Died with a Bow (7 page)

“But I have to tell you my prints will be all over everything. I found Vienna. I touched her. I picked up the hanger. Oh, my God, maybe the hanger is the murder weapon.” I pressed my palm against my head.

“Don’t worry about it now,” he said.

“When should I worry about it?”

“I’ll let you know.”

I was sure of that. I took a deep breath and looked around the office. “Nice place you’ve got here,” I said. “Big promotion?”

“More of a lateral move. I’m still a detective.”

“Specializing in homicides?” I asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said.

I shook my head. He was referring to that other murder. The murder with which I really had had nothing to do other than that the victim was a customer and I was the prime suspect, which forced me to take an active role in solving the case. “Look, Jack,” I said. “I had nothing to do with this and not much to do with the Jensen murder for that matter. Other than they both concerned persons connected to my place of work. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Such as in the shop on a Sunday morning. Do you want to tell me what you know about Vienna Fairchild?”

I knew it was pointless to ask “Do I have a choice?” again, so I didn’t. Instead, I told him how I barely knew Vienna. But it turned out once he started questioning me, I knew quite a bit about her, including her so-called boyfriend, her father, her mother, her stepparents, her taste in clothes and where she was the last evening of her life.

“By the way,” I said, “you and Vienna and I were all at the same function last night.”

“That charity thing?” he asked. “Tell me about it.”

“What can I tell you,” I said, “that you don’t know? You were there too. I saw you.” I’d also seen the woman who bid on him, but if he didn’t bring it up, neither would I.

“Don’t worry about what I know or I don’t know. I want to know what you know.”

I blinked. I tried to follow, but my brain was getting tired by now. No big surprise after what I’d been through. I started telling him about Vienna’s dress and her bidding at the auction and the last time I saw her in the ladies’ room.”

“I thought you saw her this morning at your shop,” he said.

“Yes, but she was dead.”

“How did you know?” he asked.

“I didn’t until your officer told me. Although…”

“Yes?”

“She didn’t seem to be breathing, and she had those marks on her neck.” I shuddered. When I looked up, he was twisting a pen in his fingers and watching me closely. What had I said? Something incriminating?

“How would you describe your relationship with Ms. Fairchild?” he asked me as he leaned back in his chair.

“You mean when she was alive,” I said, shifting from side to side. Why even try to get comfortable? That wasn’t the goal. The goal was to get out of there. Jack’s relaxed posture didn’t fool me. He was trying to get me to speak without thinking, to say things I shouldn’t if I wanted to walk out of here as a regular citizen and not a suspect.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” he said. “We’ll get to the part about her death later.”

I glanced at my watch. “Later? How much later? I have a swimming workout scheduled.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Your office is open on Sunday, so is my health club. Some of us work during the week and we have Sundays off.” Of course, Jack worked during the week and on Sundays too when he had a homicide on his hands.

“I’ll try not to keep you much longer. Just a few more questions today.”

Today? Were there going to be more tomorrow?

“I’ll be honest,” I said. “Even though I’m not under oath.” Which I hoped he’d appreciate. “I was resentful of Vienna. She came to work for Dolce and took my place. She was a good saleswoman, and she worked on commission only. I got delegated to the stockroom, which I didn’t like. So there you have a motive if you need one. I wanted my job back.” I couldn’t tell from Jack’s stone face if he believed me—part of me was foolishly hoping he was so impressed with how forthcoming I’d been, he’d give me a pat on the back and send me on my way. But what the hell? He would find out sooner or later that Vienna had taken my place. Better he should hear it from me.

“Detective Wall,” I said, trying to show respect and mindful that we were on his turf, “I think I’ve told you everything I know about Vienna.”

“Have you?” he asked. “When was the last time you saw Ms. Fairchild?”

“You mean alive?”

“Yes, I mean alive.”

“Last night in the ladies’ room at the hotel. She gave me her winning bid.”

“Really. Why was that?”

“Oh, oh, now I remember,” I said as a lightbulb went off over my head. “She said she couldn’t use it because her boyfriend would kill her.” I couldn’t believe I’d almost forgotten that. There, I’d solved the crime for him.

