Sudden Vacancies (10 page)

Chapter 28

At the coroner’s office, a toxicology report was done on Michael Young. The state of the body made it very difficult to determine the cause of death. His internal organs were charred and the body was so badly burned that the family opted for a closed casket funeral.

The toxicology report found traces of the caffeine and vodka he had recently ingested. Along with it was the cause of his death – cyanide. While it did not kill Michael instantly, cyanide poisoning was a very painful and sometime drawn out way to kill someone. Most people eventually die from it, and Michael had enough in his system that he would have died, even if he had not driven his vehicle off the fifth floor.

While the police department quickly arranged a traditional funeral for one of their own, their focus turned to the case and the —concern that two other people died that night. They had visited the Blue Plate, ordered Red Bull with vodka, and died violently from cyanide poisoning.

Investigators immediately descended upon the hotel restaurant again and confirmed that each individual had ordered Red Bull with vodka, but no food. The poison had come from the drinks.

A thorough toxicology check was made on the vodka supply at the hotel and it came back clean. The investigation then turned to the Red Bull supply. Because the hotel participated in the Columbus green project, a recyclable container was located in the kitchen and all aluminum cans were deposited there when empty. When investigators looked, they found the three empty cans from the day before.

A full check on each can found that all three of them had small holes punctured into the top. This was enough to make it so the can would not leak while it was stored upright as usual. Whoever had added the cyanide into the cans clearly used something like a syringe to poke a hole into each can and injected the cyanide. If someone inspected the can thoroughly they might have noticed the tiny hole, but obviously, Michael hadn’t.

All the Red Bull cans in the restaurant were taken and tested. It turned out that the fourth can in the four-pack also had cyanide in it. None of the other cans had cyanide in them.

No presence of cyanide was found in any other item or surface of the hotel. Whoever had done this had access to the hotel restaurant. Who could have done this? By poisoning all four cans, were they trying to ensure Michael would definitely die? Michael had visited the hotel restaurant enough times towards the end of the day, that it was common knowledge that he always ordered Red Bull and vodka. Whoever had committed this murder wanted to make sure Michael died. Anyone else who died would have been expendable casualties; the key was to get rid of the man who could have been onto something.

“I’m beginning to think that he died at the hands of the same person who killed all those people in the hotel rooms,” Sandra said. “What do you think?”

“Oh yeah,” Andrew said. “Whoever did this probably got to talk with him about the case. Do you think that he’s in this hotel right now?”

“Probably. We’ve got six days to go before the last reservation comes in. I just had to let several people go.” Sandra’s head was reeling.

Chapter 29

Sandra was forced to lay off about a fifth of the staff at the hotel. The hotel had lost so much business, and the last reservation was very near. It had finally become apparent that she had no choice but to get rid of a few people because of the lack of business.

Sandra knew that right now she needed to save money wherever and however possible. Not knowing how long it was going to take to remedy this situation, and given the fact that four more people were killed as a result of the murderer’s actions, she knew that the nuclear option was coming closer and closer than ever.

Would she have to sell the hotel altogether? Would she be able to sell the hotel right now? If she sold it then what would happen to it? Would someone demolish it and build a new place on the piece of land? Would the entire staff lose their jobs? If the new owner kept the hotel, would they change the branding and functionality people had come to expect from the Paradise?

There’s was no way of telling what would happen to it.

Charles Henderson was shocked to learn about Michael’s death. He was such a talented investigator who really knew how to keep the family tradition of working in the police department going. He worked hard to help the police office and wanted to do whatever it took to help everyone out with all their cases.

But why did he have to die so young? Could it have been the person who tried killing him a few years ago…or was it someone who felt that he knew enough and was a threat; someone who could have blown the case wide open and revealed a new clue?

Charles had been in the force for a few years more than Michael had but he was especially interested in helping people. However, he always had a personal philosophy to his work: “You fuck with someone in the department and you’re fucking with me.”

Charles never had the best mouth but he always worked hard to make sure he kept it clean around younger people. That was not normally a problem because he tended to avoid younger kids as he was always bothered by them. He always seemed to take a W.C. Fields approach to children—they might be nice in theory but they are simply annoyances.

Even with this in mind, he still went around to help people when they were in trouble. He was extremely protective of the members of his department and he never wanted anyone to mistreat their partners.

With Michael dead, Charles made it his goal to continue the investigation that he had started. He worked hard to find other people of interest, and he was desperate to take out anyone who wronged others.

