The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 (48 page)

~

Sitting under the dryer at the department store’s walk-in
salon, I was nursing a double espresso.  I wriggled my toes in my new running
shoes.  I was still wearing the cargo pants and black t-shirt that Harry
bought.  It wasn’t time to get dressed yet.  I broke the bank on my outfit.  It
was a short but high-necked cocktail dress.  I couldn’t bear Manfred ogling my
breasts.  I opted for a cross body purse in which I had filled with several
items of a lethal nature, including the knife so generously loaned to me by the
nurse.  If Manfred was the killer, I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. 
My cell phone rang.

“Mom,” I heard Alex’s voice faintly.  I lifted the dryer hood
so I could hear.  “Harry’s down showing the troops the passage.  We’re going to
hang out here until show time.  How are you doing?”

“I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I want to be on a plane out of here,” I admitted.
“Plus, I’ve got this bad feeling that our actions are being orchestrated.”

“I know you hate being out of control.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Call me when you leave the restaurant.  Don’t go back to
our house.  Harry and I will meet up with you, and we’ll drive to the beach
together.”

I agreed and hung up.  I lowered the hood and closed my
eyes.  Memories flashed, starting with the family and working into my trip to
England.  I winced at the flashes of danger I had put myself and those I loved
in.  I wanted to claim it wasn’t my fault, but I knew better.  Father Williams
was the last face I saw before I was pulled out of my mind by the hairdresser
lifting the hood of the dryer.

“Time to comb out,” the cleverly coiffed young woman said,
guiding me to her chair.  “Next time let’s attack those grays, Ms. Fin-Lathen.”

My eyes opened wide as I sat down and saw what she was
talking about.  In the last few days my temples had gone completely white!  I
looked like the bride of Frankenstein.  I restrained from screaming at the
visage of the fully dilated, monster face surrounded by giant pink rollers.  As
she took each one out, the bounce of the large curl helped soften the death
mask before me.  “How the hell did this happen?” I asked myself. 

“Maybe we’ll send you over to cosmetics.  Couldn’t hurt.”

I read her name tag through the mirror.  “Mary, it’s been a
hard few days.”

She rolled her eyes and began to work a miracle with my
hair.

~

I parked my own car at the Queen Palm.  I backed it in so I
could have a quick getaway.  I slid off my sneakers and on the Cole shoes.  I
maneuvered my legs out of the car and manage to not show my underpants to any
passerby as I leveraged my body out of the roadster.  Standing tall, I smoothed
the dress and rued the moment I thought more leg showing would be a good idea. 
I placed my phone in my purse and sighed as I felt the contents of the purse
were in place.  Earlier I had taped the knife to my back as it wouldn’t fit in
the bag.  I would have to reach up under my skirt to get at it but I hoped I
wouldn’t need it tonight.

I strode with purpose, smiling at the valet as I swung my
straightened curls over my shoulder and waited for the doorman.  I received
back a nice leer, but after all, it was dark outside.  Still this gave me the confidence
to enter the Queen Palm at exactly seven thirty.

Manfred Tuttle never really seemed an imposing man to me. 
True, he was tall, broad but, I assumed, soft.  His hands were deceptively
strong.  The hand that grasped the small of my back - just inches below where I
had taped my knife - as he walked me to our table wasn’t frail.  In accordance
with my request, we were seated at a table overlooking the Intercostal
Waterway.  I had forgotten that the Queen Palm was a three story drop from
where the host was pulling out my chair.  I teetered a bit on my heels as I sat
down, grabbing at my hem to make sure the short skirt covered my ample
derrière.

“It is a delightful evening.  Do you not agree?” Manfred
said as he perused the wine list.  His manner of not using contractions
bothered me, but I tried not to let my brows knit together or wince when he
said, “Are you a red or a white, wine that is.  They have a Johannesburg
Riesling here that is truly magnificent.”

“You choose.  I have to admit my pallet has a high school
education,” I said smiling.

“Tut tut, my dear, it is never too late to learn.  I expect
it was Boones Farm behind the bleachers.”

The bastard!  How did he know?  “Well, you know, I quickly
moved on to drinks of the amber color.”

He tapped the list.  “Let us try the Poully Fuisse.  I never
get to drink it because Tobias is not a fan.”

“Speaking of Tobias, where is he?”

“He had some chores to finish.  He said to go ahead and
order him an appetizer.  He will not be long.”  Manfred raised his hand to get
the attention of our waiter.  “Let us have some wine and get reacquainted.”

