Murder & The Monkey Band: High Desert Cozy Mystery Series (5 page)

“Let’s start in the kitchen,” Marty
said after they’d said goodbye to Jim. “I like to do my appraisals by going
room by room. When I’m finished with a room, I do one more walk around in it
and then put that room and what I’ve appraised in it out of my mind and get
ready for the next one. May seem silly, but it works for me. I know some
appraisers do it by category. In other words, they’ll do all the rugs in the
house at the same time, or all the glassware. There are no hard and fast rules
on how to conduct an appraisal, but my method works best for me.”

“What do you want me to
do?” Laura asked.

“I’d like you to take
those Quimper plates off the wall, one at a time, and bring each one over to
me. When I’ve recorded the necessary information and photographed it, you can
put it back exactly where it was.”

Rosa walked into the
kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” she asked.

“Not a thing. We’ll
probably be in the kitchen for the next couple of hours, and then I’ll start on
the dining room.”

“Let me make you some
lunch. Mrs. Jensen loved my Mexican Eggs Benedict, and I can prepare them for
you when you’re finished in the kitchen. It would make me feel like I’m doing
something for her.”

“Thank you. That would be
lovely. If we don’t have to stop and leave for lunch, the appraisal will go
faster. I’ll let you know when we finish up in here.”

When Rosa was out of
earshot, Laura leaned over to Marty at the table where she was setting up and
said, “You asked me to let you know what I felt, so here’s the first thing.
Rosa is definitely spooked by something. I don’t get the feeling that she
murdered Mrs. Jensen, but she knows something, and I’m getting a real feeling
of guilt from her.”

“Okay, good to know. I’ll
keep it in mind. Let’s get on with this. Start with the top plate, left hand
side. Go across that row and then back to the left middle row, etcetera.”

“What makes these so
valuable, Marty?” Laura asked as she placed a plate which displayed a brightly
colored French peasant woman on it in front of Marty. “I mean, they have a
certain charm, but why do you suppose she collected these?”

“From what I’m seeing, she
only collected the best. From our quick walkthrough and looking at these
plates, there’s not a nick or scratch on them, which is highly unusual when
you’re dealing with tin glazed pottery. Obviously they’re French, and the marks
are telling me they were made in the early 18th century, which makes them some
of the earliest around. To have them be that old and not damaged means they’re
worth a lot of money. Quimper pottery was made in all kinds of forms, from
knife rests to inkstands to figurines, and about everything else. They usually
had designs of Breton peasants, animals, flowers, or sea forms. These plates
are the best I’ve run across.”

“Would I be right in
assuming she didn’t eat off of these plates?”

“I would be highly
doubtful. Lead was often used in the glaze of early pottery pieces. In the
early 20
^th
century a leadless glaze was developed, but there’s
always been talk that early pottery pieces could be dangerous to anyone who ate
off of them. They were primarily decorative items.”

Two hours later, after
Laura had counted all of the kitchenware items and sorted them, and Marty had
photographed everything and taken the information she needed from the antique
items, Marty said, “Time to tell Rosa we could use some lunch. Don’t know about
you, but I’m hungry, and I need a break.” She walked out of the kitchen and said
in a loud voice, “Rosa, I think we’re ready for lunch. Thank you so much. We’ll
be in the dining room.”

Rosa appeared from the
bathroom with cleaning items in a basket and said, “Perfect timing. I just
finished cleaning the bathroom. Lunch will be ready in about twenty minutes.
Would iced tea be all right with you?”

“Sounds wonderful. Thank
you.”

“Laura, trust me, I doubt
if you’ll ever see antiques like this in any home. I venture to say this
collection is probably the best your insurance company insures. I mean, a whole
room full of Chippendale and Hepplewhite furniture? Impossible! You see some in
museums, but this is incredible. I don’t know if she had a budget or what, but
somebody was major bucks up, and I mean major, if they could buy these items. Here,
you could hold this end of the tape measure for me.”

Twenty minutes later Rosa
walked into the dining room, “Lunch is ready. I think it’s too warm out to eat
on the patio, so I set the table in the breakfast nook. It has a nice view of
the infinity pool and the hills. I hope that’s all right.”

“Definitely. We could both
use a break. Thank you,” Marty said as they followed Rosa into the kitchen.
“I’ve never had Mexican Eggs Benedict before, but from the way they look, I’m
probably going to want the recipe.”

“I’d be happy to give it
you. My mother often made it on Sundays when we returned from Mass. Please
enjoy.”