The question at this point was to figure out who could have been responsible, but the choices were running low. While he was happy to get rid of the illegal immigrants at the hotel in order to clear out a series of suspects, he was concerned over what was going on.

Then, he began to think about what was happening at the restaurant. It’s clear that someone had targeted Michael at the restaurant. That same person was willing to take some people out at the same time. This person, who was killing everyone, seemed to be very adamant about keeping his or her identity covered and was willing even to take out figures of authority just to keep things from being worse than they had to be.

Carla had finally returned to the Blue Plate the day before the cyanide murders. Sandra had finally convinced her to return, and since she hadn’t gotten any other job offers, she had agreed to return and work her normal shift. The rent had to be paid after all.

Instead, she stayed home the day after the cyanide plot was confirmed. She told Sandra that she was ill with a cold. However, the real reason for this was to avoid the ongoing suspicion that she did something. After all, the first person who was going to be contacted about something that happened in a restaurant is the head chef and especially if that chef is a recovering junkie, right?

She never bothered to share information about how she was looking for a job elsewhere. She just thought that if she kept on looking for a job someplace else that she wouldn’t be in trouble. After all, it’s not like anyone would miss her. She always felt that no matter what she was doing, no one at the Paradise would take her seriously anymore. Going somewhere else to work would certainly do wonders for her and her life.

However, Charles came over to her home anyway to get a look at what was really going on.

“Ms. D’Angelo, please open this door.”

No answer.

“Ms. D’Angelo, this is Charles Henderson of the Columbus Police Department, I am requesting to speak with you. If you don’t respond then I will be forced to open this door under an alternative-”

“WHAT?” Carla yelled. “You wanna arrest me, go ahead. I know what you’re thinking.”

“Madam, that’s not what I want to do,” Charles said. “I am not here to arrest anyone. I do want to talk with you about what was going on with the restaurant yesterday.”

“I don’t even work at the bar. Troy was working the bar yesterday; I was busy in the back of the kitchen. I didn’t even get in touch with any customers yesterday.”

“So you’re saying that you had nothing to do with the death of Michael Young?”

“He died?” Carla couldn’t believe it. Michael Young was just that—young.

“Carla, open the door so I can ask my questions and then I’ll be gone.”

Charles finally gained entrance to the room after a bit of coercion. Carla then started to talk with Charles about her life. “Listen, officer or whatever, I don’t think anyone understands my story and what’s going on with me,” Carla said. “Do you realize what I’ve done with my life?”

Carla went on to explain how she thought she was invincible when younger, how she ended up in jail.

Charles reassured her. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

*****

Charles then went back to the hotel. He talked with Troy Murphy, the bartender who worked at the restaurant bar.

Troy Murphy was not someone who was ever considered to be a suspect because he only worked at the bar on weekends. He was forced to come in to work on a few weekdays in the last week after the previous bartender resigned out of fear of everything that was happening.

Troy was not fully aware of what was going on with Carla or even half the things that were happening at the hotel. After all, this was only a secondary job; he was a freelance writer who was making decent money with his writing. He took this job to ensure he had some regular income, and also as a way of getting a break from writing.

“I served Mr. Young a Red Bull and vodka most days when he was here during my work shift,” he said. “It seemed to be his drink of choice. Apparently, I didn’t know that was him until just now. I thought he was a guy who had a reservation with us and decided to stay around even with what’s going on.”

“I never talked with Carla yesterday but I did talk with Bruce. In fact, he was hanging out near the door to the bar for a bit before the show.”

“Come to think of it, I’ve not seen Carla in here for almost a month. I don’t know what’s going on with her, she’s usually a pretty nice gal, and I’ve never heard anything bad about her.”

That’s when it hit him. Bruce was spending quite a bit of his free time at the hotel. If he’s hanging out there then what’s happening?

Charles then called at the music store.

Chapter 30

Michael’s vehicle was examined along with his body after the wreck. There was a full review of all the things going on in the vehicle, to determine if there was something that could have caused the vehicle to malfunction.

The wreckage was reviewed based on what could have been found. It turned out that there was no real problem with the vehicle. The engine was working fine, no brake lines were cut, and the tires seemed to work just fine as they were.

Therefore, the police department came to the realization that there was nothing wrong with the car. They decided that the accident had been the result of the driver’s reaction to being poisoned.

*****

Tina had worked out that she hadn’t looked into the room that the first murder happened. She felt sure there was some clue she missed out.

There was the empty bath and the cabinet. She remembered she looked for a cupboard.

