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Going Through the Notions(82)

By:Cate Price


Eleanor gave her statement first, and then me, although apart from my fleeting sight of a truck speeding away, but no license plate number, I’m not sure how much useful information we provided.

“Normally I’d have asked if you could think of anyone who might harbor a grudge against you, but I guess we have a whole building full of candidates now.” Detective Serrano set down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “We’ll be checking the bullets we find against any firearms owned by those guys we nailed tonight.”

There was a pause in the conversation. I pictured Ramsbottom being taken into custody at that moment. It was odd. I should have been triumphant, but all I felt was vaguely depressed. He had a wife and son, too. How would they cope?

“So you’re from New York?” Joe asked.

Serrano nodded. “Originally.”

Jeez. It was like trying to pull personal information out of Cyril.

Martha came into the prep room with a tray. “They found a bullet lodged in the Walker seed counter!” she announced breathlessly. She set five mugs down on the table, plus sugar, cream, and a plate of her maple pecan tarts.

Eleanor took two tarts. One for safety, I guessed.

I sipped my coffee black, sighing as the bracing taste steadied my nerves. “Detective, I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Jimmy Kratz murder, but there were rumors that Jimmy was also involved in the gambling ring. I don’t know whether there’s any connection between that and his death.”

Detective Serrano jotted a note on his pad. “I’ve been assigned to the Kratz case, so I’ll check into it. It definitely makes more sense than killing him over some old fountain pens.”

“They’re not just some old pens,” I blurted out. I sounded like Fiona now. I took a deep breath. “I’ve seen photos of them. I know it might sound crazy, but they are truly beautiful. Works of art, in fact.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Detective Serrano finished his maple pecan tart with relish. “I’ll tell you what is a work of art. This fricking pastry.”

Martha winked at me.

“So what’s new with the case?” I asked as casually as I could. And why had he been assigned to it?

“Well, for one thing, I’m pissed off at the way things have been handled with this whole fricking murder investigation. Sorry, ladies, excuse my language.”

“It’s okay.” I liked this guy. He was plainspoken, but I appreciated his candor. He looked elegant and conservative, but he spoke like a true New Yorker.

He leaned forward and took another tart. “First off, they should never have lifted prints from the barn beam on-site. Prints from a rough surface like unfinished wood need to be done in the lab. Second, I’ve speeded up the results from the autopsy. They should have been back by now. Ridiculous. Third, I’m going over every inch of this case. Every interview, every step of crime scene procedure, and all the way along the chain of custody.”

I grinned as I set down my coffee mug. I really liked this guy. Maybe Angus would stand a chance now with a new detective on the scene.

“Mom! Mom!” Sarah rushed into the room with Peter close behind. “Oh my God! I just got Daddy’s message. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Poor Alice is a little worse for wear, though.”

Detective Serrano stood up. “Well, I think we’re done here. I’ll leave you folks to it.” He handed me his card. “Call me if you think of anything else.”

“Thank you.” Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that.

There was so much I hadn’t told him yet. About the oil change and proof that Angus didn’t drive back to Jimmy’s. About Ramsbottom’s vendetta. About Carla and her crazy ex-boyfriend. And of course, there was the pen, wrapped in my handkerchief at the bottom of my pocketbook. Explaining how I came to be in possession of it would have been beyond the limits of my energy tonight.

“Do me a favor, Ms. Buchanan. I’ll place an extra patrol along the street, but don’t be here by yourself late at night. Maybe shorten the store hours for a while until we figure this thing out.”

Joe smiled at the detective and shook his hand.

After the police left, Martha grabbed a broom and started sweeping up the broken glass. Joe took the tarp that Peter had brought along and tacked it up over the shattered window. Eleanor picked up Alice and set her back in her familiar corner.

The sight of the bullet hole in the mannequin that someone obviously mistook for me suddenly made my head swim. I grabbed hold of Sarah for support.

“Mom, are you okay?”

Who could possibly hate me enough to try to kill me?