Murder by Candlelight (41 page)

"How so?"

"About not understanding him?"

"Right." That wasn't exactly what Z had
meant, but it would do.

"Not too long after I'd
been trailing him to prove to you I could do P.I. work, I ran into
him in the Social Science building. Now, seeing Ashlock there --
where the
teaching
process of the college takes place -- was a rarity in itself.
Deans don't have much to do with teaching. They stay in the
Administration building for the most part. Associate with their own
kind. But here he was in Social Science. Outside of my office,
even. Almost as if he was lurking there, waiting for me to come out
of my lair." Calder shook his head. Still amazed. "And he said the
strangest thing to me. He said something about his birthday party.
Or, maybe, about me planning his birthday party." Calder shook his
head again. "I knew the reference. It had to be to the question I'd
asked him, some days before, about a birthday party that was being
planned for some administrator. I'd made that up, of course. Faking
up something about a party was just my way of trying to learn the
dean's birthday. But why Dean Ashlock would bring up that part of
our former conversation is beyond me. It happened so fast, and I
was so shocked to see the dean outside my office, that I can't
recall just what he
did
say. But it was definitely something about the
party I'd thrown for him.

"I don't know what I said in reply. Probably
nothing.

"Anyway, he walked with
me, all the way to my classroom, saying how pleased he was with my
performance as a teacher, how I deserved a promotion, and how he,
personally, was going to see that I got it. The whole thing was so
bizarre I almost think
I
dreamed it." Calder looked over at Z -- Calder's
eyes the clear blue of gas-fed flames. "Except that this turned out
to be the way things went. Just like that, I got the promotion.
Moved up in academic rank. Got a raise."

"Great."

"It's like what religious people say to
explain events that don't make sense. 'The Lord moves in mysterious
ways, His wonders to perform.'"

Quite right, Z thought, the same saying one
of his Mom's favorites, as well. "The Lord moves in mysterious ways
His wonders to perform." Sometimes, with a little help from His
friends.

So much for Z's meeting with Calder.

Leaving only Z's nightmares as unfinished
business.

Exiting the "Corral," waving to Calder who
got into a new, black Honda Civic, the sporty-looking car
emphasizing the change in financial status that Dean -- "the party
animal" -- Ashlock had provided the likable professor, Z walked to
his aging Cavalier.

Opening the tinny door, squeezing into the
driver's seat, Z felt the need to roll up the windows for the first
time since late last spring. Since he and the prof had been inside,
the wind had come up, blowing from the north. The air smelled of
dust and oil (oil, from the newly applied, black tar surface of the
Golden Corral lot.) Of dust and oil ... and winter clouds.

Leaving the lot, angling
through the store-cluttered, suburban side of Western Liberty,
making the left sweep that put him on the highway, Z though over
Calder's advice. Although uncertain how it would help to make a
detailed list of Z's activities around the time the dark dreams
pounced on him, he decided he had nothing to lose by doing what Dr.
Calder had recommended.
If
he could stay awake long enough to get home in
one piece.

Now past the edge-of-town
traffic lights, able to get up to speed on the new, string-straight
Liberty-Gladstone four-lane, Z began to rethink -- for the
umpteenth time -- the unfortunate death of Howard Kunkle, Z
finding, to his surprise, that he was no longer all
that
clear that the
little man's passing was the
cause
of Z's nightmares. Certainly, Kunkle's death had
something to do with Z's dreams. On the other hand, since Z had
not
meant
to kill
Kunkle, only to threaten him, what was there to get all torn up
about?

As for Z's method of persuasion -- dripping
wax on Kunkle's head -- Z had often used fire to intimidate the bad
guys.

It could even be said that
Z had been responsible, in an indirect way, for the
demise
of several
baddies. There was that recent incident, for instance, of Z
convincing the thug, Cristoforo, that Cristoforo was on Minghetti's
hit list, the punk then killing Minghetti. Viewed one way, Z was
the cause of the mob boss's death, a happenstance that hadn't
disturbed Z's sleep at all.

