The Pot Thief Who Studied Ptolemy [02] (23 page)
Read The Pot Thief Who Studied Ptolemy [02] Online
Authors: J Michael Orenduff
“I need to go back to Gerstner’s apartment and search it more thoroughly.”
“But you said you did a thorough search the first time,”
“I did. But all I was doing then was searching places big enough to hold a pot. Now I want to search everywhere. And since there’s very little chance of anyone coming in, I can take my time and do just that.”
“What if the police come in?”
“I’m sure they’ve finished everything they need to do.”
“But won’t there be crime tape or whatever they call it?”
“Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Maybe you should get Fletcher to go with you.”
“Now I
really
hadn’t thought of that. Why would he?”
“It’s Whit Fletcher, Hubert.”
“Oh. Money.”
Then she changed the subject and said, “I have some exciting news from work.”
“What’s that?” I responded.
“Kaylee’s pregnant!”
“Who’s the father?”
“Hubert! That’s a terrible thing to say.”
Kaylee was a runaway who showed up at my shop like a stray puppy. She made passes at me, Tristan, and even Father Groaz, which accounts for my snide remark. Susannah got her a job as a pot scrubber at
La Placita
, and she married Arturo, one of the other pot scrubbers.
“Sorry,” I said. “When’s the blessed event expected?”
“April. And they’ve already picked out names.”
Susannah had that enigmatic smile on her face. It set me on edge, but I said nothing.
“Do you want to know what they are?”
I could see she was really excited, so I said of course I wanted to know.
And you already know what she said: “Susannah if it’s a girl, and Hubert if it’s a boy.”
Susannah left for class, and I sat there thinking about Kaylee and Arturo supporting a child on the wages they made as pot scrubbers. Then I thought about my rented store – now devoid of the replicas that had been smashed – and wondered if there might be a way to do something with the space that would provide employment for at least one of the young couple. A crazy idea came to me, but I shoved it aside in favor of more pressing concerns like how to avoid prison.
44
As we headed for the entrance to Rio Grande Lofts, Fletcher asked me to try to keep our task as quick and simple as possible since his visit was not official. Luckily, Rawlings was not on duty.
Fletcher showed his badge to the doorman and told him we were going up for some further forensic work in 1101.
“Will you need a key?”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said before Whit could answer.
After we were in the elevator, Fletcher asked me, “You got a key to the place, Hubert?”
“No.”
“Neither do I. It’s bad enough me coming down here with a suspect. I could lose my badge. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to be seen goin’ in to the property room to get our key, so how you figurin’ to get in?”
“You told me you wanted this visit to be quick and simple, so I guessed you didn’t want to hang around in the lobby while the doorman searched for the spare key and then maybe had you sign it out or something.”
“Yeah, I don’t need to be signing anything, but quick and easy won’t mean much if we can’t get in.”
“Trust me.”
“Trusting you puts acid in my stomach, but it usually puts a few dollars in my pocket, so do what you gotta do.”
He ran a pocketknife between the door and the jamb neatly slicing all the yellow tape. When he finished, I took out my piece of plastic and loided the door.
“Jesus, Hubert, you really are a burglar.”
I had given him most of the background, and when he found out what the pots were worth, he agreed to go along with me. He started searching the apartment and I sat down and went through all the papers in the drawer of the hutch. I found what I thought I needed. He didn’t find anything, but I really didn’t expect him to.
“Where’s the chalk outline of the body?”
“We don’t do that no more, Hubert. We got these photographers that take a bunch of pictures. You didn’t kill him, did you?” It wasn’t a question.
I shook my head.
“Well then you wouldn’t know where he was. We found him slumped over on that couch.”
I walked over and looked around. “There’s not much blood.”
“Geez, I guess all the detectives and the lab techs must’a missed that, but thanks for pointin’ it out to me.”
“Sorry, Whit. I just thought there would be more blood.”
“Well, you’re right, Hubert. It bothered us at first, too. But take a look at that stain on the back of the couch. You see how it’s sort of swirly? We figure there was more blood but the murderer wiped most of it off.”
“Why would he do that?”
“How the hell would I know? Maybe the killer was a professional upholsterer and hated to see the couch ruined. Criminals do strange things, Hubert. They ain’t normal like me and you. Well, me anyway.”
I showed him what I found and what I thought it meant.
“Well, I hope you’re right for both our sakes. And remember, Hubert, I was never here. I’m just glad I didn’t have to identify myself to the doorman. The badge was all it took. But he might remember me if he ever had to, so don’t mess up.”
We left the apartment, and Whit put fresh crime scene tape around the door. Then we walked to the elevator. The door opened before we could push the button, and guess who stepped out?
“Hubie! I knew you lived on this floor. I remember riding up with you the day we first met. What a mess you were.” Then she turned to Whit and said, well you know what she said.
“Of course he knows you Stella. Everyone does. Stella, this is Joseph Inchaustigui.”
“Pleased to meet you, Joseph. Hubert, do you have a minute to talk?”
“Sure, why don’t we all get on the elevator and you and I can get off at four and Joseph can ride on down to the lobby.” Slick how I avoided having the conversation on the eleventh floor, wasn’t it? I guess I could have pretended 1101 was my apartment, but she probably would have noticed the crime scene tape, not to mention that loiding my own door to get inside might have set off a few alarm bells in her head.
