Armoires and Arsenic (20 page)

Deep in thought, a sudden creaking sound made Olivia jump out of her skin. She whipped around, but it was just Mrs. Harmon opening her kitchen door with a bag of trash in her hand. However, when Mrs. Harmon, equally surprised, saw Olivia standing there, she tried to slam her door closed.

Too late. Olivia saw what she was trying to hide. Simultaneously shocked and furious, she leapt across the five feet of laminate flooring separating them and pushed the door wide open, knocking the old woman unceremoniously into the doorjamb. She marched into the kitchen wildly pointing. “Mrs. Harmon!  That’s my Imari bowl on your table!”

Olivia handed a Paymoor’s shopping bag full of crime scene tape to Detective Richards in exchange for the box containing her Jimmy Choo shoes.

“Thank you for keeping these safe.”

Richards gave a little bow. “My pleasure. But you’d better check them before you sign on the dotted line. We did have to take them out of the box to compare them to the print found at the crime scene.”

Olivia broke in. “The REAL crime scene, I might add. Not my shop.”

Richards laughed. “Yes, the scene where Mr. Blackman was killed. By the way, I’m sorry we couldn’t get your arMOIRE back to in time for the sale. But Forensics is still working on it to make sure we get every bit of evidence we can to put these two away. We don’t want them getting off on technicalities.”

“That’s the only reason I’m not complaining. Between them they’ve committed four murders. That makes them mass murderers, right?”

Richards shook his head. “Technically no. Mass murderers kill many in a single event. Sandy Hook Elementary School, the Aurora movie theater massacres. While serial killers act on one victim at a time, usually for the thrill of the kill. Son of Sam and Ted Bundy. Our pair killed for expediency. Not sure what crime writers would call them.”

Olivia turned up her nose. “Murder as a business skill set? Gawd. Well I thought, when I get the armoire back, kudos to you, by the way for finally getting the name right, I’d have to do an exorcism before I’d be able to sell it. But would you believe I’ve had six offers from collectors of the macabre? One woman offered twice what I hoped I’d get at the sale. So it looks like I’ll have to have an auction for it.”

Richards shook his head. “People.”

“Well,” Olivia said, tucking her beloved JC’s back in the box and signing for them on Richards’ small pad, “we saw on the news last night that you have officially arrested the doctor and widow for murder.”

“We did. They will be charged later today when the judge arrives back from vacation. She cut it short so we don’t have to hold them over the weekend. The DA wants an arraignment today. She thinks they will try to plead it out. But that’s out of my hands. It was an easy case as these things go.”

Olivia burst out, “Are you kidding me? This has been the worst week of my life.”

Richards gave her a wry grin. “I don’t know what to say about that. I can only imagine.”

His smile calmed Olivia down. “Detective, one more question. Why was Mr. Blackman sent to me?”

“It’s complicated.” He gestured to the crush of people climbing over her lawn, down her driveway to the Garden Center in back and pushing in and out of the showroom through the porch door. “I think you have enough on your hands with your sale. We can go over all this another time at the station.”

Olivia had trouble focusing on Richards as Cody and Tuesday were constantly interrupting them with questions about prices and provenance. However, when Tuesday realized to whom Olivia was talking, she backed away and stayed away.

“Detective, I will end the sale now if necessary to get the answer to that question.”

Richards shook his head. “Well, okay. You won’t believe this. After the doctor spiked Blackman’s drink with the dried puffer fish toxin, he was the man Roger saw with him that night, he left thinking it would appear that he’d had a heart attack. . . you were right. The doctor got cheated out of a sweet options deal at that biotech company and blamed Blackman for it. Some kind of dirty dealing we haven’t figured out yet. So after he texted the widow that Blackman was dead, she came back for an act of revenge. She had seen Blackman with his partner steaming up the back seat of his car in Hugo’s parking lot when he was supposed to be at a meeting in San Francisco. She couldn’t let it go, even though she knew she was going to have all his drug proceeds to herself. Well, aside from sharing it with the doctor. Yeah, she knew about the drug smuggling. She knew about everything. She knew where he kept the key to his safe deposit box. He had taken his proceeds in diamonds. She wanted to teach Sabrina Chase a lesson and cast suspicion on her at the same time. It wasn’t a very well thought out plan. Late that night she went back to the shop and put her husband into the armoire. The door kept opening so she tied it shut. You’re right. She’s an expert sailor.”

Olivia saw Mrs. Harmon come w
alking down the driveway, smile and wave to her as Richards continued. Olivia waved back, then asked, “But where do I come it?  I still don’t get why she sent it to me.”

