Act V (11 page)

“
Wait a minute. You know
Dorsey Timmons?”

She smiled. “It’s a small town,
Detective.”

“
How small?”
“He’s my ex-fiancé.”

“
No kidding! Too bad for
him!”

“
You mean the
ex
part or the
fiancé
part?”

His smile made him look
years younger. “The
ex
part. What kind of idiot would break up with you?”

She blushed. “Long story. At any rate,
I just wanted you to know that Dorsey’s a real jerk sometimes, but
he’s not a killer. He’s not likely to swat at a cockroach unless he
found it in his beer.”

“
That was our impression
too, but we can’t exactly take him off the list yet.” He grabbed
another slice. “Have some more.”

She did, relieved that Dorsey wasn’t
being seriously considered as a suspect. “There’s something else,
but I don’t know if it means anything.”

“
Go on.”

“
It’s probably just me. It’s
too weird to be a real…”

“
Glynnis, it’s okay. Just
tell me. We have no real leads and even far-fetched is helpful
right now. It’s not like this kind of thing happens all the time
here. We’re well trained on the procedures, but it’s not often we
actually put them into action very often.”

She looked at him carefully,
wondering if he would think she was nuts when she finished. Then
she plunged in. “Brice, have you ever read
Hamlet
?”

*****

He perused the topics on his laptop at
a very leisurely speed. No hurry here. Networking sites like
Facebook and Twitter had made his quest so much easier. People,
especially teens and young adults, put it all out there for the
world to see. If you wanted, you could befriend someone thousands
of miles away, or right next door. That was the beauty of these
sites. You could find out how someone was feeling, how their latest
date had turned out, or who had some lovely sexually transmitted
disease if they were stupid enough to put that online. Of course,
many prudent souls restricted viewers to only those they wished to
share with, but not everyone. He only needed to find someone that
inspired him. Why, if one desired, one could find out a person’s
past difficulties and future plans. Occasionally they even gave a
real name or address. Wasn’t the internet a wonderful
tool!

Too bad the old man didn’t
think so. “Good old-fashioned elbow grease,” he’d told him over and
over again. He could quote him verbatim. “That’s how I got mine,
boy and that’s how you’ll get yours.” It rankled him that the fool
had the gall to call him
boy
and to try and act like his father, even now,
after so many years. Jerk.

His Styrofoam cup from the
one-on-every-corner coffee shop, collapsed in his hand His arm was
flooded with lukewarm coffee. He took a cleansing breath and wiped
up the mess with a hand towel. Back to work. Find your muse. He
tapped the keys and a fresh, happy face smiled back from the
screen. He felt better already.

*****

They decided to go somewhere they could
be comfortable. As soon as Brice lowered himself onto the couch,
Carl jumped into his lap and started sniffing his mouth.

“
Carl! I’m sorry, Brice. But
he likes you.”

Brice laughed and rubbed the
dog’s neck. “It’s okay, I like him too. Now tell me about
Hamlet
. And go slowly—it’s
been a long time since Senior English.”

“
Okay, but
Hamlet
’s just too long and
complicated to give you the whole story, so I’ll do the cheat notes
version.” She sat back in the recliner. “You may as well get
comfortable.”

“
I’m good.
Shoot.”

“
Okay, Hamlet, the Prince of
Denmark, returns home to his father’s funeral. Shortly thereafter,
his uncle, that is-his father’s brother, marries Hamlet’s
mother—his own sister-in-law. Is this sounding
familiar?”

“
A little…go on.”

“
Okay, Hamlet’s already
ticked off about that when his father’s ghost appears and tells him
that Claudius, the uncle, is responsible for his death by poison.
Hamlet goes a little nuts and vows revenge.” Brice covered a yawn.
“Am I boring you?”

His eyes lit up with mischief.
“Shakespeare, maybe, but you…never!” He stifled another yawn.
“No…long day…go ahead, tell me the rest.”

“
Fine. So Hamlet wants to
prove that his uncle murdered his father. He tries a whole bunch of
things and only manages to accidentally kill his girlfriend’s
father, resulting in her subsequent insanity and suicide. Claudius
figures that Hamlet is getting a little too close, so he tries to
have him killed on a ship. When that doesn’t work, he sets his
nephew/stepson up for a duel with Ophelia’s brother, Laertes. He
plans to poison the sword Laertes will use against Hamlet as well
as drop the same poison, in the form of a pearl, into a cup of wine
which he’ll give Hamlet.”

“
Poor Hamlet, he’s a goner
either way.” Brice chuckled and then his face straightened. “Wait,
did you say there was a pearl in the wine?”

“
That’s right. It was
covered in poison. Hamlet’s mother drinks the wine by mistake. She
dies. Hamlet is cut with the sword, he and Laertes accidentally
exchange swords in the fight and Laertes is also cut with the
poisoned sword. He confesses to Hamlet because they’re both going
to die anyway and asks for forgiveness. He also tells Hamlet that
Claudius put him up to the whole business and Hamlet takes his last
few moments to run his uncle through with the poisoned sword and
then forces him to drink the poisoned wine.”

“
Jeez, you’d think
Shakespeare would get tired of killing people off. Does anybody
survive?”

“
Only a few minor characters
and Hamlet’s friend, Horatio.”

“
Bummer,” he said with a
lift of the eyebrows.

“
Shakespeare wrote three
kinds of plays—comedies, histories,…”

“
And tragedies,” he finished
for her. “That much I recall. Are you saying that our Mr. Danning
is looking like Claudius and that the killer fancies himself as our
tragic hero, Hamlet?”

“
Well, the metaphor holds
for the most part. You’ve got Danning, who married his brother’s
widow,” she held up one finger. “And you’ve got a stabbing,
right?”

“
Right.”

