A Clean Kill (21 page)

April quickly ducked into the shower. When she came out, the first thing she saw was the black luggage and brightly colored summer clothes she'd bought for her cruise. It was Tuesday. Only three days of work left. The clothes were piled on a chair and hanging from a hook on the closet door. She put them out of her mind, dressed, and hurried downstairs with her hair still wet. There was no sign of her father, but Skinny was busy at the stove.

"Hi, Ma. How are you?" April wanted her mother gone, but she had to step carefully because she didn't want any dire repercussions from hurt feelings complicating her life right now.

"Didn't sleep at all," Skinny replied. She turned around to peer at April through dime-store reading glasses she claimed she didn't need. Then she approached her daughter, not to kiss her, but to smell her like Chinese doctors did to diagnose their patients.

It was her way of saying "Hello, how are you?" She sniffed April to see if she'd been near a dead person, or had sex, or otherwise been doing something Skinny Dragon didn't want her doing. April dodged the encounter, even though she was married and now had a state-sanctioned right to sex anytime she wanted it. "You didn't sleep because you're happier in your own bed," April murmured.

"Worm daughter's health more important than happiness."

April had never enjoyed being called a worm, and right then the reference to her health was ominous. "My health is great," she countered.

Skinny grunted. She was a- small woman with a shrewd expression, no excess flesh anywhere on her body. Her short hair was dyed jet-black and permed into a curly frizz that looked as fake as it was. It was impossible to tell how old she was. This morning she was dressed in loose black Chinese pants and a multicolored knockoff blouse probably made in Taiwan that was supposed to look like an expensive designer silk but didn't come close. Over the blouse was a buttoned-up knitted vest of multicolored yarn that didn't match a single color in the blouse. She could look pretty good when she wanted to, but clearly this wasn't one of those occasions.

"Your happiness is - number one to me, Ma," April said soothingly.

Skinny shook her head. "Worm's health more important than my comfort." That was the theme of the, day.

Oh, God, don't rise to the dig,
April told herself. Her mother was an uninvited guest. She'd wheedled a ride. from their tenant, Gao Wan, all the way up here to Hastings, and then he'd left her parents there. They had no way of getting home, so that must have been part of her plan. Now she was insulting the lovely guest room that had two windows, its own bathroom, good feng shui, and brand-new twin beds that didn't sag or squeak like Skinny's terrible old ones at home. But the accommodation wasn't the point. The point was Skinny was meddling again, and April had to put a stop to it.

"What's all this?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at the unusual breakfast. Her mother certainly had been busy. On the counter were bowls of steamed sweet potatoes, golden-fried bean curd, and some kind of hot cereal that looked as gluey as sludge. There vyas also a steaming mug of some milky potion.

"Yin food," Skinny said proudly.

"Yin food?" April was alarmed. If she got any more yin, she wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

"Good for fluid in womb."

April was horrified. It made her weak and queasy just hearing the words, and after all her admonitions to herself to keep calm, she erupted. "You have to stop this. I can take care of myself. I told you that last night. When I'm pregnant, I'll let you know."

"Let me see your tongue," Skinny demanded.

"No, you can't see my tongue. You have to go home."

Skinny ticked off on her fingers the number of months April and Mike had been married,. then moved closer to punch her daughter in the arm.

"Ow." April particularly hated it when she did that.

"No go home. You have too much yang,
ni.
Too much bossy. Too much get-up-and-go. Never get pregnant like that."

Since April had just not gotten up and gone, and now was late because of it, she vibrated with fury. She couldn't believe her mother had come over to help her get pregnant. "I can't take this," she said in Chinese. She wanted her privacy.

She and Mike weren't exactly
working
on having a baby, but they weren't trying to avoid it, either. They just didn't want to make a big thing about it, have everyone get in their faces. No wonder she had nightmares. She heard her husband's happy, post-sex feet skip down the stairs.

"Mamita,
how did you sleep?" Mike, too, had the good sense not to try to kiss her.

"Bu hao.
Here—" She slapped the mug with the milky potion in his hand. "Drink this."

He looked at it blankly. "This isn't coffee."

"Good for you," she said. In Chinese she added, "No more premature ejaculation."

"Ma!" April's eyes popped in horror. She'd never heard her mother talk sex like this. Womb fluid! Premature ejaculation! Was she nuts?

Skinny Dragon ignored her. She shook her finger at Mike. "Just soy milk, good for strength. You need it for honeymoon."

Dutifully, Mike took a sip.
"No me gusta,"'
he murmured to April. He didn't like it.

"He loves it, Ma," April translated.

Skinny nodded triumphantly and explained that slow sticky sweet potato and sludgy unpolished wheat-bran cereal would lubricate April, while the bean curd and soy milk would energize Mike. Yin and yang foods necessary to fix their problem. Mike got a funny look on his face. He was Spanish, after all,
mucho
macho in his own gentle way.

"Gotta go, Ma," April said quickly.

"Murder?" Skinny asked cheerfully.

"Big murder. A young mother was killed. Gao will come and get you. Thank you for the wonderful visit. I'm sure it will help."

"Not going home. Have work to do." Skinny put her hands on her hips.

"Ma, you have to go." April copied her. "If Dad were up, I'd take you home myself."

"We're not going,
ni.
He retired so we could take care of you and the baby," she said. "We're staying."

"Oh, jeez," Mike muttered. His phone rang and he walked away to answer it.

April took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "Tell me Dad did not retire."

"It's true," Skinny insisted.