“That’s exactly what I
intend to do,” Marty said, taking a forkful of egg and cornbread. After a
moment, she looked over at the sink where Rosa was washing the dishes she’d
used in making the luncheon. “Rosa, this is fabulous. I definitely want the
recipe.”

“Thank you. Were you
expecting anyone? The gate buzzer just rang.”

“No. Go ahead and answer
it. We’re fine.”

As soon as she was gone,
Laura whispered, “Sorry, Marty, you may not want to hear this, but I can see
Rosa’ aura and it’s black, which would fit in with the guilty feeling I was
getting earlier. She definitely knows something and may have even had something
to do with the murder, and if she didn’t, she’s afraid she did.”

“Laura, come on. How can
you know that? You’re going to tell me that sweet little woman had something to
do with the woman who was murdered, the woman who had employed her for years? I
don’t buy it.”

“Quite frankly, I don’t
care whether you buy it or not. I’m simply telling you what I’m seeing.”

“Let’s just drop it for
now. I want to enjoy this meal. Actually we should probably tell John about it.
I’ll bet The Red Pony could sell this pretty easily. He could make the cornbread
ahead of time like Rosa did and then just heat the beans, poach the eggs, and
put on the finishing touches. Gotta give him the recipe tonight. I’ll get it
from Rosa before we leave.”

Rosa walked back into the
kitchen accompanied by a large heavyset man with greying hair and a mustache to
match. Marty had no idea who he was, but he certainly looked like someone she
would definitely like to get to know better.

As Marty looked up from her plate of
Mexican Eggs Benedict at the big handsome man who had just walked into the room
she felt her heart do a flip-flop. For absolutely no reason whatsoever she had
the fleeting thought,
so you’ve come, I’ve been waiting for you
.
Huh?
What is this all about? What is going on? I feel like a teenager. I can
barely look at him, he’s so gorgeous. It must have something to do with Laura’s
psychic powers. I’ll get back at her later.

The big man said,
“Hi,
I’m Detective Jeff Combs with the Palm Springs Police Department. Which one of
you is Marty?”

“That would be me,” she
said in a strained voice. It was all she could do to get it out of her mouth.
She was completely flustered by him and hoped she didn’t faint or do something
else equally unsophisticated.

“Well, Marty it’s nice to
meet you. And this must be your sister, Laura. Would I be correct?”

“That you would,” Laura
said. “Why don’t you sit down and join us? We were just finishing lunch. I’m
sure Rosa has more makings for the Mexican Eggs Benedict and can poach some
eggs quickly.”

“I’d love to join you, but
I just ate lunch, however I would take a glass of iced tea,” he said, turning
to Rosa, “if that’s not too much trouble.”

Rosa placed a frosty glass
of iced tea in front of him and walked back to the sink to finish the dishes
she’d been washing.

“When Jim told me he was
having the items appraised I thought I’d better meet the appraiser and ask a
few questions since this is a murder investigation, and you might find
something out that could be important concerning the case.”

“Marty, I’ll be back in a
minute. I need to use the bathroom,” Laura said.

When she was gone, Marty
turned to the detective and said, “Of course. What kind of questions can I
answer for you?”

“Well, first of all I see
you’re not wearing a wedding ring. May I assume you’re not married?”

“Yes,” Marty said, feeling
her face redden, “but what does that have to do with my appraisal?”

“Absolutely nothing, but I
wanted to find out. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, actually I don’t see
how you couldn’t be, but I feel like there’s some kind of an electric spark
going back and forth between us. If I’m really out of line, I apologize. This
is crazy.”

“I agree, it’s crazy.
Let’s get back to the appraisal,” she said hoping he didn’t see the twitch in
her right eyelid which always happened when she got nervous.

“Marty, are you okay?”
Jeff said, leaning towards her. “It looks like your right eyelid is twitching.”

“Yes, I’m fine. It happens
sometimes when I’m tired. I’ve really been concentrating this morning. I’m sure
that’s what it is. It’s nothing to be concerned about.”

Laura walked back into the
room, took one look at Marty and said, “Marty, what’s wrong? Your eyelid’s
twitching, and it only twitches when you’re nervous.”

When we get in the car and
drive back to the compound, I am going to stop the car, throw you out, and make
you walk back the rest of the way. Let’s see if your psychic stuff picks up on
that. Maybe it will teach you to keep your big mouth shut.

“No, I’m not nervous at
all,” Marty said. “Probably just a little tired from how hard I was
concentrating this morning.” She turned to the detective. “How can I help you?”

