Murder as a Second Language (37 page)

I hadn't moved when the phone rang. Groaning, I went into the kitchen. As I'd anticipated, it was my adorable husband. “I have to go to some damn meeting in Fort Smith,” he said. “I'm leaving now, and I should be home by midnight.”

“Meeting?”

“It seems that someone—and I have no idea who—tipped off an CIS agent in Phoenix about criminal activity right here in little ol' Farberville. The guy decided he has to brief us at the regional office instead of here. Why not make it inconvenient for everybody? Bureaucrats!”

“I'll leave the light on for you.” I added some other remarks of a private nature, and we were both giggling when we hung up.

*   *   *

Rick, Austin, and I entered the Literacy Council at eight, having spent the previous hour plotting over coffee at Mucha Mocha. Keiko was already gone. Since Gregory might not be pleased to see me, I sent Austin to tell him that we were having a publicity committee meeting in the back classroom and might stay late. Gregory, it seemed, was not at all interested. The evening class came out of the room and began to leave. I ducked behind a bookshelf until Yelena went out the front door. Some of the cubicles were still occupied. Leslie, accompanied by Aladino and Graciela, went into her office. I didn't care if she'd seen us.

We spread advertising layouts and stencils on the table. Austin loosened his bow tie and produced a bottle of wine from his briefcase. “Might as well enjoy ourselves,” he said, grinning. “What will dear Frances do if she finds out about this? Put me in time-out?”

“She's going to find out about it,” I said, my face grim. “You need to get busy, buddy. The council's about to close its hallowed doors for the night.”

Rick took the corkscrew out of Austin's hand. “If all we wanted was a wine steward, I would have found somebody cheaper.”

“I'm getting paid?”

I urged Austin to do his assigned task and stood outside the room to watch out for Gregory. Everything proceeded without delays. I heard Leslie say good night to the students as they all left. Two Latino men laughed on their way out. I crept to the end of the cubicles and ascertained that only Gregory remained in the building. Five minutes later he came to the doorway and told us that he was leaving. I reminded him not to turn off the lights. He grumbled unpleasantly and stalked down the pathway to the front door. I waited to see if he'd turn off the lights in a snit, but I heard the door bang closed.

Austin and Rick were seated at the table, discussing a scandal involving the college baseball coach. I was too nervous to sit. I paced around the table until I heard a car door slam. “Go,” I said in an urgent voice, “and do try to pay attention.”

They took the bottle of wine into the room where Willie had been found and closed the door. I waited to make sure they left the light off, then sat down at the table and rearranged the layouts as if I could actually make sense of them.

“Hey, Ms. Malloy,” Toby said from the hallway, “what're you doing here by yourself?”

“A committee meeting. Austin and Rick were here earlier, but they abandoned me to go to a party.” I did my best to sound pathetic. “I hate committee meetings, but at least I don't have to listen to other people repeat themselves half the night.”

“Sounds like my history class. The teacher's a big fan of the Civil War, so no matter what the subject is, he finds a way to start talking about it.”

I smiled. “I may have had the same teacher, although he preferred the French Revolution. It's amazing how it seems to have affected every single thing that happened afterward.” I pushed a paper. “I'd better get back to this.”

“And I'd better get back to my mop.” He gave me a salute and returned to the main part of the building.

I wished I'd accepted a glass of wine. I twisted my fingers into pretzels while pretending to be absorbed by the array of meaningless material. I gave him half an hour and then went to find him. “Toby, my daughter might call on the phone here. Please answer it and let me know. I won't be able to hear it in the copy room.”

He tugged on a stray lock of hair as he stared at me. “What are you gonna do in the copy room? Oh, I get it—you're going to make copies.” He found this mildly hilarious. I overlooked it because of his age.

“No, I'm not going to make any copies. Earlier I was talking to someone who told me there might be a clue to the identity of Ludmila's killer in the room. Something the police missed because they didn't know it was significant. I had to wait until Rick and Austin left because”—I'd forgotten to script this moment—“I don't want to tell anyone until I'm sure. Don't worry about it. Just come find me if Caron calls.”