Cupboard? That was what was wrong! Every bathroom had a cupboard that contained the boiler!

Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Why hadn’t the police seen it? It was very remiss of all of them.

*****

When Charles looked at what was happening at the hotel, he figured that maybe the local music store had a hint. If the sports equipment store came up with nothing then certainly the music store might. After all, Bruce would have been there a few times to get stuff.

Still, he knew there was no way he could ever trust anyone at the hotel. While he felt that Bruce was careful and calm about what was happening, Charles felt that he could still be a suspicious figure in this case.

Meanwhile, his talk with Carla helped him out quite a bit but he still didn’t want to take her name off the table. He knew there was always the potential that the person who did something was the one person that no one expected. It’s not so much an issue of what might happen as it is an issue of how dangerous someone in particular could be.

*****

The Bent Note was a popular place for music performers in the Columbus area. Located about four blocks west of the hotel, it had been in operation since 1946. Established by a man who had returned home from war, he felt that he should help people in the new post-war world to play instruments, just like he did.

The store had gone through a number of different changes over the years. As rock music became popular, so did the Bent Note. As hip hop became noteworthy, the Bent Note started to add turntables. When country music got into a renaissance in the 1980s, he started to stock up on slide guitars and acoustic instruments. Today rock, country, and hip-hop performers alike, have all trusted in the Bent Note for their equipment needs.

However, the place was struggling over the years as the music scene was wearing out. The many music halls around the city hadn’t been getting as many people to their shows as they used to get.

Charles talked with Jake Kim, the owner of the store. He talked about what was going on with the store. “I’ve talked with Bruce a few times,” Jake said. “He’s a real nice guy, he kinda wishes this place was a little nicer but he’s still a good fella.”

“When did you last get in touch with him?”

“Two days ago.”

He then took a look at the security footage at the store; the security camera recorded files of people who came in and out each week and would replace old files every week in order to preserve hard disk data and also because the old information wouldn’t be worth much anymore after a while.

“So, Jake, how’s business been anyway? I know the music scene’s been really tough these days. I mean, no one’s buying albums anymore and everyone’s just making music on their computers.”

“Well, we have been going through some phases here and there. Most of the stuff we’ve sold was just accessories.”

When Jake said that, he felt resigned over the status of the store. He was afraid of what was going on with the store and whether or not it could survive this change or the way the place does business.

“I think that our accessory business is working well,” he continued. “We’ve sold lots of blank discs for media recording purposes. There’s clearly a scene out there.

“We’ve had some finicky customers as well. There’s one guy who came in here a few days ago to return some guitar strings that he said didn’t work. They kept breaking on him. He has shown up a few times but not as often as he used to a few weeks ago. It’s always the same brand and style for him.”

“So some guy keeps on coming in to return guitar strings? You’d think that if one brand is not working well for him, he’d switch to a different one, right? Or maybe he needs to go to a different store to buy them,” Charles said.

That’s when it hit Charles—if this guy keeps on replacing old guitar strings then what is he doing? He suddenly thought about something—they say that people can kill others with piano wires. What about guitar strings? They’re practically the same thing.

“Jake, I need to see your security tapes again.”

The last time that the person had returned strings was a day after the last in-room death at the hotel. Charles then went back into the security room and fast-forwarded through the footage of the day when the person last returned guitar strings.

He found the person who returned the strings to get new ones. However, he noticed an interesting point about the person in the video. He then compared the video to the one of Bruce earlier that week.

He noticed a few interesting similarities. While the person who returned strings had blonde hair, Bruce had brown hair. However, the hair appeared to be of the same length.

Also, he noticed a similarity in height between the two people. They also appeared to be of the same build. In addition, while the man returning the strings had glasses, Bruce did not. Still, their noses appeared to have the same appearances. In addition, the glasses that were worn by the guy returning strings were clearly reading glasses that could be easily picked up at a local drugstore without a prescription.

“Wait a second.” Charles’s internal radar was screaming. “What can you tell me about the overall sales at your store?”

“I already told you, we are selling more accessories than actual musical parts,” Jake replied.

“No, I want to be a little more specific,” Charles answered. “What I mean is, what can you tell me about the sales of some of these products? Specifically, do you have records on how many guitar strings people are buying?”

“Well, the only person who has actually bought guitar strings is the guy that you’re talking about.”

He then began to put two and two together. “Holy shit, I gotta go.” Charles quickly exited the store. He had no desire to talk with Jake and had a strong feeling that something was amiss.