“You know that Mrs. Jensen
was murdered last week. I just got the coroner’s report, and it indicates that
the murder weapon was a .9mm pistol. The bullet was lodged in her chest. What I
would ask of you is if you see anything you think is strange or something you
think I might want to know, please tell me.”

“Of course. What kinds of
things should I be looking for?” Marty asked.

“Obviously if you find a
gun I want to know about it. I don’t know much about antiques. That’s your
field. I’m curious if she had some antiques other collectors would want, maybe
even kill for.”

“I haven’t run across any
yet, but this is just the first day of the appraisal.”

“Her son, Jim, tells me he
and his sister are going to inherit everything according to the terms of the
Will, and he also mentioned he hadn’t been able to find a ten carat diamond
ring his mother owned. He said he’d asked you to keep an eye out for it.” He
smiled at her, and she felt her heart flipping around in her chest like a trout
trying to jump out of the net. The thought brought back a memory of her father
fishing with her when she was young. Her job had been to put the net in the
water so her father could get the trout in it.

Keep it together, Marty,
keep it together. You can fall apart when you get home tonight. He’s got to be
leaving soon.

“Yes, he mentioned that to
me and of course, I’ll keep an eye out for it. Do you have any suspects at the
moment?”

“No, and that’s very
frustrating. Her husband’s deceased, she seemed to have a good relationship
with her children, and no one has told me anything scandalous about her, and
yet someone wanted her dead. Cases like this one are what’s causing my hair to
prematurely turn grey.”

“I can imagine. I’ll let
you know if I find anything.”

“Here’s my business card,
and I’ll write my cell phone number on the back. I’d like your number as well
in case I need to get in touch with you. Actually, let me have your address
too. Sometimes cell phones don’t work in the hills,” Jeff said with a roguish
grin. He watched while she entered his number in the contacts list on her cell
phone.

At the sound of the gate
buzzer, Rosa turned to the detective and said, “Are you expecting someone?”

“No. my staff doesn’t even
know I’m here. What’s the buzzer for?”

“It’s the front gate. I’ll
answer it and see who it is.”

Rosa walked over to the
intercom and said, “Who is it?”

“Rosa, it’s
Nikki Bolen. Could I come in for a minute?”

“She was Mrs.
Jensen’s best friend. Is it all right if I buzz her in?” Rosa asked, her hand
covering the intercom. All three of them nodded in the affirmative. “I’m
unlocking the gate right now, Mrs. Bolen. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

A few moments
later a beautiful dark haired woman entered the kitchen. “Hi, I’m Nikki Bolen.
I was probably Pam’s best friend,” she said, extending a well-tended hand to
them. She was dressed in a simple white blouse and khaki skirt with white
wedged sandals in stark contrast to her perfectly polished red toenails.
Although there was nothing ostentatious about her outfit, Marty knew she was
looking at a woman who was wearing about $1,000 worth of clothes to say nothing
of the enormous diamond ring on her ring finger. Although the diamond ring far
surpassed the diamond tennis bracelet and the diamond stud earrings she wore,
and even though jewelry wasn’t her specialty and she usually had to get an
expert’s opinion on the value of it, Marty knew Nikki’s jewelry alone was worth
thousands of dollars.

“May I join
you? Rosa, if you wouldn’t mind, that iced tea looks so good, I’d love a glass.
Detective, it’s good to see you again. Have you found out anything about Pam’s
death?”

“Nikki, I wish
I could tell you we’d arrested whoever did it, but unfortunately at this moment
I don’t even have a suspect. You were her closest friend. Maybe you can tell me
something that will help. Actually, I was going to call you to see if you had
any ideas.”

“Well,
Detective, feel free to call me any time,” she said, batting her eyelashes at
him.

Marty felt a
sudden white hot flash of hatred for the woman.
What in the devil is wrong
with me? It’s obvious they know each other. I’m the new kid on the block. For
all I know they may have been involved in a relationship for years. This is
absolutely crazy. I’ve got to get ahold of myself.

“What can you
tell me about Mrs. Jensen? I know she was wealthy and quite beautiful, but in a
town like Palm Springs, that doesn’t make her all that different from a lot of
other women,” the detective said, a little nervously Marty thought.

“Pam had three
passions in life. First was Brian. She was devastated when he died, even though
he was fifteen years older than she was. Her other two passions were non-profit
organizations and her antique collection. She was on the board of most of the
major charitable organizations in the city and gave to almost every cause, from
stray cats to runaway children to the homeless. When she married Brian, she was
immediately admitted into a very rarified group – the extremely wealthy people
of Palm Springs. Because she knew these people, she was very effective at
raising money for her favorite charities.”

