Never Thwart a Thespian: Volume 8 (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series) (22 page)

Leigh smiled. She didn’t trust Gerardo, but she couldn’t help liking him, either. As Allison and the Pack had also perceived, his intelligence and sense of humor were evident even without speech.

“I won’t tell Chaz,” she bargained, “if you’ll dish on him and Ned.”

He smirked. “What do you want to know?”

“Are they really what they appear to be?”

His eyebrows tented. “You mean a lazy idiot and a hardworking oddball?”

Leigh nodded.

“As far as I know. But for obvious reasons, they don’t confide in me.”

She sighed. “Well, keep an eye out, will you? For anything… even more strange than usual?”

He grinned at her shamelessly. “That’s why I get the big bucks.”

Leigh stepped away from him and had just started down the sidewalk when he called to her with a stage whisper. “Hey! What other bushes am I not supposed to be hacking, here? What kind did you say this was?”

Leigh smirked and gave a shrug. “Damned if I know. Looks like a weed to me.”

***

Leigh knew the risks when she decided to walk back around the front side of the building. Subconsciously or otherwise, she had wanted it to happen.

“Yoo-hoo! Miss Leigh! Come on over!”

Don’t mind if I do.

Leigh crossed the traffic and joined Merle and Earl on their front porch, which had been divested of its dining room chairs but still offered two extra lawn chairs and a bean bag. She sat down in one of the original deck chairs next to Earl, who beamed at her. “Had a detective come over here yesterday,” he said proudly.

“Did you?” Leigh encouraged.

“Yes, ma’am,” Merle agreed, sitting on Leigh’s opposite side. “Fine young fellow. Works for the county police. In
homicide,
you know.”

“I met him, too,” Leigh admitted. “What did he come over here for?”

“His name was Toth,” Earl informed.

“It was Struth,” Merle corrected.

“It was
what?”
Earl demanded.

“Smith! His name was Smith!” Merle snapped, rolling her eyes. She hid her mouth behind her hand and spoke to Leigh in a whisper as loud as her regular voice. “He can’t hear worth a damn, you know.”

“Can too!” Earl protested.

“What did the detective ask you about?” Leigh inquired, intervening.

“Oh, the same thing everybody asks us about,” Merle answered. “What we see happening from over here. Who goes in and out of the building, and when.”

“His name was Toth.”

“He also asked us about what everybody else was saying way back when,” Merle continued. “You know, what the people around here thought when Marconi went missing. He wanted to know which of the neighbors had lived here since then besides us.”

“David Toth.”

“Of course, there’s not all that many long-timers around here anymore. It’s all rentals on this side, and the houses across the way have a lot of younger families. They come and go pretty quick, you know. But I gave him a few names of people who’ve been here even longer than we have.”

“Was it David or Raymond?”

“Not that many of them can see what goes on in the building, though,” Merle informed. “We’ve got the only view of the front, besides those next door. We can’t see the parking lot or around back, but nobody living over there can either, really, because of that hedge being so overgrown. Easy as pie to slip in and out one of those doors without being seen, that’s what I told Mr. Struth.”

“I think it was Raymond,” Earl concluded.

Leigh was beginning to get dizzy from whipping her head around.

“He was plenty interested in everything we’ve seen happen since Mr. Marconi came around,” Merle boasted. “I told him about those awful haunted houses. Did you know the borough turned on the power and water for a month every year just to suit those crazy hoodlums? No mystery how all that happened — one of them was the son of a councilman, you know. Our tax dollars going for that nonsense! Come November, they’d shut everything off again. But Earl and I, we saw lights over there all year round. Flashlights I imagine, but lights.”

Leigh’s pulse quickened. She had heard the claim before, but now it seemed more than idle fancy. If someone, obviously not Marconi himself, had regularly been visiting the building at night, what was their purpose? They had done no obvious damage. They could have stolen things they didn’t steal. No single item in the basement had any great value in terms of pawning, but a decent amount of it taken together would have
some
value. Why break into an abandoned building with a flashlight just to sit in the dark and the cold?

A flash of inspiration struck. Were they
looking
for something?

“Did Detective Stroth tell you why he wanted to know?” she asked anxiously.