I went into the copy room. It was as dismal as it had been a week ago, but even dirtier because surfaces had been dusted for fingerprints. I sneezed as I stepped over an empty box. The copy machine feigned innocence, but I wasn't fooled. I examined it as if it were a vault rumored to be filled with gold bullion. When I pushed a button, a green light began to blink. I pushed another button that aroused a red light and a series of beeps. The machine hummed as I found more buttons. I lifted the cover and discovered a workbook page that had been left by mistake. I balanced on a two-legged stool and read over it. It proved to be a less than scintillating story about a woman buying fruit in a market.

Fifteen minutes had passed, and I began to wonder if I'd made a miscalculation. Teenagers are hard to predict, since they rarely know themselves what they might do next. I was sneezing on a regular schedule, and my lungs were beginning to ache. I could recite the order in which the workbook woman purchased fruit. I didn't dare pull another book off the shelves, since I would be rewarded with a cloud of dust. I was almost ready to give up when Toby appeared in the doorway.

“Excuse me, Ms. Malloy, but maybe I can help. I could hear you sneezing from the other classroom. What are you looking for?”

“A DNA sample. Apparently whoever was in here with Ludmila had an itchy scalp.” I tried not to react as his hand, which had been scratching behind his ear, dropped to his side. “All it takes is one single hair to confirm a match that's ninety-nine percent accurate. Isn't science amazing?”

“Guess you didn't find one, huh?”

“I've found several hairs.” I held up a small plastic bag that conveniently happened to contain several hairs (from Peter's hairbrush). “I think I'll take these straight to the police lab before I lose them. Of course, the crime scene techs can always find more, now that they know what to look for.”

He remained in the doorway, his arms crossed. His demeanor had changed as I spoke. His boyish grin was now a tight-lipped scowl. I was quite sure his body had swelled to block the entire doorway. “Nobody knows about these stupid hairs?”

“The police just hate it when civilians meddle in their investigations. If I went to them without evidence, they'd laugh me out of the PD.” I dangled the bag. “They won't be laughing after I show this to them.”

“That's not such a good idea, Ms. Malloy. A lot of people come in here all the time. I clean in here every couple of days. Those hairs don't mean anything. They could belong to anybody.”

“Including you,” I said, nodding, “although I thought I heard that you never clean in here. Didn't you tell the police you hadn't even opened the door?”

His eyes narrowed like those of an irritable snake. “So I got confused when they asked me all those questions. It's no big deal. I think you ought to toss that bag in the trash and forget about it, Ms. Malloy.”

“I wish Miao could forget as easily, but she's having a hard time. I really felt sorry for her when I talked to her today.”

“You talked to her? Gimme a break. She doesn't know enough English to talk to a dog. She minces around like she thinks she's on a runway, all flirty and coy.” I could swear his body was still swelling, and in a matter of seconds, his head would bump the top of the door frame. I gulped back a snicker.

“Her English isn't as limited as you think,” I lied smoothly. “She told me what happened. Maybe I misunderstood her. I can't be sure. I need to tell the police where she is so they can get her with a translator.”

“Where is she?”

“I'll tell you after you've told me what really happened in here. There's no reason why you should be in trouble if she lied to me—or, as I said, I misunderstood her.”

He was watching the bag with a greedy expression. I had no clue what to do if he crowded into the room and snatched it out of my hand. I relaxed a tad when he said, “If I tell you, it stays in this room. You okay with that?”

“Absolutely. I give you my solemn promise I won't repeat it.” I didn't add that keeping promises was not among my more admirable traits. “It was all her fault, wasn't it?”