All of which had Z doubting that the death
of a bottom-of-the-barrel punk like Kunkle was what was producing
those ghastly dreams.

Could it even be that it
wasn't the
fact
of Kunkle's departure from this veil of tears, but the
mystery
surrounding the
death that was causing the nightmares? A mystery, because Z had
never believed dripping candle wax had caused Kunkle's
demise.

The more Z thought about
it, the more he believed it likely that his nightmares sprang as
much from Z's uneasiness about
how
Kunkle died, as
that
he died, unresolved problems
keeping Z awake in the past. Perhaps, once again, it was the
lingering puzzle of Kunkle's passing that was causing Z to
dream.

Off 152 to curve past the rustic Maple Woods
"forest," more awake than he thought he would be, Z took his rat
run through Gladstone, going directly to his office. Where he put
in a restless afternoon, pretending to read.

No calls.

No business, new or otherwise.

Z hadn't heard from Harry Grimes for some
time. But didn't feel like putting in a call to Harry before Z had
his own life in order. Better to tie up loose ends, his Mom used to
say, before breaking out new yarn.

It wasn't until later that
night at home, Z's nerves now so taut he was
beyond
sleep, that he had the
opportunity to put Calder's suggestion about list-making into
practice.

After splashing kerosene in the fireplace to
help ignite a couple of unusually green logs, Z got a piece of
notebook paper out of the kitchen drawer where he kept the writing
supplies. Also fingered out an advertising-quality ball-point
pen.

Sitting down at the old kitchen-dining room
table, inhaling the perfume of smoking wood and listening to the
pop and spit of damp oak to settle himself, Z clicked down the
point of his pen to write the single word "Picnic" at the top
center of the page; remembering that this was to be a list, wrote
the number 1 to the left of the word.

It was at the reunion picnic that Bud Izard
had asked for Z's help. Kunkle was threatening Bud, Bud said,
because Kunkle thought Bud had stolen Kunkle's girl -- a
high-priced hooker.

1. Picnic

2. Bud asks for help

3. Kunkle thinks Bud stole Kunkle's
girl.

4. The girl was a racehorse

Reduced to black and
white, even the
early
events of this "caper" made no sense. Everything had
seemed
OK with Bud's
account of the problem -- until Z had gotten a look at Kunkle's
disaster of a house, the shabby home banishing even the
idea
that Kunkle could
afford a high-dollar call girl. To say nothing of Kunkle thinking
he had dibs on such a woman, enough of a claim to warn Bud Izard
away from her.

There was just no way that story would hold
up.

But ... what sort of lie was it? A lie
Kunkle told to Bud? Or one Bud told to Z?

For the moment in the dark about how this
early falsehood about Kunkle and the girl had changed the
situation, Z jotted down "phony story" after the third entry.

Back to the list.

Z had gone to Kunkle's crappy place the next
night, zapped Kunkle, tied him up, and searched the house. Had
found the secret drawer in the old desk. Cards. A notebook.

Closing his eyes, Z tried to remember what
was in the notebook.

Names.

Phone numbers.

Most of the listings and numbers were of
stores. Pizza places.

Though there were two private names in the
book, the only entry Z could recall was Bud Izard. And Bud's phone
number.

Z added number 5 to the list, writing:
sapped Kunkle. Wrote 6: Searched drawer. After number 7, he put:
Found cards and notebook. No. 8: Bud's name and number in the
book.

These new tabulations made some kind of
sense -- and yet, they didn't.

Kunkle was harassing Bud.
But was that a good reason for Bud's name to be in Kunkle's book?
Bud's name, plus Bud's
phone
number. Reflecting, Z remembered that Bud said
Kunkle had
come
to the tavern to give Bud the black queen of spades -- the
"death" card. The "non-barking dog" in
this
situation was that Bud had not
said a word about Kunkle making threatening phone calls.

So ... what was Bud's name and number doing
in Kunkle's little black book?

To be thought about later.

Nine: Queen of spades missing from an old
card deck in the drawer.

The missing queen tied Kunkle to Bud's story
about Kunkle threatening Bud. The "death" queen came from Kunkle's
card pack, the rest of the pack in Kunkle's secret drawer.