The waiter appeared, and I was able to push down the rising
bile while the two of them conferred over the wine list.  I wanted to excuse
myself and go to the bathroom.  Hiding there would kill a few minutes, but I
feared my shoes and the architect’s idea of flooring didn’t mesh.  The
simulated bleached flooring had gaps between the boards, stiletto-sized gaps. 
Navigating to my seat had required Manfred’s aid but leaving would be my own
undertaking.  Just getting out of the chair and the vertigo of being so near
the edge made falling a distinct possibility.

“Cynthia?” Manfred’s voice bore into my skull.

I realized that the waiter had left, and perhaps Manfred had
been waiting a few moments.  “I’m sorry,” I apologized, “lost in my thoughts.”

“No problem, my dear, you have had a busy week.”

Oh yes, I had a busy week you pompous moron.  Four murders,
several more attempted, one attempted on me, and a missing police detective to
find, was what I was thinking, but I said, “I’ve had better.”

“Tell me.  I am a great listener.”

Could have fooled me with all the wasted rehearsal time, I
wanted to say but thought better of it.  “Manfred, I don’t know how I got into
the mess I’m in.”

I had to give the man credit.  He actually seemed concerned
as I recapped the story, being careful to edit out anything that would give
this man power, if he was indeed the killer.  I didn’t mention that I knew Tony
was gone or where I was now living. 

“No one was more surprised than I, when I received Bernice’s
phone call.  Why would anyone want to hurt me or Tobias for that matter?”  Manfred
asked, opening his napkin and settling it into his lap.

“I thought I had the answers,” I told him, “but no longer.”

The waiter arrived with the wine and Manfred went through
the tasting and acceptance of the bottle.  It seemed to take forever before my
glass was poured.

Manfred held up his glass, “Salute.”

I raised mine and echoed, “Salute.”

A cold chill followed by an army of goose bumps assaulted my
body as Manfred’s stocking foot moved into my space and began to put pressure
on my leg as it moved upwards.  How far did he intend to go in this public
place?  His foot suddenly left my leg and ensconced itself in the patent
leather loafer.  My blood warmed, and I avoided his eyes by looking into the
restaurant.  I saw the reason for his retreat walking in the door, following
the host to our table.  Tobias had arrived.

~

Looking back, the meal was a pleasant, fun affair.  Tobias
who I had rarely heard speak before was filled with clever stories and trivia
about many of the composers whose music we frequently played.  He sat next to
me, freeing me from further assaults of Manfred’s foot.  All too soon, coffee
was served and dessert discussed.  I gave in to the calories and told Manfred
to order me something decadent.  I excused myself and, with great
concentration, managed to make it to the ladies room without falling over. I
took out my cell phone and called, first, Dave to let him know I would be
leaving soon.  No answer.  I next tried Pete.  Same.  I panicked a moment and
remembered that if they were in the tunnel they may not have cell reception.  I
called Alex, nothing.  Irritated, I called Harry and told his voicemail that if
he and Alex were anywhere near the assault team to let them know that as of
9:30PM Manfred and Tobias were no longer being watched by me.  I also warned
Harry to get himself and Alex the hell out of there or I would kill them
myself.

I finished my business and checked the knife’s placement
before exiting the stall.  Washing my hands, I ran through the plan again and
again.  There should have been someone there to take my call.  Maybe the people
that Pete put in place at the restaurant would notify the team.  I didn’t see
anyone I recognized as I passed through, but if they were doing their jobs
correctly I shouldn’t have been able to pick them out.

Worried but determined to finish my role, I left the safe
confines of the ladies room and walked back to our table.  Manfred was ordering
desert when I arrived.  Tobias was gone.

“Tobias?”

“He had a call and had to leave.  He asked me to thank you
again for saving our lives and for joining us for dinner,” Manfred explained.

“Oh, okay, sorry I took so long but nature...”

Manfred waved aside my apology.  “I have ordered us a treat
and let us have a gossip while we eat.”  His eyes lit up.  “I’ll go first.  Did
you know that a certain trumpet player...”

I listened to the gossip and added a few harmless bits of
dirt myself.  Together we laughed and pushed innuendo to the breaking point. 
The cheesecake he ordered was paired with bitter coffee.  If I hadn’t seen the
waiter pour it myself I would have suspected something was in it besides
chicory.  Before I knew it, a half hour had elapsed.  I looked at my watch.

“Getting late, my dear?”  Manfred tsk tsked at the poor form
of checking the time on a dinner date.  He signaled for the waiter and the
check arrived pronto.

“I’m sorry, Manfred, I’m expecting a call from overseas.  I
don’t want to miss it. I hope you understand.  Business.”