“Greta didn’t know the armoire was supposed to go to you.  Roger had taped a note for Cody on a pizza delivery flyer.
He wasn’t enjoying all of his faculties, if you get my meaning and was sloppy about using the correct delivery form.  That Greta would have noticed. But to her it just looked like a pizza delivery flyer or maybe she didn’t even see it. It was late, not much light.  Her label, with instructions to deliver it to Sabrina Chase apparently fell off during the night, or sometime before Cody picked arrived. Or maybe Cody knocked it off while he moved it and didn’t see it. At any rate, we found it on the floor. To us it was nothing. Sabrina Chase was an owner.  Her name was on everything. So you got it. Bureaucratic mix-up.”

Olivia’s mouth dropped. “I went through all that because a hophead couldn’t get his act together?”

Richards said, “Fraid so. If he had put the proper form on the chest in two places as Blackman’s required, this never would have involved you.”

“Detective, I need a moment to take this in.  Wait until I tell Tuesday and Cody.

Richards looked around to allow Olivia time to absorb the news. “You know, the doctor was furious when he saw on the news that Blackman ended up on your doorstep, so to speak. He rushed over to see if he could have him declared dead of a heart attack. He didn’t want anyone doing any exotic testing and find the puffer fish toxin in his tissue. Blackman never had a heart condition.  He made up a phony chart and put another patient’s EKG and lap tests in it. It was his idea for Greta to do the weeping widow act and blame you.”

Olivia flashed on the day she went to his office and lay on his examining table, half naked. She shuddered. “Detective can’t I bring a malpractice suit against him for treating me as his patient while setting me up for murder?”

Richards gave her a commiserating smile. “Up to you ma’am. Now we just have to figure out what happened to your bowl and other items.”

Olivia stammered. “Oh, detective. Forgive me. In all the confusion and the sale, well I forgot to notify you that they were in the house all the time after all.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Seriously? But we searched everywhere.”

“I know. So did I. But there they were all the time,” she crossed her fingers behind her back, “just under my feet.”

She was not going to involve Mrs. Harmon in any of this. The poor woman was desolate about losing her husband and then the Cooks who had befriended her. She wouldn’t allow herself to warm up to Olivia and then have her go out of business or something and move away. And then when Olivia told her she a customer of Blackman, who had cheated her husband and thereby, as she believed, contributing to his heart attack, she snapped. Her only revenge was to steal her things.

Olivia thought she had locked her out in the renovation. But Mrs. Harmon knew how to wiggle the door to get any lock to slide open. She grabbed only what she could carry. The pendulum was right. Olivia was standing on her treasures. So was Carrie. Her earrings had fallen out when she delivered cookies to Mrs. Harmon. The tenant found them in her living room, but didn’t know they were Carrie’s. The girl was so excited to get them back, she volunteered to help with the sale.

Just then, before Richards could quiz her any more, Olivia saw a familiar figure get out of a BMW 751 in a Prada workout suit she recognized from the Neiman’s catalog. It was Tasmania of the lush, cascading hair and sweeping eyelashes waving and rushing over to greet them. Olivia didn’t know what Richards’ girlfriend did for a living, but if she ever asked Olivia for career counseling, she’d tell her to apply to cable TV as a news anchor. Tasmania came up behind Richards and put her arms around his waist. He half turned, drew her close and kissed her forehead.

Olivia knew Richards was dropping off the shoes today. A good faith gesture considering what she had been through. But Tasmania? What was she doing here? Cody caught a look at Tasmania and hustled over to ask Olivia if there was anything she needed, all the while staring at the beauty. Olivia had no choice but to introduce them.

“Tasmania, this is my assistant, Cody White. Cody this is Miss Tasmania . . .I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten your last name.”

Both Richards and Tasmania gave her an odd look. “Why, Richards, of course. Same as Gurmeet’s.”

Olivia flushed. “Of course, I’m sorry. This is Detective Richards’ wife.”

Friggin frig. How could she not have figured out that he was married. Just her luck, though what was she thinking anyway. Both she and Tuesday agreed he was definitely not a MAD man.

Richards was shaking his head and for once, flashing Olivia a blinding smile. “No, not my wife. My sister.”

Olivia tallied up her proceeds while Tuesday started packing. She was taking a six am flight in the morning from SFO to Burbank to make her nine am Monday morning standing appointment with Holley Wood, star of Warner Bros. latest blockbuster about aliens taking over the body of a time-traveling princess. Tuesday had said when she told Olivia, “God’s truth. She showed me her birth certificate. I could slice her in ribbons. She got the name first. But she probably needs all the help she can get. She calls them alients.”

She zipped up the last of her cases. “Well, I guess that’s it. The only thing left is for you to tell me what’s up with the shoes.”

Olivia bent over into a downward dog, straightened up into warrior pose and said, “I’ve got to get back into yoga. I have so much tension in my back from all this. The shoes. You won’t believe this.”

She explained the tortured murder plan and Greta’s foiling what would have been a perfect crime out of jealousy.