Jack raised his eyebrows. He was probably thinking the same thing: I can’t believe you forgot to tell me that. Case closed.

“Do you know who this boyfriend is?” he asked.

“I asked her that. I said, ‘Do you mean Geoffrey?’ and she said ‘Yeah, Geoffrey,’ but you know, the way she said it, I’m not sure she meant it.”

“What did she mean?”

“I don’t know,” I said, getting increasingly impatient. “That’s the last time I saw her.”

“Because you left the premises?”

“That’s right,” I said. “I went home in a taxi.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes.”

“What about your boss?”

“She was there when I left.”

“How did she get along with Ms. Fairchild?”

“Famously. Dolce thought Vienna was terrific. Ask her.”

“I intend to,” Jack said. “Can you account for Dolce Loren’s whereabouts for the rest of the evening?”

“No, I can’t. I left early. She was still there.”

“And then?”

“And then I went home.” I couldn’t believe he was grilling me like a suspect. I’d been straightforward with him, though I was beginning to wish I hadn’t been. Why tell him how I felt about Vienna? He didn’t need to know.

“Alone?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said stiffly. “I went home and I stayed there until this morning about nine.”

“Did you see anyone last night or this morning, a neighbor perhaps who could verify your presence?”

I did not like the way this was going. Not at all. “I didn’t see anyone. Of course, you could ask the taxi driver, who would say he dropped me off at around ten last night.” No
response. “Do you have any idea what time Vienna was killed?” I asked.

“I’m asking the questions,” he said.

“I understand that. I just wondered why Vienna would end up on the floor at Dolce’s.”

“That would be my question for you,” he said.

“The answer is I have no idea,” I said. “But I saw this program once where the killer took the body from somewhere to somewhere else to avoid suspicion or to plant suspicion on someone else. Maybe that’s what happened. Someone wanted you to think that either Dolce or I killed Vienna. Or he was just bringing her back to the place where she worked for some reason.” Jack didn’t look impressed, but I continued anyway. “What I mean is, she could have been killed anywhere, like at the auction itself or in some back alley—although her dress looked perfect when I found her. Just the way it was when I saw it earlier that night. So I don’t know,” I admitted. “I assume you’ll be questioning her family. Maybe they know. She was at the auction with them. At least I think she was with them.”

“I appreciate the suggestion,” he said, with just a tinge of sarcasm. Of course he would be questioning them. As well as Geoffrey. What did he think of my theory about moving the body? He didn’t say.

“Geoffrey isn’t her only boyfriend,” I said. “I don’t think so because she got picked up after work by different guys in different cars. A Porsche one day, a Lotus another day and an SUV.”

“I don’t suppose you got any license numbers?”

“No, why would I? I had no reason to spy on Vienna. That would be an invasion of her privacy and downright creepy.”

“God forbid you should be creepy. Sorry I asked.”

“Besides, how many Lotuses are there in town? You should be able to track this one down. And there’s her roommate, Danielle. She might know something.” Like did she kill Vienna for not paying the rent.

“Thanks, Rita,” he said as he entered something into his computer. Was it the persons or vehicles I’d suggested? Or had he entered some information about me? I’d have given anything to have a look at the screen in front of him.

“By the way,” he said, “who was Ms. Fairchild’s winning bid for? The one she gave you.”

“Dr. Rhodes.”

“Dr. Jonathan Rhodes at San Francisco General Hospital,” he said, glancing down at something on his desk. “Have you contacted him about it?”

“Not yet. Why, is there some reason I shouldn’t?”

“Go ahead,” he said. It was almost as if he was daring me. And what was I going to say to Jonathan?
I didn’t bid on you because I couldn’t afford it, but Vienna did and she gave me her ticket before she was murdered. How about that?

He stood to indicate the interview was over.

“I just have one question,” I said. “Are you sure it was murder?” Why did I ask? I wouldn’t be here if she’d just died from a poisonous snakebite or a heart attack. I’d seen those marks on her neck. I knew.