“
And if my dream was
correct, you’ll find out that it was done with some kind of sword.
And there was wine involved. I know that much from the news. How
about poison?”

“
Too early to tell. We’re
still waiting on the tox report.” He smiled softly to lessen the
impact of what he had to say next. “And Glynnis, even if it comes
back positive, I can’t release any information to you that they
won’t give to the press.”

She nodded. She had suspected as much
but had hoped otherwise. “Will you let me know what you
can?”

“
Of course.”

She stretched in her chair and checked
out the mantle clock above the fire place, the one her father had
built for her. “Oh wow, I didn’t know it was this late! Don’t you
have a wife or a parakeet or something to go home to?”

“
Is that your way of kicking
me out?”

No, it’s my way of finding
out if you’re attached.
That thought
surprised even Glynnis. “No, I just…”

“
It’s okay, I really do have
to go to work tomorrow.” He pushed Carl out of his lap. “Sorry
bud.” Then he turned back to Glynnis. “Thanks for the story.” He
walked to the door.

“
Thanks for the
pizza.”

“
Sure thing. Next time you
buy!” He opened the door and stepped through. “And Glynnis, don’t
open this door to anybody without checking to see who it is
first.”

“
Yes sir!” She saluted with
three fingers.

“
I’ll call you.”

She closed the door behind him and
wondered whether that call would be business or
pleasure.

Chapter 7

They hadn’t taken it well.

Kenny and Gabrielle had invited both
sets of parents out to dinner on Monday evening to break the news.
It was hard finding neutral ground because their parents were so
different but they had finally settled on an upscale diner near the
mall that had a very mixed clientele. Of course, both sets of
parents knew something was up. After all, they’d both disappeared
for days before getting the two families together. Kenny told them
about the marriage and their plans to move to Columbia where Gabby
would finish up at USC and Kenny would begin there at the law
school. The news had been received first with total silence, then
with outrage. Kenny’s folks accused Gabrielle of trapping Kenny
into marriage with pregnancy. She’d told them through tears that
she wasn’t pregnant. Her parents were looking into annulment. She
and Kenny had left the restaurant in a huff, him furious, her
crying. It hadn’t been a good night.

“
Gabby, are you coming to
bed?” Kenny’s voice called from the other room.

“
I’m on the way, just
finishing up.” It helped her to write things down. She had her own
blog and it made her feel better when she could express her anger,
her hurt, through words. Only her very best friends and Kenny knew
she did it, but it was there for anyone who bothered to look. You
could be so anonymous on the internet.

*****

Addison touched the phone to the cradle
and looked at his partner. “Brice, my boy, you are not gonna
believe this one. That was Julie Meyers from police services. We
got the tox screen back.”

“
No, I don’t believe it.
They never work that fast.” Brice lifted one side of his mouth.
“Okay, let me guess. There was poison in the wine, on the pearl,
and in the wound, therefore on the murder weapon.”

Addison stared at him for a few seconds
before laughing out loud. “Sometimes you are just scary, Gearhart.
But it wasn’t exactly poison, it was a drug used in regular
hospitals and animal hospitals called Ketamin. It makes the victim
sleepy and disoriented but can be fatal if enough is used. So it
might as well have been poison.”

Brice made a mental note to track sales
of Ketamin, but he wasn’t hopeful since it was a commonly used
drug. “Was enough used?” he asked.

“
Yeah, but the stab wound
killed him first. Does this go along with your Hamlet theory that
you got from the psychic chic?”

“
Her name is Glynnis, and
yes, it’s exactly like her Hamlet theory. Just like the melancholy
Dane, our killer made the guy drink poison and ran him through with
a poisoned blade…and the pearl was in the wine glass, just like
Shakespeare wrote it.”

“
You think our killer has a
thing for Shakespeare?”

“
Can you think of any other
reason you’d want to poison somebody two different ways
and
stab him? Oh, and
let’s not forget the fact that Gloria Danning was married to Claude
Danning’s brother until he died. Sounds like Shakespeare to
me.”

“
This still doesn’t explain
who did it. I don’t suppose Gloria Danning had a son who’d see
himself as Hamlet.”

“
No,” Brice said. “Too young
and there’s no way he could have thrust that sword through
step-daddy’s innards, not enough upper body strength. Plus, he was
with his mom at the movies. Danning also has a son who’s older, but
he lives with Danning’s ex-wife out on the west coast. I’ll start
checking backgrounds again for anyone who’s connected.”

“
Oh, and Brice,” Addison
called. “You might want to check out Dorsey Timmons again. The
prints they found on the door knob were his.”

“
Were there any of his
inside the house?”

“
No.”

“
He’s already told us he
tried the door. His prints on the doorknob don’t prove a
thing.”

“
Let’s check his background
anyway and go back to our list. Somebody on that list is a
Shakespeare lover.”

Act II

O happy dagger!

This is thy sheath; there
rust, and let me die.

~~Romeo and Juliet, Act V,
scene III~~

William
Shakespeare

Chapter 8

Patience always paid off. He had been
diligent in his search. Yes, it had taken time, more time than he’d
wanted, but here it was, the solution. His muse had not failed him,
but had provided him with the perfect prey. Time to put away the
computer and dig out the textbooks. Yes, planning was necessary and
he must be meticulous in his preparations.

The phone rang, shrill and loud. He
almost didn’t answer but it wouldn’t do to call attention to his
behavior right now. “Hello?..Well can’t you just get someone else?
Alright then, I’ll be there. Just hold it together for me for
another half-hour.” He hung up. Incompetent idiots couldn’t do a
thing without someone there to wipe their noses. He made a few
notations and slipped the paper into a plastic container, then into
the refrigerator. Wouldn’t do for anyone to see these notes, not at
all.