Toby realized his hand had crept up to his head and hastily put it at his side. “Yeah, I got here maybe earlier than I said, and there she was, creeping around in the dark like a spy. She about fell over her own feet when I turned on the lights. All I was gonna do was tell her to beat it when she started whimpering and then took off scurrying like a little bunny rabbit. I thought it was so damn funny, so I decided to play her game. I finally caught her trying to hide in here. I thought I deserved a reward. I picked her up and set her on the copy machine. She was wailing, so I had to shake her until she got quiet. Then, just as I was unzipping my pants, in barges this ugly fat woman, and she's screaming at me in some crazy language. She came right at me with her claws, so I had to defend myself. It was a friggin' nightmare. The China doll's back to wailing and this monster is going for my eyes. Somehow the monster trips and crashes into the copy machine.” He stopped, as if I should be satisfied with his description of the events.

“Why didn't you call nine-one-one? You couldn't know if she was dead.”

Toby looked at me as if I'd pulled a worm out of my mouth. “And get busted for attempted rape? I may not be at the top of my class, but I'm not that stupid. I'm the starting quarterback this year.”

“That may not happen.” A soon as I'd said it, I knew I'd made a mistake. There was no way to rewind the tape and erase my comment. And now I was quite sure his head was touching the top of the door frame, and likely to splinter it.

He chewed on his lip until it began to bleed. I assessed my chances of darting between his legs. My backup team had yet to show their faces. I heard voices in the distance, apt to be patrons going into the sports bar. He finally looked at me. “I'm sorry about this, Ms. Malloy, but I'm going to ask you to give me that bag and tell me where Miao is. I can't let her go around telling lies, even if nobody can make out what she's saying.”

“You're the only person who seems to have trouble understanding me. Take the bag. You can vacuum this room all night, but you'll still miss a stray hair. The crime scene investigators have very fancy equipment designed to find every last strand of DNA.”

“If they know to look. The thing is, Ms. Malloy, you're not going to tell anyone about what I said tonight. If you do and I'm arrested, I'll get out on bail because my father's all straightlaced and a big deal at the college. I sure had a good time with Inez the other day, and I know she and your daughter go to the lake all the time. They just seem to go everywhere, don't they?”

A sour taste flooded my mouth. “Are you threatening to harm them if I don't cooperate? Is that what you're saying, Toby? Just go ahead and spit it out.”

“Yeah, I guess that's what I mean. If you turn me in, your pretty daughter's gonna need braces and a new nose. Maybe skin grafts all over her face.”

He had the audacity to sneer at me, which made my words all the sweeter. “Guess what, Toby, you're going to be a big star sooner than you think. See that little red light way up there in the corner? It's a video camera, and it's captured every vile thing you've said. You'd better go home and find your toothbrush, because you're going to be in a cell before midnight.” I did not mention the shiny paper and bow on his head.

“What's gonna stop me from climbing up there and ripping it off the wall?”

This was the moment the Mounties were supposed to yank him out of the doorway and kick him senseless. I tried to peer around him. “I lied when I told you Austin and Rick abandoned me. They're here, and they've heard everything you said.”

“Those two preppie boys? I'll stuff 'em in the Dumpster on my way out. Cleaning up is my job, and I don't want to get hassled for leaving garbage on the floor.” He held up a fist, which I estimated to be the size of a medium cantaloupe. I had to admit Rick and Austin had more charm than brawn. This was a minor wrinkle we'd failed to anticipate. Peter was in Fort Smith, due to my deductive prowess. Jorgeson was in his comfy living room with his wife, munching popcorn or whatever they did. If Yelena had been there, she could have mesmerized him (or put him into a stupor) with a melodramatic presentation of a Russian opera.

It was my turn to laugh, scoff, or plead with him. I was juggling the options when I heard Austin say, “You heard what Ms. Malloy said, boy. You run along and get that toothbrush ready to go.”

He spun around. “You gonna make me, little man?”

“No,” Austin said, “but my gun might persuade you to do as you're told. Otherwise, I'll shoot you in one of those fine, manly kneecaps. You won't be able to play quarterback on the prison team.”

Toby glared at me over his shoulder before he hurried down the pathway. Seconds later, his car roared and squealed out of the parking lot. I sank down on the stool, which was a mistake. As Austin helped me to my feet, I said, “Is that a real gun?”

“I have no idea. I found it in the prop room at the TV station, so I assume it's fake. Should we find out?”