
here. We have universities for those who get the marks and want to be doctors,
lawyers or engineers, but it’s very expensive. What we have are TAFE colleges:
Technical and Further Education. They’re a little like your colleges, but I
think not so much fun. Most students don’t live on the campus. I did a three
year course in computer science as well as a bunch of other stuff–but there was
nothing remarkable about my time there. It was just a means to an end,” he said
with an indifferent shrug.

EIGHTEEN

The sun was shining, birds were singing and traffic
flowed steadily as we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge.

When I said, “Weather like this you wouldn’t be dead
for quids,” to a Latino woman standing outside the hospital waiting room she
gave me a strange look. I figured she probably had trouble understanding my
Australian accent.

As we entered the room I looked for Louanna and
Chartreuse, but they were nowhere in sight.

“They must have changed Chartreuse’s schedule again,”
Rosie said.

As we drew level with a couple
of women who looked nervous and unsure, I decided to do my good deed for the
day.

“Hi,” I said cheerily. “My name
is Bee and this here’s my sister, Rosie–but everyone calls her, Hon.”

Both women looked up with startled expressions on
their faces and took our outstretched hands.

When the larger of the two women
said, “My name is Susannah, and this is my sister, Daphne,” you could have
knocked me down with a feather.

Daphne was a mousy little woman
with gray hair pulled back in a tight bun; large glasses that covered most of
her face, and wore no makeup. Although dowdy in looks, Daphne made up for it by
the kaleidoscope of colors she wore in the form of a multi-colored mini skirt,
purple tights on skinny chicken legs, and a tight fitting pink and green
striped top cut low to reveal absolutely no breasts whatsoever. Her fingers
were stubby, the nails, without polish, were chewed to the quick.

Susannah, however, was a big
boned woman with volumes of yellow curls that put me in mind of a mass planting
of daffodils. She had large pouting lips I’d be inclined to attribute to
regular Botox injections more than genes, painted bright red with iridescent
blue smudges around her eyes and an excessive amount of orange blusher smeared
over plump cheeks. From her offered hand I noted her acrylic nails were almost
as long as Louanna and Chartreuse’s–but not quite–covered in blood-red nail
polish in an effort to focus the eye on the large jeweled rings that adorned
every finger.

I could only hazard a guess at
the ages of both women–mid-to-late-forties.

“Obviously,” I said. “You two could be twins.” I felt a
sharp dig to my side and dislodged my sister’s elbow from my fourth rib.

“You think so?” Susannah exclaimed. “A lot of people
say the same thing. But I’m much taller.”

Daphne nodded. “I get that all
the time,” she said.

“What? That people think you’re twins–or that Susannah
is much taller?” I said as I searched for common ground.

“Oh, people often mistake us for twins. Susannah just
likes to remind me she’s taller than me every chance she gets. It’s only a half
inch or so, hardly noticeable at all,” Daphne said and lifted her shoulders
with a snort of contempt.

Hardly grounds for a family
dispute, I would have thought.

Susannah gave a dismissive wave of the hand. “Don’t
take any notice of her. Daphne’s just jealous because I outshine her in the
looks department,” she added with a haughty sniff.

I looked at both women and wondered who amongst us
needed glasses–or eye surgery to remove cloudy cataracts.

Rosie–ever the peacemaker–tried to defuse the
situation before it turned ugly. “Fancy that, Bubbie, another set of sisters.
Who would have thought?”

Susannah glared at Daphne and added, “And, I’m the
oldest.”

Now that came as a complete surprise.

“I’m sure there’s very little difference in your ages.
I still can’t believe you’re not twins,” I said recalling the Arnold
Schwarzenegger, Danny Devito movie.

Rosie shot me a warning look. I winced when her bony
elbow found my fifth rib.

As Susannah was the one wearing the skimpy hospital
gown we didn’t need to ask who the patient was. 

“Is this your first time?” I asked, sympathetically.

Susannah looked over Daphne and
patted her on the hand. I thought it a strange gesture considering what had
just transpired by way of sibling rivalry–and the fact that she was the
patient.

Rosie gave them an encouraging smile and said, “It’s
not so bad.”

“Especially when you consider the alternatives,” I
added giving them one of my rueful smiles.

The women looked at me with startled expressions.
Suddenly Daphne burst into tears and headed for the restroom. Susannah,
however, stared straight ahead, and made no attempt to follow.

I could see Rosie was crestfallen as she watched
Daphne disappear into the restroom. “Oh, poor thing, she’s obviously taking it
hard. I think I should go after her.”