“We’re calling it a possible homicide while we wait for the coroner’s report. From what you said about those marks on her neck—”

“Yes, but—”

“I appreciate your coming in, Rita,” he said. “You’re free to go.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and stood up.

“Of course, we would appreciate it if you didn’t leave town without notifying us.”

I sat down again. “Is that usual?” I meant, was that usual for a nonsuspect.

“It’s customary in a murder investigation.”

“Then you must have the coroner’s report and you know it was murder.”

He didn’t bother to confirm or deny it. All he said was, “You’ve been helpful, and we may need to call on you again for some details, names or addresses you may have left out or forgotten.” He looked at a file folder on his desk. “Is your address and phone number the same?”

“Except I’ve moved to the third floor of the building,” I said.

“Better view?” he asked. He’d been to my old place during the investigation of the other murder. But I had no idea where he lived, since he never followed through on that dinner invitation.

“Slightly,” I said. “But a smaller place.”

Before I left, he instructed Rowley to drive me to the health club as a way of making up for interrupting my Sunday. He also said the site of the incident—he didn’t call it murder this time—had been cleared and was currently available. He handed me a card from a cleaning service that specialized in crime scenes and said we should call them. I said I’d give it to Dolce. I didn’t tell him she was missing. He probably knew. I wanted to ask him if he needed any help solving this crime, but I knew better. I could just see the expression on his face of “Here we go again.” I also realized it was not the time to remind him that he hadn’t followed through on his dinner invitation, so I just said, “Good luck,” and left.

I was too late for my water safety class, so I just snapped on my goggles, slipped into my Speedo and swam laps for a half hour. On a Sunday afternoon the pool wasn’t very crowded. I was able to switch off my brain, and it was good for me to do something mindless after a day like this. Still, the vision of Vienna in her gown lying on the floor kept getting in the way of my zoning out.

I was full of ideas of who might have killed Vienna, but unfortunately no one had asked me. Surely the information I’d given Jack about what Vienna had said about Geoffrey, plus the possible other men in her life and her roommate as well as her fractured family life would give him some suspects other than me to work on, but as usual he hadn’t shown his gratitude in a very demonstrative way.

I felt invigorated when I left the pool, and as soon as I turned on my cell phone, I saw I had a text message from Dolce to call her. At last she’d surfaced. I was so afraid of how she’d react to the news about Vienna, I went to a coffee shop, ordered an espresso and a blueberry scone, and found a quiet corner to call her after I’d fortified myself with the food and caffeine. Swimming always made me ravenous.

“Rita,” she said. “I just got a call from the police. I don’t believe it. Is it true? What happened?” She sounded hysterical.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I only know that I found Vienna this morning when I went to return my dress to the shop. She was lying on the floor in her dress with the pink bow. It was awful.” Now it was my turn to fall apart. I started crying. It took me many minutes before I finally got hold of myself. All the while Dolce was trying to comfort me, but she was in no shape to be the comforter. What a pair we were.

“Where are you?” I asked when I caught my breath.

“I’m at home. I couldn’t believe it when I saw that yellow crime scene tape across the entrance. There was an officer at the front door. I had to show my ID before they’d let me in.”

“That’s terrible,” I said. “They told me they’ve finished with it now, thank God. And I have the name of the company you should call about the cleanup.” I gave it to her, then I told her I’d tried to call her right after I found Vienna.

“I stayed at the hotel overnight,” she said, “and had brunch this morning in the Garden Court.”

“I’m glad you were able to enjoy it. I hear it’s fabulous. Sushi, dim sum, crepes…” I was glad Dolce hadn’t known about the murder or she’d never have been able to eat a bite of the delicious food in that beautiful room with the sun streaming in through the stained-glass windows.

I wanted to ask if she’d spent the night with the pilot and if so, had she had brunch with him too. But I held my tongue. She’d never pried into my personal life, and I certainly shouldn’t pry into hers.

“The Palace Court was even more beautiful this morning than last night,” she said wistfully. “I wish you could have been there.”

“I wish I’d been there too instead of stumbling across Vienna’s body in our great room.”

“How awful for you.”

“I’m the one who called the police.”