“Stroth!” Earl shouted triumphantly, raising a pointed finger in the air. “I told you it was Stroth!”

“He didn’t say much,” Merle answered. “He just asked questions. That’s how they do, you know.”

“Was it Raymond Stroth?” Earl questioned.

“I expect he’ll be calling us back any time now, though, and I might just ask him then,” Merle mused. “What all he thinks is up. We saw them lights again last night, you know. That’s what I plan to tell him. But he didn’t answer his phone, so I just left my number.”

“It was David,” Earl proclaimed. “David Stroth.”

“It’s Daniel,” Leigh supplied, then swiveled in her seat to fully face Merle. “Wait, when last night? You know they had the dress rehearsal — I’m sure it went pretty late.”

Merle shook her head. “Oh no, I mean after that. It was all quiet over there by midnight, but then I got up again around three because Earl was snoring—”

“
You
were snoring!”

“And I saw a little light bobbing over there again, down low like, in the basement. We can see those windows all up the side, you know.”

“I saw them too,” Earl insisted. “Her snoring had me up at five. The detective told us to keep an eye out, so I did.”

Leigh’s mouth seemed to have gone dry. She swallowed painfully. “You’re saying you saw lights in the building just last night,
after the actors had all left?”

And since Gordon Applegate had all the locks changed?

“That’s what we’re saying,” Merle confirmed.

Earl nodded his head along with her.

Leigh felt the color drain from her face. “But you couldn’t have,” she protested. “There’s… no way to get in the building. Not anymore.”

Merle chuckled. “Oh, there’s always a way. When somebody puts their mind to it.”

“Damn hippies,” Earl added.

Leigh rose. “I’m sorry, but I need to go. I need to tell my Aunt Bess about this.”

“Oh, we already did,” Merle offered pleasantly. “She popped over again earlier this morning, all excited to tell us that the inspection came through and that it was official — tonight’s the night!”

“I’m wearing a tie,” Earl said with a smile.

“I may have to break out the panty hose myself,” Merle added. “Much as I hate the damn things.”

“Don’t bother,” Leigh said absently. “I’ll be there tonight, and I haven’t worn them since the nineties.”

“Women used to wear garters, you know,” Earl informed.

“I really do have to go,” Leigh said, moving toward the steps. “But thanks for catching me up on everything.”

“You think Lori Ann ever wore garters?” Earl asked.

“Not the kind you mean,” Merle answered.

“Bye! See you tonight!” Leigh said quickly, hastening down the steps and across the street. Assuming Bess was in the sanctuary, she headed for the front door and banged on it. There was no response. With frustration, she turned around to try the door in the parking lot. But she had only moved a few steps before she heard the door creaking open behind her.

“Hey, kiddo,” Bess said curiously. “I thought you left already.”

Leigh swung around again and moved through the open door and into the vestibule. “I leave several times daily,” she answered, planting her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me that Merle and Earl saw lights over here last night? Did you tell Detective Stroth that when he was here?”

A look of vague discomfort flitted across Bess’s face, but she dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “Oh, bosh. Why would I bother the detective with that nonsense? Or you either, for that matter? Merle and Earl are lovely people, but their imaginations are a little too vivid. I’m sure they were just confusing the times — the rehearsal went quite late, you know.”

Bess walked past Leigh and on into the sanctuary.

Leigh followed. “They seemed quite specific about the times, and they both saw the same thing,” she countered. “You can’t just dismiss this, Aunt Bess.”

“Can’t I?”

“No,” Leigh insisted. “You told me that you and Gordon have the only keys. Are you sure he couldn’t have loaned his out to someone without telling you? Or did you loan one out? To Camille, maybe?”

“Heavens, no,” Bess retorted. “She’d be the last person I’d allow in this building unsupervised. No one has had access to my key. As for Gordon,” she looked suddenly contemplative. “Well, it’s possible. I really don’t know
what
that man is up to.”

Leigh gave a summary of her conversation with Gerardo, minus his potentially inflammatory comments about his employer. The omission gave Leigh no qualms, as her aunt was obviously well aware of the state of Gordon’s libido.