Manfred signed the check, adding an impressive tip.  He
looked appeased at my phony baloney excuse and said, “Cynthia, it was a
pleasure.  We should do this again sometime soon.”  He got up and escorted me
to the door.

Manfred held his hand out, and I grasped it firmly.  He
smiled.  “Valet ticket, my dear?”

Blushing and removing my hand, I stammered, “I parked
myself, don’t like the way they drive my car.”

He pulled out his valet ticket and held open the door for
me.  I waited for his car to arrive and for him to drive away before painfully
making my way to where I had parked my roadster. 

I couldn’t find it at first.  It was obscured from my view by
a large, white Ford Econovan.  The last few yards to the car sealed my vow to
hunt down Kenneth Cole and assault him with my shoes. I reached it and popped
the trunk.  I pulled out my sneakers and walked over and opened the driver’s
side door.  I remember bending over to unbuckle a shoe and thought I heard
someone behind me.  I whipped my head around in time to see a cloth-covered
hand clamp to my face.  I tried not to breath and fought the hand.  I tried in
vain to twist my body and push out of the car, but my shoes could not gain
traction.  Soon I felt a wave of dizziness and I blacked out.

Harry’s face grinned at me, and I saw him light a match.  “Follow
me, Cin,” his voice echoed in my mind.  I tried to move my legs to catch up
with him, but my feet felt weighted.  I looked down and saw I had on block
shoes similar to the kind the Frankenstein monster wore.  Harry was moving
quickly away down a dark passage that took a dog leg to the right.  I turned
the corner, and out of the blackness Father Williams loomed.

“Thank God, how did you know?” I asked him.

“Know what?  That you love me?”  He smiled cruelly and
tapped his dog collar. “Shame on you!”  But it wasn’t his voice chiding me but
his aunt’s.

“No, you don’t understand.  Help me, Michael!”  My words
just seemed to irritate him.  He turned his back on me and walked away.  I was
left alone in the dark.  I dropped to the floor hard.  My arms twisted behind
me as I fell.  The floor yielded this time, no longer tile but wood.

I opened my eyes and cleared the nightmare from my head. 
But waking only took me into another nightmare, this one too real.  “Hello?” I
said quietly, not expecting an answer but dreading the thought of who or what
would answer me.

There was no light where I was.  The air I breathed was
humid and stale.  The darkness pushed down on me for a moment but my eyes
adjusted quickly.  I found myself on a wood floor - I suspected the Avery Theatre. 
I lay on my side, and my cheek felt bruised from where my face contacted the
floor when I was dropped.  Fighting to stay awake, I tested my body and found
my hands bound at the wrists by cable ties, my ankles likewise and my shoes
were still on which amazed and horrified me.  My shoulders were in agony from
the pressure of having my hands bound behind me.  I wiggled my fingers and
moved them as far as my binding would let me up my back.  By some miracle the
knife was still there.

I grabbed the taped knife along with a handful of dress
fabric and pulled at it, working it until the tape gave.  I felt the knife drop
and I wiggled my body until I was able to with gut wrenching pain sit up.  The
hem of my dress had ridden up to my waist, no time for modesty, as I continued
to twist and turn my body until I heard the knife hit the floor behind me.  I
stopped breathing for a moment, straining my ears to see if my kidnapper had
heard the sound.  No one came. 

Frantically, my fingers sought the knife.  Finally I felt
the cold steel of the switchblade.  I concentrated until I had it securely in
my hands, and I opened it.  The blade faced away from me.  I breathed deeply to
calm my shaking hands. Guiding the knife between my bonds and my skin, I sawed
at the unyielding plastic. 

I dropped the knife as the bounds fell free.  It took me too
many precious seconds before I located it again.  Next I reached between my
legs and with a firm hold on the knife sawed through the double ties around my
ankles.  I pulled my legs in towards me and tried to remove the stiletto shoes
to no avail.  The bastard had duck taped the torture devices to my feet.  I
tugged and looked for some way of cutting through the tape.  There must have
been a half a roll of tape on each shoe, crisscrossing around and around until
the shoe was now part of my foot.

The string of curses that formed in my mind was stopped as I
didn’t want to alert my captor to my state of consciousness, if he was in
earshot.  How the hell was I going to get to my feet, let alone walk in the
dark on these stilts?  I closed the knife, keeping it in my right hand ready
for whatever befell me next.  Rolling over I got on my hands and knees.  I
carefully drew one knee forward until I had the shod foot under me securely.  I
brought the other in until I was squatting, teetering for a moment.  I thanked
God I wasn’t in a pencil skirt as the freeness of my short dress allowed me to,
in a very unladylike manner, pull myself upward with my taxed and burning thigh
muscles.