“From what
I’ve seen this morning, she also must have spent a great deal of time learning
about antiques and following auctions,” Marty said.

“Yes, that was
her third passion. She often bid by phone when major auction houses throughout
the United States, actually all over the world, had a piece she wanted. She was
very knowledgeable, and I’ve been with her on a number of occasions when she
was bidding. She knew exactly when to stop and never got caught up in the hype
and almost circus like atmosphere that often surrounded the items.”

“Was she
emotionally attached to the items, or did she collect mainly for investment
purposes?” Marty asked, “Not that it makes any difference in the valuation of
the pieces.”

“She was
emotionally attached in that she enjoyed everything she bought. There were some
jewelry pieces she loved, and certainly she loved the Meissen Monkey Band. I
think the rest of her antiques simply brought joy to her. Even though Pam had
an outstanding collection, I never heard her brag about it. In fact, people
often brought the subject of her collection up in a conversation with her,
because they had heard how extraordinary it was.

“Turning to
another subject, Pam’s husband felt her son, Jim, was trying to bleed her dry,
and I don’t know if you know this, but Pam told me last week that she’d
mentioned to Jim she was going to have a new Will prepared. From what she told
me, he was furious. She was afraid she’d lose her courage, so she went to her
lawyer and did it.”

“Do you know
why Jim was so angry and what was in the new Will? This might be very important
to the case,” Jeff asked.

“She felt very
bad that Brian had left his daughter by his first marriage, Amy, out of his
Will. Pam never felt very good about taking Amy’s father from her and developed
a very good relationship with her. They often saw each other, and I know Pam
was very fond of her. Pam knew that Brian would disapprove of the relationship,
so she never told him about it. After he died and left everything to her, Pam
decided to add Amy to her Will. She willed half of her estate to Amy and the
other half to her son and daughter, Jim and Marilyn.”

“Wow, that
means Jim would lose half of his inheritance when that happened. Right?” Laura
asked.

“Yes. I know
she did it because we met for lunch afterwards, and she was a little shaken up
about it, because she knew Jim would probably be furious that she’d actually
done it.” She turned to Detective Combs. “Do you know if Jim has found out
about it?”

Marty spoke
up. “I don’t think he knows about the change in her Will, because he told me he
and his sister were the sole beneficiaries. Nothing was said about Amy.”

“We talked
about suspects earlier,” Jeff said, “and I said we had none. I think I have one
now if Jim found out his mother had, in fact, changed her Will. When I talked to
Jim, he gave me the name of Pam’s attorney, and I called his office. He’s out
of town, but he’s due back this afternoon. I asked his secretary to call me
when he returns.”

“I have a nail
appointment,” Nikki said, looking at her watch. “I really need to go. Nice to
meet you,” she said to Marty and Laura. She turned to Jeff, “You already have
my phone number. I’d love to hear from you. Rosa, would you lock the door
behind me?” She turned and walked out the kitchen and towards the front door.
Within seconds they heard her scream.

Jeff jumped up
and ran to where Nikki stood pointing her finger at the Meissen collection,
Rosa not far behind her. Laura and Marty joined them. “Nikki, what’s wrong?”
She was absolutely white, and her hand was shaking.

“The Monkey Band
is gone.”

“I’m sorry,
Nikki, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jeff said.

“Remember, I
told you it was one of the few antiques that Pam was attached to. It was her
pride and joy. Brian bought it for her, and there are very few complete and original
sets like hers in the world. The set dated from the 18
^th
century and
was almost priceless. It looks like the rest of the Meissen collection is
here.” She turned to Jeff and said, “Pam told me once that people would kill to
own the Monkey Band. It was that rare. If you find out who wanted the Monkey
Band, you’ll probably have another suspect.” She turned and walked out the
door.

“Rosa, what
can you tell me about this? Do you know anything about it being missing?”

“No. I dusted
her Meissen collection about once a week, sometimes less than that because it
was behind glass and didn’t collect much dust. It was here the last time I
dusted.”

Marty noticed
that Laura was staring intently at Rosa and knew she’d hear more about that
later.

Just then
Jeff’s phone rang. “Yes, I’m on my way,” he said. “Ladies, I’ve enjoyed talking
to you. Marty I’ll probably call you this evening to find out more about this
Monkey Band thing. Right now I’m needed down at the station. Rosa, thank you
for the iced tea.” He hurriedly walked out the front door.