“Yes, yes,” Bess replied rather impatiently. “Gerardo is a spy for Gordon and he’s reporting back everything I’m doing, yada yada yada. That’s all yesterday’s news. The man is conniving and manipulative, yes, but that’s just Gordon. It’s part of his charm, if you consider such things charming. But if you’re insinuating that he had anything to do with the assault on Sonia, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I
know
Gordon. He may be a high-handed little tyrant, but underneath all that bluster, he’s a lamb in wolf’s clothing. And you’ll just have to trust me on that one.

“Now, what was I doing?” Bess asked herself. “Oh, right. The water.” She began walking toward the stairs to the basement.

Leigh followed. “So you’re not just the teeniest bit curious why Gordon — or Gerardo — might be wandering around this building with a flashlight in the wee hours of the morning?”

“Of course I am,” Bess replied as she hurried down the stairs. “But can we theorize about it later? I have a thousand things to do before the show, and I just found out there’s no hot water in the ladies’ room, never mind that it was perfectly fine yesterday! And God forbid, if it’s anything Lydie can’t handle, I’ll have to call—”

She broke off as she opened the door into the basement. She held it open for Leigh, then shut it behind them.

“Do you smell that?” she asked, sniffing.

Leigh sniffed, too. “Gas.”

Bess’s lips pursed with annoyance. “Well, I suppose that’s good news,” she said without enthusiasm. “Probably just means the pilot light on the hot water heater went out, right?”

Leigh nodded. The odor, although distinct, was still faint. “Where
is
the hot water heater?”

“The boiler room,” Bess answered, moving toward a door along the front wall of the basement. “Well now, how did this get here?” she said irritably, running the toe of her shoe through a streak of dust on the floor. “You could have licked these tiles after Francie finished with them yesterday. Even the inspector was impressed…”

Bess’s voice trailed off as she opened the door and disappeared inside the gloomy looking space. Leigh hung back, further examining the dirty floor. The streak of dust was an odd whitish color, and it started at the boiler room door and angled away toward the stairs to the annex. Smaller patches of dust lay ahead along the same trajectory. She frowned.

She walked to the open door and peered into the boiler room. It was every bit as charming as she had imagined, complete with dimness, a low ceiling, variously sized pipes and ducts running everywhere, and multiple outdated-looking metal appliances. The one surprise was that despite its inherent dinginess, the space was amazingly free of dust and cobwebs. Which could only mean that it had recently been visited by one Frances Koslow.

Bess emerged from the back side of a particularly mysterious looking appliance with a sigh of exasperation. “Well, the pilot’s out all right,” she informed. “The tank’s cold. But darned if I can figure out how to light it. Doesn’t look like any hot water heater I’ve ever seen.”

Bess moved toward the door, but almost tripped over something on the floor. “What the—” She leaned down to take a closer look. “Oh for heaven’s sake, when did this happen? Francie cleaned in here! It looked perfectly fine for the inspector!”

She made her way back to the doorway and let out a gruff exhale. “I’ll go fetch Ned. I bet he’s dealt with this dinosaur before. I’ll have him clean up the mess, too. Honestly, it’s like a truck ran into the outside of the building or something! Be right back, kiddo. Of all the…”

Still muttering to herself, Bess crossed the basement and headed towards the annex and the exit to the parking lot.

Leigh remained in the doorway of the boiler room. Her body tensed. Someone had been snooping around down here last night, and whatever they had been doing, they had managed to leave a trail of dust across the floor as a result of it. What was it that Bess had nearly tripped over?

She pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight app. The one bulb in the room’s ceiling was beyond pathetic, and the ductwork blocked most of its light from shining where Bess had stumbled. As Leigh moved forward, she could see a rectangular opening in the original brick wall facing Perry Highway. Black soot stained the bricks all around the hole, which looked at first glance like a fireplace, but which was several feet off the floor. Leigh noticed the wooden frame bordering it and realized that it must be an old coal chute. With the original sanctuary being built in the early 1900s, the outside wall would have had an opening to the street with a wooden or metal hatch, through which the coal truck would have made its delivery. Inside, the chute would open to a coal bin.

Leigh looked at the area more closely. All the surrounding bricks were still black with coal ash, but the bin itself was long gone. The only thing beneath the opening now was a pile of broken bricks and chunks of mortar. It was this debris that Bess had tripped over. A mess that couldn’t possibly have been present when Frances cleaned yesterday.