It seemed like it took hours, but in reality it was only
seconds.  I stood, stretching anything that would stretch.  I pulled down the
skirt of my dress as far as it would go.  I gripped the closed knife in my
hand, positioned to open the blade at the slightest sound.

I took a few tentative steps and found a wall in front of
me.  I ran my hand along it until I felt a door.  To my surprise it wasn’t
locked.  Quietly with slow movements, I twisted the nob and opened the door.  I
found myself at the rear of the stage.  My temporary prison was an empty
equipment room.  There was more light here, given grudgingly by the exit signs
that glowed red and white in the distance.  I walked to the nearest door and
found it was locked and chained.  I tried each door as I came to it and found
that I may have escaped from my bounds but I was secured in a bigger cage.

I walked to the center of the stage and peered out into the
dimly lit audience.  I felt the stage shudder, and I stepped back just in time
as the front part of the stage started to lower.  Under normal conditions this
would transform into a place for the orchestra or band during a musical or
revue.  The outer wall would shield the band from the sight of the audience. 
There were exits on either side leading to the lower levels of the theater.  I
knew from past experience that the controls were downstairs.  Once the stage
was lowered, a trap door groaned and lowered behind me.  It scared the shit out
of me.  I stumbled to the side just as a spotlight hit me in the face.

“Careful, my dear,” Manfred’s voice boomed through the
theater’s sound system.

“Manfred?”  I put my hand up to shield my eyes.  “What are
you doing here?”

“Come on, Cynthia, you are a better player than that.  I am
here for you.”

Another groan signaled the ascent of the trap door
platform.  I couldn’t see anything with the spot on me.  I was just about ready
to flee when the spot cut off on me and centered on the contents of the trap
platform.  Doctor Sanders stood with out-reached arms, one hand holding a
baton, the other flowers.  I inched closer and saw that, like Carl, his eyes were
open and he was dead.  Flower blossoms were stuffed in his mouth, ears, and
nose.  There were flowers under his tux shirt, coming out of the sleeves and
pockets of his black coat and tails, and there were flowers shoved in his
shoes.

I wanted to scream and run away.  The high-heeled shoes
wouldn’t get me far, but with enough stealth I could hide myself until the
cavalry came to the rescue.  Where were they?  Were they waiting in the wings? 
Hello, my brain shouted.  Olly olly in come free!  Alex?  Harry?  Where are
you?  Panic set in, and I stopped breathing.  Was I alone?  What trick of fate
had put me at the mercy of Manfred and, most certainly, Tobias?  A tear fell
from my eye.  I almost gave into the dark, but damn, I had survived worse, and
if I kept my wits about me I could certainly outfox my captors.  I focused and
made myself take in slow careful breaths until I could stand there without
shaking.  Harry’s voice filled my head, “This killer is counting on you to do
your normal Fin-Lathen thing.  You have to think different here.”

I settled myself down and faced the theater.  “Very
colorful.  Doctor of Botany exposed.  Must have taken some time.  Are those
lilies of the valley?”  I reached over and plucked a stem out of Doctor
Sanders’s lapel.  “Convallaria majalis.  Very good.  Did you have them
shipped?”  Okay, guys, time to come to my rescue.  No one.  God help me.  I
struggled to keep in control.  “This explains the missing conductor, but where
is Tony?”

“He is here.  I believe Tobias is playing with him.”

“Why?” I demanded.

“He was very dismissive of Tobias and I.  Treated us like we
did not matter.  He did not even have us on his top five suspect list.”

“How would you know?”

“We asked him.  He had the audacity to laugh in our faces.” 
Manfred put the spot back on me.  “So, how have you been enjoying the game we
have been playing?  No, do not tell me.  I can see it on your face. Hmm?”

“Actually, I was just thinking that you are pretty poor at
planning.  Killing one cop is well, poor form, but two is amateurish.”  I eased
back on one leg and tried to look bored.  “What were you thinking?  You could
have caught Miles any time.  But you had to be a show off and kill him right
after our meeting.”  I walked right up to the edge of the pit.  “Tell me, were
you listening in?”  I laughed.  “How pathetic.  I’m leaving.” I turned to walk
with as much dignity as I could in my shoes.

“Cynthia, what about Tony?” Manfred’s voice showed a slight
tremor.

