Robinson looked tired. “What do you know about this Juan Gonzales cat?”
“He’s different and he did some business outside of the S.E.E. members with Iwao.” She didn’t want to tell him that it was Simon who’d initially provided her with this information. “He and Iwao did some king-fu-type movie together that Juan helped produce and distribute in the States and Mexico. But I don’t think the deal benefited Juan much. Actually this evening at the wine tasting, he made no bones to me about his feelings toward Iwao, and they were not exactly positive. Then he clammed up. Even got angry at me when I tried to pry.” She told him about getting the call from Derek and how it had interrupted her from further pursuing a discussion with Juan, but that she noticed him talking to Ruben Pearlman and they looked to be tight.
He nodded. “Good. That’s confirmation of what I’ve learned. There is a connection between the three of them. After you told me what Pearlman told you on the hike about his being involved in media and music production, I checked him out. I made some calls. Looks likeYamimoto, Pearlman, and Gonzales did that movie venture that bombed together, and Yamimoto took more money from these guys than he needed. Looks to me like Yamimoto was stealing money from them. I don’t have the full scoop yet, but I’m bringing them both in for a little talk. Any idea if either one of them went missing while this tasting event went down?”
“No. Is that when you think she was killed?” Again she couldn’t help thinking about Simon and Marco. Had they seen something and had the killer taken them out, too? That was too horrible even to consider. Damn, where were they?
“I think she was killed earlier this afternoon.”
“That would be far more feasible. It could have happened when we were setting up the tasting.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Here I was on the premises and this went down, right after I interviewed her. Or tried to.” Detective Robinson looked understandably distraught and angry.
“Did she give you anything that you could go on or even understand?”
“Nothing. She gave you more by showing you those photos of Yamimoto, his nephew, and Sierra Sansi. I tried to ask her about that and she acted like a deer caught in the headlights.”
“That could also be an angle to explore—Sierra and the nephew. Something isn’t kosher there.”
He nodded. “Yeah. You think you can talk to her?”
“I could try. I’ve hardly seen her at all since she found Iwao. Didn’t you interview her?”
“I did,” Robinson replied. “She was pretty shaky last night and I haven’t had a chance to talk to her today. It might be easier for her to talk to you than me.” He picked up the long pizza handle next to the oven and twirled one end of it. “Whoever did this wanted to be sure Mizuki wouldn’t be able to tell us anything else. This killer is cunning. He’s laughing at us right now, and this is the second time with the cork in the mouth. That’s some type of signature or symbol. My guess is it represents something you’ve already mentioned—put a cork in it.”
“He? You think the killer is a man?” Nikki asked.
“I do. Take Yamimoto first. The guy was taken out by slicing his throat. He had to have been jumped from behind and by someone strong. The cut is clean. I’ve talked with the medical examiner and she agrees with me. Then you have this killing here with the mistress. Granted, she was a petite thing, but the killer stabbed her with a corkscrew. Here’s the thing with that, again—you need strength and either he got lucky and hit the heart muscle or he knew exactly how to hit it. The cork is the icing on the cake for him to taunt us with.”
“It makes sense. So, you’re narrowing in on Gonzales and Pearlman?”
“I’m checking their background right now, and I’ll be questioning them personally again. I think they could even be in cahoots.”
“What about Kurt Kensington? Maybe he’s deranged enough that he thinks he could get away with it.” Nikki crossed her arms.
“You’re right. Everything I have so far on someone like him would be only circumstantial evidence. Maybe he’s a pro of some sort and knows it’s hard to build a case based on circumstances. This is a tough one, and now we have some serious safety issues. I need to talk with Alan Sansi. I can’t make him shut down his workshop for the week, but I’ll suggest it again. The problem is that I need these folks to stay around here. I can’t have them leaving Napa and going back home. Not until I’ve thoroughly interviewed them and checked them out.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Let me see what I can do about having an officer here at the winery. If there is a police presence, it should deter this guy from killing again. But something tells me he won’t. He’s done his job. He killed Yamimoto for one reason, which I will figure out, and he killed the mistress to make sure that if she knew anything at all, she couldn’t tell anyone.”
Nikki wondered. Robinson’s reasoning made sense. She hoped he was right that whoever had committed these murders was finished.
But Robinson had been wrong before.
Twenty
NIKKI knew that the members were in their rooms. Some had already been interviewed. She had to finesse those member applications that Hayden told her about on the hike out of Hayden’s hands and now was the time to do it.
She knocked on Hayden’s door. Rich answered. “Hi, Nikki.” He shook his head. “We can’t believe this. Hayden and I are shocked.”
“Have the police already spoken with you?” she asked, figuring they had because she doubted Robinson would allow anyone who was a part of the S.E.E. group to spend any time with another member or facilitator until after they’d been questioned.
“Yes. It’s really unbelievable. First Mr. Yamimoto and now his . . . ” Rich fumbled for the appropriate term. “His other half.”
That was a delicate way of putting it.
“Would you like to come in?” he asked. “We were having a glass of wine, trying to digest this.”
“Sure. Thanks. That would be nice.”