45
“Hubert, I don’t think you’ve been completely honest with me.”
“Why do you say that, Stella?”
“Because I asked Rawlings which apartment Hubert lives in and he said he didn’t know any resident named Hubert. He asked me your last name, and of course I couldn’t tell him because you never gave me your last name.”
“You never gave me your last name, either.”
She laughed. She had a very good laugh. “That’s because you already knew my last name, silly. And then, Hubert, I saw you with another woman, and I thought maybe you have a serious relationship with her, and that’s why you were a little hesitant at first the other day when I showed you how to iron.”
That wasn’t the only thing you showed me, I thought to myself. “She’s just a friend,” I said.
“Is that why she was here the other night wearing an evening dress? And you were wearing an ascot, which, by the way, looked really sexy. So I figured the two of you had been to that big party upstairs and then back to your apartment for a nightcap and…and what else, Hubert?”
“Nothing else, Stella. You’re right about the party. She was invited to the party by someone she met over the internet, and she asked me to go along because... well, internet dating, you know?”
“Tacky.”
“That’s what I thought. Anyway, I wish I hadn’t gone because someone was murdered in the building during the party, and the police thought I did it. They even arrested me.”
“I know all about it, Hubie. Everybody in the building is talking about it. That Frederick Blass is not too popular among the residents, always having big loud parties. Some people were saying he invited a murderer to our building, but I told them you didn’t do it.”
“How do you know I didn’t do it?”
“I have inside information, silly,” she said as she slid over closer to me.
“Tell me about Susannah, Hubert.”
“Really, we’re just friends.”
“I’m happy to hear that, because I’ll tell you what I was thinking. I was thinking maybe you left your wife because of Susannah. But it really is the other way around? She left you for a younger man?”
“She did.” Well, what else could I say? This didn’t seem to be the time or place to set the record straight.
She scooted even closer to me on her couch. She smelled faintly of some exotic fruit like persimmon or guava. Or maybe it was passion fruit – that would make sense.
“I’m glad we had this talk, Hubert, because I’m very attracted to you, and I’d hate to think you were leading me along.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not doing that,” I said honestly. I mean, who was leading whom here?
“You know, Hubert, everyone imagines I must have a terrific love life. I know I’m attractive, intelligent, and charming, and of course what I do is considered glamorous by most people, although I can tell you it’s extremely demanding work.”
“I know it is. And the hours are terrible.”
“You
do
understand, Hubert. I knew you would. And because of the glamour of it all, I get a lot of men coming on to me, but usually they’re not my type. In fact, some of them are weirdos. That’s why I’d never meet men over the internet. I’m sorry to speak ill of your friend Susannah, but I think computer dating is really tacky.”
I muttered something in agreement.
“So I feel lucky, Hubert.” She inched even closer. “I didn’t have to go online to meet you. All I had to do was get on the elevator. Isn’t that lucky, Hubert?”
“It is.”
“Do you feel lucky, too?”
“Sure. I mean—”
Then her hands were all over me and her mouth was all over me, and once again my mind was not up to the task of thinking up a reason to resist, so I didn’t.
46
Susannah put her drink on the table and let her hands drop to her side. “She still doesn’t know your last name?”
“When she said I hadn’t given her my last name, I answered that she hadn’t given me hers either, and she thought that was funny because everyone knows who she is. And then she started talking about herself.”
“Including that she’s ‘attractive, intelligent, and charming’.”
“Right. And then she started talking about how much she was attracted to me and how lucky she was—”
“I know, I know, then you got lucky too. But didn’t you talk afterwards?”
“Umm… well, I fell asleep.”
Susannah laughed. “Well, I guess it’s nice to know you’re a typical male, Hubert.”
“When I woke up, she was gone. She left me a note saying she’d gone to work.”
“Geez. What does that woman do?”
I waved to the dusky Angie and she acknowledged my refill request with a wide smile.
When she delivered it, I tasted it as usual to be sure it was as good as the last one. It was.
“Are you interested in what we found in Gerstner’s apartment, Suze, or are your only interests purely prurient?”
“I have no interest in that woman, Hubert, prurient or otherwise. I just find it amazing that after you spend the night in a parking garage, a gorgeous woman happens to get on the elevator with you, you feed her a ridiculous line about your wife leaving you for a younger man, and the next thing you know she’s giving you nude ironing lessons. Meanwhile, I’m reduced to using online services to meet a man.”
“You did meet a man, Suze, and at least you know what sort of work he does.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“So how’s it progressing?”
“Well, we have our second date tonight. He’s meeting me here.”
I sensed a lack of enthusiasm. “You have some reservations about Freddie?”
“No. Well, maybe.”
“He’s handsome, witty, has a good position at the university. Throws a great party, too.”
She nodded.
“So why the reservations?”
She pushed her glass around the tabletop in small circles. “Maybe he seems too good to be true. Is he really suave or just slick? I don’t know, Hubie. He talks about art and fame and money... Maybe he went on line because he was treasure hunting.”
“Then why select you? Did your message on the dating site say ‘rich girl wants to meet handsome gigolo’?”
“You know what it said. You thought it up.”
Here came that queasy feeling again. “I’m not sure that using my crazy idea was—”
“Forget it. Tell me what you found in Gerstner’s apartment.”