I turned back around.  “I assume he is dead already. 
Prematurely killed.  Tell me. Is premature a life style for you?”  I tapped my
foot.  “Play your little games.” I started to leave, then stopped.  “You blew
it.  You almost impressed me.”

“What do you mean almost?” Manfred was pissed.

“You started off strong.  You used plant poisons, and then
you copped out and used arsenic.  Come on.  Right there you went flaccid. 
Great clues, great messages, great timing and then you use arsenic?  So
common.”  I paused shaking my head.  Staring straight into the light, I addressed
Manfred, “I used to like you.  I ran all the way to save you and Tobias, and
then you play a lame hand and kill two cops.”

“Only one cop,” Manfred clarified.

So Tony was still alive.  Okay, Dave, where are your men? 
Damn. Keep cool, Cin. I told myself.  “You reused poisons.  Curare, take me to
a freaking Tarzan movie.  Now Carl, that was cool.  Very theatric.  You - or
was it Tobias - faced him and killed him.”  I waited for an answer.  None
came.  I heard a slight movement in the pit under me.  I inched my way to the
edge.  I saw Tony’s white shirt against the darkness.  Where was Tobias?  “Oh,
are you too intimidated to talk to me?  Hell, I have better things to do.”  I
jumped into the pit for effect.

As I was falling, I thought that this probably was the
stupidest thing I have ever done.  Jump into the pool with the sharks why don’t
you, Cin.  Idiot!  I landed, surprised that my shoes held.  I regained my
balance, turned and put my back to the solid wall.  I opened the knife and held
it the way Brent showed me. I stared into the darkness of the pit.  The one
benefit to my eye condition I discovered was that I could see very well in the
dark.  Before me was a white cloth-covered table and two chairs.  On the table
were wine glasses and a bottle of red.  It looked as if someone was setting a
scene.

A sliding sound directed my gaze away, and I saw Tobias
inching around trying to come up on the other side of me.  He had something in
his hand.  I didn’t wait to find out what it was.  I lunged forward and slashed
at his arm causing him to drop the spray bottle he was holding.  It clattered
to the floor.  Tobias didn’t even make a sound.  He calmly slid his hand into
his pocket and came up with a syringe and punched it into the direction of my
chest.  I slashed at him a second time, catching his outstretched arm.  The
needle went flying.  I slashed again.  This time I connected with his abdomen. 
He still didn’t make a sound, but he did fall. I waited a moment, and he didn’t
move.

“That’s for Carl, you weasel.”  I ran over to where I had
spotted Tony.  I reached over and found him unconscious but still alive.  I
dragged him out of the pit and over towards the stairs and cut his bonds with
the bloody knife.  I shook and slapped his face to awaken him.  He was trying
to open his eyes, but whatever he was drugged with was too strong.  It became
apparent that he wasn’t going to be able to help me.

Summoning all my strength, I lifted him under his arms and
looked for some place safe to stash him.  I caught sight of a curtained alcove.
I pulled him into the recess, closed the curtain, and ran - more like model
stomped - out of there.  I hit the steps two at a time, my thighs burning as I
hauled myself up the stairs and ran back on to the stage.  I stopped at the
stage manager’s desk to catch my breath.  Mary mother of God was with me.  There
on the desk - left no doubt by a college vocal major -were several very useful
items.

Having no purse or even a plastic sack to carry the bounty,
I cursed until I was served with flash of inspiration.  I smiled as I put an
atomizer and digital recorder inside the outer leg of my panties like a
Wimbledon player would store her tennis balls.  If I played my cards right I
would get Manfred to boast his crimes.  Get it on the recorder for the police.

I entered the seating area of the theater through a side
stair.  There didn’t seem to be any movement above me.  Manfred must be on the
move. 

Where were Alex and Harry?  Damn it, Dave, what went wrong? 
I was scanning the rows as I ran up and out into the lobby.  Where were the
police?  I picked up the payphone receiver only to find the cord had been cut. 
Did I have enough time to reach Miles’s office upstairs?  If Manfred was
manning the spot, then he was up in the balcony.  So I would have to be wary. I
started for the stairs when I heard the elevator coming down.  I stomped over
to the solo lift and turned around, scanning the area to find my best
advantage.

Benches lined the walls opposite with comfy cushions on
them.  I stopped, pulled out the recorder, pressed record, and set it on the
cushion behind me.  I sat down with my back against the wall with my legs
crossed, positioned directly in front of the elevator door. I winced as I
studied the silver tape that wound around my ankle and foot covering my shoe. 
The removal of the tape would ruin my expensive shoes.  True, I hated these
shoes, but it was the principal of the thing that angered me.