"Are you sure?" It didn't sound like him.

"Well, maybe retire in a week or so." Skinny

paused, and April could see her forming another sentence. Suddenly the food on the counter didn't look
that
terrible. So what if it was an unbalanced diet? She was ravenous from all that sex. She took a bite of the sweet potato. It didn't taste like bacon and two fried eggs on toast, but ... it wasn't too bad, either. She tried the bean curd while her mother watched her eat.

Mike returned to the kitchen. Now his heavy footsteps didn't sound so sex-happy. "Get - your purse,
querida.
Alison Perkins is dead."

April forgot her mother and started moving.

Twenty-nine

T
he fortress like white stucco facade of the modem house where Alison Perkins had lived looked out of place on a block where redbrick apartment buildings dominated, and so did all the police vehicles. April was still reeling from the shock of a second death as Lily Eng caught sight of the car and hurried over before Mike shut down the engine.

"What took you so long?" she complained.

"Hey, Lily." April shook her head. They'd gotten a late start this morning, and the traffic had been heavy coming in. There was no need to say any of that. Besides, slJ.e was already working the case and didn't feel like chitchat.

They'd both been on the phone all the way into the city. Mike had talked with Sergeant Minnow, who hoped that Alison's death had been natural— a fluke of some kind like a heart attack. She was in bed. No one had touched her. April had called Sergeant Gelo from her cell, and Eloise started her report as soon as she heard her boss's voice.

"We went to Spirit, Ice, and Ramp last night," she said.

"What did you find out?" April asked.

"No one in the clubs remembers who was with Peret two nights ago. The owners all say they check IDs, and Peret couldn't have gotten in. They say he must have bought whatever he took somewhere else. Yada yada. Three of the girls were off yesterday, though, and I have their names."

"Well, talk to all the girls. With the right incentive someone will spill."

"We can do better than that. We have the kid's cell phone. We know where he went because he called some friends to join him. So we have him inside a club. Looks like Spirit."

"That's great news. Was the phone on him?"

"No, and the responding officer thought that was suspicious. Every kid has a cell, right? So he searched the scene after Peret was taken to the hospital, found it, and brought it in."

"Good going. Remember his name."

"Charlie checked out the kid's last calls and his incoming calls. Two of the girls who work at Spirit are in his phone list. One of them actually called him and left a message yesterday. So we're talking to her later. Have you heard about Mrs. Perkins?" Eloise changed the subject.

"Yes. I'm on my way over there now. I want you to do a few things for me, okay?" April asked. Eloise had worked yesterday and last night, but she was on the job again today.

"No problem."

"Look, I know you're not familiar with the Wilson case, but I need you on this. I made a tape of my conversation with Alison Perkins yesterday. Get your hands on it, and make a copy. We'll have to give the original to the task force on the case right away. We've got two nanny suspects, now. Alison's nanny was the one who found her body. I want you and Hagedorn to check her out. Do a deep background on both of the girls, Remy Banks and Lynn Papel.
Papel
is spelled
Peter, Apple, Peter, Egg, Lester.
I have a freaky feeling about this. Really freaky. You can start with the employment agency. It's Anderson."

''Yes, boss." Eloise was silent for a moment. "What are you looking for?"

I'm not sure yet. We're still working on the Wayne Wilson angle. He could have persuaded Remy to kill Maddy. Alison's death could just be an attempt to confuse us on Maddy's, or to shut Alison's mouth. She talked a lot yesterday. One of the husbands could have done this. The two men are friends—maybe they had a plan. But we also need to check for other connecting points. Find out if the nannies knew each other before they went to work for Wilson and Perkins, what's in their job files. Were they ever in trouble? Hagedorn knows how to do it."

"So do I," Gelo muttered.

"Yes. That was good work you did last night. Good thinking on the phone. Call me with whatever you get."

April ended the conversation and stared out the window at the traffic. Immediately she started brooding on the time of Maddy's, and now Alison's, death. Early morning was a highly unusual time for murder. Night was the dangerous time because that's when people came home from work, had cocktails, got ready for dinner, ate their dinner, and let loose their pent-up emotions and frustrations from the day. They quarreled about lovers, work, children—being too close, or too far away. Night was when people drank, tempers flared, and violence occurred most often.

Morning was usually the aftermath. It was the cooldown time when the law responded with arrests. When the sun came up, aggressors and, victims had heavy heads; they had jobs to go to. Often they were remorseful and vowed not to hurt each other again. Victims felt guilty for inciting rage cin their partners and, later, for drawing attention to their plight with their injuries. After a fight, if an arrest was forthcoming, officers tried to go in the morning. Normally, people did not kill or get killed over coffee and toast. But suddenly there were two cases in which, within twenty-four hours, two close friends, each with two little children, had died during this usually safe time. For these two women, morning was their window of vulnerability, and the killer knew that. To April, it had become a very personal case. But she made sure she showed none of this when she faced the news shark Lily Eng, who was waiting to be fed her pound of human flesh.

"Why didn't you call me back last night?" she demanded as April got out of the car.

"I worked late, and I can't talk now. Sorry, Lily," April told her. "Maybe later."

"Wait a minute—you weren't working late. I saw you on the news having dinner with Wayne Wilson. Come on, give me a little something. Has he been cleared as a suspect, or what?"

Mike came around- to the passenger side. "Hi,

Lily. You know we weren't having dinner with anyone," he said, gently scolding her.

She gave him an innocent smile. "Okay, so you weren't eating with him. But you were there. I could make something of it if I wanted to."