So far, the list read:

1. Picnic.

2. Bud asks for help.

3. Kunkle thinks Bud stole Kunkle's girl.
Phony story.

4. The girl was a racehorse.

5. Zap Kunkle.

6. Searched drawer.

7. Found cards and notebook.

8. Bud's name and number in the book.

9. Queen of spades missing from an old card
deck in the drawer.

Z had another thought. Bud said Kunkle had
taken a shot at Bud. But Z had found no gun in Kunkle's home. Or in
Kunkle's car. A surprise. Making number 10: No gun.

Next, came the candle-above-his-head routine
for Kunkle. Only five candles. No. 11: Five candles.

Number 12 was: Telling Bud he was safe. That
Kunkle wouldn't bother Bud anymore. Number 13 was: Z learning that
the candle wax had suffocated Kunkle. After which, the nightmares
began.

Z had a thought that stumped him. Should he
add to the list events that happened at the same time, even though
unrelated to the Kunkle affair? With dreams, anything was possible,
he supposed. Anyway, 13 was an unlucky number ......

So for good measure, Z listed under 14: The
murder of his high school classmate. What was his name? Z tried to
think. Attempted to recall the name by picturing the man, getting
only a fuzzy picture of a boy in high school. Lee ... something or
other. ... Lee ... Dotson. It was the death of Dotson that had
given Scherer the opportunity to hassle Z, Scherer pretending there
was a connection between Z and the death of Z's old schoolmate.
Ridiculous, of course. Just Scherer being a bully. Paying Z back
for Z dumping on Scherer in the radio interview. Still, being
pulled in by Scherer may have had something to do with the dreams
continuing.

Lee Dotson.

Though Z didn't know why, the name meant
something; not as a school chum; but in some other context. Was it
that Z had seen the Dotson name in print? ... In the newspaper?

Z didn't think so. Anyway, now that he was
turning Dotson's name over in his mind, Z didn't think he had seen
the name in print so much as in ... writing. Cursive writing. But
... where?

Z had a head for numbers.
He never had to hear a phone number twice to remember it
forever.
If
there
was some reason he wanted to recall it, that is. He was good with
faces, too. Not as good as with numbers, but good enough. As for
names ....

Like lightning rips the
darkest night, Z knew! He certainly
had
seen Lee Dotson's name. Seen it
recently. And in cursive. Lee Dotson was one of the entries in
Howard Kunkle's little book! Along with the names of stores.
Take-out food restaurants. Besides business names and numbers,
there were two other entries: Bud Izard and Lee Dotson.

What this meant, if anything, was that the
first order of business was to correct the list, Z writing, "Also
Lee Dotson" after "Bud's name and number in the book." Behind
number 8.

Though Z took some time to ponder this new
remembrance, he couldn't come up with anything, except the
coincidence of the murdered man making Kunkle's list.

List of ... what? Numbers the little man
called frequently? That was the usual reason for jotting down a
list of names and phone numbers. And, yet, Bud Izard had made no
mention of Kunkle calling him to complain about Bud's alleged
connection with Kunkle's call girl.

Using the list as a guide, Z started over on
a fresh piece of paper.

1. Picnic.

2. Bud asks for help.

3. Kunkle thinks Bud stole Kunkle's girl.
Phony story.

4. The girl was a racehorse.

5. Zap Kunkle.

6. Search secret drawer in desk.

7. Found cards, notebook.

8. Bud's name and number in notebook. Also
Lee Dotson.

9. Queen of spades missing from old card
pack.

10. No gun.

11. Five candles.

12. Telling Bud he's safe.

13. Learning the wax had killed Kunkle.

14. Dotson Murdered.

Reviewing the inventory, there was a lot
wrong with it. Bud's story about Kunkle, for one thing. The fact
that Lee Dotson's name was in Kunkle's book, for another. (Z was
suspicious of coincidences. Everyone in his profession was.) Also
the fact that Kunkle had no gun. And last, but certainly not least,
that the wax from five candles had suffocated Kunkle.