”Over a man she conspired to murder.  That’s some serious crazy. Oh, don’t let me forget my herbs.”

Olivia said, ”Puleeze don’t forget them.” Then she went on to explain how they nailed the doctor when they found the sliced up puffer fish in his freezer and vials of toxin he had been able to extract.

Olivia did an
I don’t get it
eye rolling head shake. “Who even knows how to do that? Anyway, Richards told him that they could trace the DNA from the fish to the DNA in Blackman’s tissues. Richards pulled that one out of a hat, but it worked. Chandler bought it and caved and gave up Greta in the process. They’d been getting it on since Blackman cheated everyone out of the biotech deal. He was really just into Greta so he could figure out a way to get back at Blackman. She killed her husband for the diamonds. She wouldn’t share them with him but was willing to give half to Chandler because, get this: She believed he loved her.”

Now Tuesday did the eyerolling thing. “When will they learn?”

Olivia explained that Chandler moved to DV and set up a practice for the rich and richer to be closer to Blackman, keep an eye on him. Then the others showed up. The shirtmakers and Harmon. They weren’t just after Blackman. The doctor’s hands weren’t any too clean in the deal either and those three were after both Blackman and Chandler.

Olivia stretched out on the floor and threw her feet behind her head, then moved into a shoulder stand. She huffed and puffed as she spoke. “So he did his first experimenting with puffer fish, he really is an expert, on Harmon. ME said heart attack and he knew finally had a magic formula. He then slipped it to the shirt couple, apparently it’s not hard to smear it on something and it seeps into the skin. He really isn’t sure how they got into the lake. They should have just collapsed on the ground.” Which is what she did, rolling herself down and touching her heels to the rug again.

“Then when Greta told him she’d heard through the grapevine about the drugs and confronted her husband, I don’t know what grapevine she hangs on, but he admitted it, Chandler had his solution for Blackman. But hell hath no fury. If Greta had left well enough alone, they would have gotten away with it. Blackman told her about the drugs, the safe deposit box, the works. She probably was on him for losing so much money in the Silicon Valley deal. So she decided to have the diamonds to herself and then Chandler swept her off her feet with his bedside manner and they thought they had it made. But Roger got high and was complicit in unknowingly helping her send the body to an amateur sleuth.”

Olivia sat up and shrugged innocently. “That’s where I come in. Who knew?”

Tuesday sat on a case to zip it shut.

“How much do you have to pay for all that luggage?”

“What’s money for? So everybody’s happy, now, right? Richards has the killers, Cody has Jessica. How did he figure out Mrs. Harmon was BFFs with the wrong Blackman sister?”

“He asked her. Funny how communication works. The daughter I heard about was adopted. Once Jessica was born, she took center stage. Apparently, Brenda, the adopted one, wanted their father to make a business loan to her husband and he refused. The husband took a powder and she blamed it all on her father.  She found a willing listener in Mrs. Harmon. They knew each other fro when they all lived in Silicon Valley. So that’s it. Last thing. Richards and Mrs. Harmon are tight because she and her husband lived in Mumbai for a while and she befriended Tasmania.  Mrs. Harmon is like everybody’s favorite mother.  Could have fooled me.”

The two friends said goodnight and hugged goodbye, promised there would be no tears, hugged some more and raced each other for the box of tissues.

“Tuesday, I’d beg you to move up here with me but I know you would hate it.”

“And I’d beg you to come back to LA but I’ve looked deeply into Detective Richards’ eyes. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to tear you away from those brown beauties.”

Olivia pooh-poohed that idea. “Seriously, he’s not my type and I have a business to get off the ground and a car museum commission to snag.”

“Did you finally hear from George Clooney, er Mr. Bacon?”

“Yeah, he came to the sale. Figured it was the only way he could talk to me. I looked for you to introduce you but you must have been in the house. We have an appointment next week.”

“Now there’s an interesting proposition,” Tuesday said seductively.

“No, it’s not like that. He’s a widower still grieving for his wife.”

“And I know just the chickadee to cheer him up.”

“Honestly, Tuesday, if that came out of anybody else’s mouth I’d never speak to them again. Have you no respect? And you know how he got his money? He won the country’s two biggest Powerball lotteries, three years apart. Three hundred million and change in the first one and four hundred million and change in the second one. Before that he was a dispatcher on the Hoboken public transit. His wife died just before he won the first one. He can’t get over her.”

Tuesday shook her head. “What I have is a deep and abiding wish for my best friend’s happiness. Now give me one more hug and let me get some sleep. Promise me we’ll get together again before Christmas.”

Olivia crossed her heart. “Promise.”

Tuesday said, “Preferably so I can catch your bouquet.”

Olivia threw a pillow at her and then blew kisses all the way out of the room. “Travel well, Tuesday.”