“I think we should just leave
her alone. Once she gets it out of her system she’ll settle down,” Susannah
said. “Daphne’s a bit of a drama queen, always seeking attention. You should
have heard her carrying on when she read the brochure about women having
mastectomies. I told her, ‘You’ve lived without breasts all your life and it’s
never done you any harm.’  Daphne’s got seven children and getting ready to
kick husband number four to the curb and take up with number five,” she added
and proceeded to pick her teeth with a talon-like nail. The jangle of the rings
as she worked at each tooth was akin to sleigh-bells ringing in Christmas.

“Far as I’m concerned once you’ve finished
breastfeeding they’re just superfluous to needs anyway. Don’t you agree?” She
inspected the nail for damage, or possibly something substantial to chew on.

I remember having a similar conversation with my
sister.

“At our age they’re more nuisance than anything,
especially when they start hanging around our knees.”

Susannah picked up a magazine and started to flip
through the pages. The sight of her pink tongue flicking in and as she turned
each page put me in mind of one of those large lizards we have back home in
Australia–Goannas we call them. But as I watched her I revised my
observation–better make that a Komodo dragon.

Rosie and I decided by way of sign language, now would
be a good time to take our leave. We said our goodbyes and headed to the back
of the room where people were already shuffling seats to accommodate of our
arrival.

Suddenly a familiar voice boomed across the room… “You
are about to enter the courtroom of Judge Judith Scheindlin…” 

I looked up and saw Mr. Takamura balanced high on his
perch and gave him the thumbs up.

Good thing someone around here is keeping track of the
time.

*****

“Who are you seeing tonight?” Nicola asked as the
table was cleared and fresh coffee placed in front of them.

“A great big bear of a man who goes by the name of
Jinko.”

“Jinko?”

“Jinko Petrovsky. He’s built like a tank with hands
the size of dinner plates. What Jinko doesn’t know about Harley Davidson
motorcycles isn’t worth knowing.”

“Do any of your friends belong to the Hell’s Angel or
some other motorcycle gang?” Nicola asked. Paused, then added, “Do you?”

Danny laughed. “No, I don’t belong to the Hell’s
Angels or any other motorcycle gang. As for some of my friends,” he shrugged.
“Who knows? I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. I know Jinko has some strange
tattoos but most of the guys are just regular guys, like me.”

Nicola’s eyes smiled. “Danny, there is nothing regular
about you.”

Danny laughed. “Oh. And you would be an expert?”

Nicola ran her finger along a deep groove in the wood
table, and said, without looking up, “I really don’t know much about you at
all, Danny. You never talk about yourself.”

Danny shrugged. “Not much to tell. All pretty boring,
really. I’d rather hear about you. Tell me about your college days. It sounds
like you had fun.”

Nicola smiled recalling the good times. “Yes, I did.
They were wonderful heady days where you’re suddenly thrust into a world where
you have the freedom to choose–but, fear the responsibilities that come with
those decisions. You step into a world beyond the safe cocoon of family and
friends. It’s exciting–and scary all at the same time.”

A small child misbehaving at the front entrance drew
Nicola’s attention as a young couple walked in the door holding hands. The
girl, tall and fair had a ready smile; the young man, dark, with pale eyes, was
a good six inches taller.

Nicola decided it was time to tell Danny about Steven.

“I met Steven at college.”

Danny gave a barely perceivable nod, but said nothing.

“I was a freshman, Steven a sophomore. We met at a
party off campus one night halfway into the second semester. It was one of
those, ‘eyes meeting across a crowded room’ scenario, you think only happens in
movies.”

Nicola looked at Danny and tried to read what was
hidden behind his steady, unblinking eyes.

“From that moment on our world was filled with green
and gold days and turquoise-colored nights. “We’d go to parties and discos, and
to the beach with friends, and have picnics in the park. And at night we’d go
for long walks along the beach and watch the waves crawl up the sand. Or we’d
lie on the sand and look up at the stars. God was in His heaven and all was
right with the world,” Nicola said nostalgically as she remembered those heady
days of first love. 

“Our parents got on really well and everyone expected
us to get married when we graduated, and so did we.”

Danny noticed a desolate expression cross her face. He
reached out and took hold of her hand. In the distance a church bell tolled. A
train whistle blew. Someone laughed. People moved around like shadows in their
vision. “Don’t talk about it if you don’t want to, Nic.”

“I want to tell you, Danny. I want you to tell you
everything.”

Danny nodded. “What was Steven like?”

“He was a lot like you.” Nicola dabbed at her eyes
with a napkin. “Six-foot-one, lean and hard muscled, with jet black hair and
incredible eyes. Steven had that look you see on people with dark hair and
brilliant blue eyes framed by long black lashes that curled up at the ends. He
had the kind of looks that takes your breath away,” she said, remembering.
Nicola removed a Kleenex from her bag and wiped her eyes.