Nikki entered the king suite. Like all the rooms at the hotel, this one was nothing short of pure elegance. It was a two-bedroom suite and had a fireplace, as all of them did. The room had been painted a soft peach hue, and candles were lit on the end tables. Maybe she’d interrupted something. Hayden was curled up n one of the chairs, wineglass in hand.
She turned as Nikki came in and looked about as tired as Nikki felt. “Hi, Nikki. Rich and I were sitting here talking about what happened with Mizuki and how horrid all this is. Even my father is completely shaken and nothing shakes him up.” Hayden took a sip of the red wine. She’d changed clothes since the wine-tasting event, where she’d had on an argyle-type vest over a white button-down and a nice pair of pressed jeans. Now she wore a pair of gray pajama bottoms and a T-shirt that read SANSI KNOWS THE WAY.
Rich still had on his khakis and button-down. The two of them defined yuppiedom from the nineties.
“Here, Nikki.” Rich handed her a glass of wine and sat down on the edge of the fireplace. “Have a seat.” He pointed to the empty chair next to Hayden.
Nikki thanked him and sat down.
“What do you make of all this?” he asked.
“I don’t know. My guess is that the police are looking heavily into the members here. It was one thing to have Iwao murdered last night on the train with the belief that it was someone outside the group being a killer . . . but now with this second killing, I’m sure the focus will turn to the members and our staff.”
“No,” Hayden said. “No one in this group would do such a thing. I can’t believe that.”
“You don’t know, Hayden. Anything is possible. I think the best thing we can do is allow the police to conduct their investigation.”
Nikki really didn’t want to bring up the applications in front of Rich, but she didn’t have a choice. It was now or never. She took a sip of the Pinot Noir, which reminded her of strawberries and of all things leather. “I don’t know how to broach this with you, so I guess the best way to do this is be honest.” Of course, Nikki couldn’t even count these two out as suspects. The likelihood seemed low and the applications wouldn’t pertain to them anyway. They certainly hadn’t had to fill one out.
“What are you getting at?” Hayden asked.
She set her glass down on the table. “We are a bit of small town in a large county, and, well, I don’t know if anyone said anything to you, but from time to time, I’ve been known to help the police out with their investigations. I grew up with an aunt who was a detective, and being around her, I kind of developed a knack for it.”
They were nodding their heads. Her story was not entirely true. Yes, she’d helped out the police before, but not always by invitation. At least in this case, Robinson wanted her assistance. Granted, she was only supposed to look and listen since she hadn’t overnight become an official member of the department, but Robinson was bogged down at the moment. There may be nothing to those applications at all, and if that was the situation, then Robinson need not waste his or any of his employees’ time. But if there was something in one of them, then she could alert him and still have saved him and the department time and money.
“I don’t think we’re understanding you here,” Rich said and motioned to Hayden.
“I know I’m not.” Hayden took another sip of wine.
Nikki sighed. “Okay, on the hike, Hayden, you said that you hang on to the applications the members fill out.”
“I do. So?”
“I need to see them.” There it was, out on the table.
“Why?” she asked.
Rich looked from Hayden to Nikki.
“Because I am helping the police, as I mentioned, and they will be asking for them anyway, probably with a subpoena, and I don’t know that you want everyone knowing that the police are looking at the applications. It could save you a lot of drama with the members if you gave them to me now.” She threw in that “subpoena” word figuring the legalese might get their attention.
“I don’t understand what you think you’ll find.” Rich took a sip from his wine.
She gave them the same spiel she had given Simon.
The engaged couple exchanged looks after she finished. Rich shook his head. “I’d hate to see Hayden get in any trouble with her dad for this.”
“That won’t happen. If anything stands out in the applications, I’ll let the police know. If not, then no harm no foul.”
“I suppose,” Hayden said.
“I’ll bring them back tomorrow. I promise. You have them here, don’t you?” Nikki nodded and smiled at her.
“Okay,” Hayden replied reluctantly. “But I need them back tomorrow. Early.”
“I think that would be good,” Rich said.
Hayden got up and went into the bedroom, which Nikki knew had paintings of vineyards on the walls and a white silk duvet cover on the bed.
“You help out the police then?” Rich asked.
“Sort of.” She crossed her fingers that Rich wouldn’t ask Robinson about it. If he knew what she was up to, he’d flip out.
“I sure hope they find this creep soon. I’m a bit afraid to stay here.” He got up and refilled his glass.
“I believe the police are posting a man here for the night, and from what I’ve heard, they believe these killings were targeted. I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about.”
“I suppose. The police asked me all about Yamimoto’s publishing dealings and his wanting to publish Alan’s books in Japan. I explained that we have various foreign subsidies that do our publishing overseas and neither Alan nor myself was interested in going with him in that direction.”
“Did you know Mr. Yamimoto very well?”
“No. This is the first time I ever met him. He’d called me a few times, but I knew Alan’s stance and I agreed. Inspiritus has done a fantastic job for him. My mother really helped him build his image.”
Hayden walked out with a stack of folders and handed them to Nikki. “Please do not tell anyone about this.”
“I won’t.” She stood up. “I appreciate it, and I’ll be by tomorrow.”
Nikki walked out of their room, applications in hand, knowing she had a long night ahead of her.
Twenty-one