The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 (41 page)

“It’s your fault.  I told you the halter was too much. 
Anyway, smile, here he comes.”  I got up, and the three of us walked out of the
restaurant.  Brian tossed the valet his number, and he said his goodbyes as his
black Mercedes was pulled up.  Harry took care to tip the valet for both our
cars and stood there quietly until Brian drove off.

“Jerk.”

“Hey, look at it this way.  You got to meet an occultist.  Though
I would say gigolo would be more his profession.  The occult would be a hobby,”
I said, mocking Brian.

Harry listed, “He was in Central America.  He smuggled in
seeds.  He had no love for Cheryl. I’d say he had the means, but the motive?”

“I know, the motive.  He doesn’t seem too concerned about
the band.  He didn’t even speculate whether or not we would be ready for the
next concert.  Or he could be playing his cards close to his chest.”

“How’d he know that was your house?  Just the picture
appeared in the paper, and there was no mention of who owned the house.”

“I don’t know.  I’m the only person from the village that
plays in the band, but how would Dorothy connect A and B?” I questioned.

My car arrived, and Harry popped the trunk and threw me my
pumps and waited for the heels.  I leaned on the car, slipped off the heels and
put on the more sensible shoes.  “One down, one to go,” I said, getting into
the car.

Harry started the engine, and we flew down the coast to our
next appointment.

We were too early for our appointment with Billy Sands, so
Harry pulled into a small park overlooking the Palm Beach airport runways.  He
put the top down, and we took advantage of the afternoon breeze and sun.  I
took off the linen jacket and let my skin breathe. 

“Feel better?” Harry asked as he ran his fingers through his
hair to loosen the hold the mousse had on his curls.  “I’m glad that’s over
with.  How can people do the lunch thing?  Polite conversation, innuendos
flying faster than that jet.  Whoa, did you see that take off and turn?”

“Yes, nice plane.”  It was hard to feign an interest in
planes.  Being married to Luke had brought me exposure to the best aircraft out
there.  But his desertion of his family for a rich broad he met whilst
corporate-piloting left a bad taste in my mouth.  It killed any enthusiasm I
would have for watching jets take off and land.  I reached down and grabbed the
notebook.  “Mind if I read some of your notes?”

Harry had it in his hands before I had his answer.  “No! 
Wait till we have Billy’s interview.  Man.  So how are we going to play this
one?”

“I thought you had everything worked out.”  I looked over at
him.

He looked over at me.  “You need more lipstick.”

I leaned over and looked in the rear view mirror.  “Damn, I
hate makeup.”

“I thought your generation grew up on fashion mags?”

“Not everyone crawled out of a shallow pond.”  I opened my
purse and tried to figure out which cylinder contained the lipstick.  “I was
red-haired and freckled.  Makeup just seemed to look like graffiti on me.  This
doesn’t look bad, but I can’t seem to find, oh, there it is!”  I held up the
tube with jubilation. 

I put on my lipstick and took my time gazing in the mirror.  “I
wonder if I should keep this facade up. I bet it’s expensive.”

“We’re just playing a role here.  I wouldn’t want you to
look like this at home.  It would be too disturbing.”  Harry shuddered and
changed the subject, “Billy Sands plays what instrument?”

“He is now the first chair alto saxophone.  A young guy
about twenty-five, I think? He went to Lake Worth High School, and I understand
he was awarded a musical scholarship but never attended college.  He plays in
several local jazz groups and works full time at the Botanical Gardens.”

“I think we’ll let him give us a tour to check out if they
have oleander there, and then we need to ask what kinds of weed killers he
uses.”

“So it’s arsenic we’re looking for?  I read that it used to
be used in insecticides, rodenticides and pesticides, according to the
Internet.  I’m betting they have it somewhere there.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”  He looked at his watch. 
“Better get going.”  Harry put the top up and carefully backed out of the
park.  I looked at him oddly, and he nodded to the right where two traffic
motorcycles stood ready to ticket us.  Harry drove off like an old man going to
church, very slow and with all the time in the world.

~

Harry turned into the parking area of the Gardens and
whistled, “It’s a Small World,” as we passed Doctor Sanders getting into his Lexus.

“Wonder what he’s doing here?” I said as Harry passed him
and parked the car closer to the gate.

“Arsenic,” Harry said, getting out of the car.  He came
around and opened my door, lifted some errant crumb off my pant leg and
escorted me to the entrance.

“Could be a co-inky dink,” I answered, not really believing
it.  “Or maybe he and Billy...”

“Hold that thought, here is the boy of the hour now.”

Billy Sands was waiting for us at the front gate.  He
remembered Harry from the theater and was real excited about the interview. 
Billy’s spiky brown hair, green eyes, pirate earring and tan body seemed out of
place garbed in his tan work clothes, hat on backwards and work boots.  He gave
the impression of a rock musician masquerading as a gardener. 

Fortunately for the Gardens, Billy knew his stuff.  He gave
us an overview on the history of the place, taught us the difference between
perennials and annuals.  I never could keep them straight.  He explained what
exotics were.

“Basically, exotic is a term we use for a plant of foreign
origin, a plant not indigenous to Florida.  Are you aware of what happens when
designers bring in these foreign plants and plant them in here?  And then there
are the invasive exotics.  They ruin the ecosystem because they have no natural
predators.  I know you’ve heard about how Kudzu is destroying much of the
southeast coast.  Well, there is a tree in south Florida called Melaleuca. 
Melaleuca is a tree that can grow in terrestrial and aquatic habitats.  It was
introduced into Florida from Australia.  Having no natural "biological
controls" in Florida, this tree is literally filling in the Everglades,
having taken over hundreds of thousands of acres so far.”  Billy waited for our
question.

“What are we doing about this?” Harry supplied.

“The first bio-control insects against Melaleuca in Florida
were put to work in 1997, when Melaleuca snout beetles, Oxyops vitiosa, were
released from quarantine into the Everglades by the USDA, University of
Florida, and Army Corps of Engineers researchers.  There is some success, but
it’s too soon to tell if we, excuse the pun, are out of the woods.”

Billy listed many other exotics.  Harry had him spell out
the gnarly ones.

“I had some idiot dump a truck full of oleander on my front
lawn Tuesday.”  I baited my hook.

“That’s an exotic that you see everywhere, pink, red and
white flowers.  Sometimes we get called out to a house to identify plants.  When
I see that bugger I recommend that the homeowner pull it out.  Especially if
they have children.”

“Why?”

“It’s very poisonous.  I don’t know if it was a story or a
true-life thing, but I heard that some scout troop cut branches of oleander and
roasted hot dogs or marshmallows on them.  Those kids were very sick, very
sick.”  Billy adjusted his hat.  “How’d you get rid of it?”

“Solid Waste Authority came in.  I heard you couldn’t burn
it.”

“Find out who did it?”

“No.”

“If you find out, give us a buzz.  We too had some vandalism
last night.  I wonder if they’re related?”

“What happened?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

We followed Billy across the yard to a shady area.  He
pointed to a trampled patch of ground.

“What was here?” Harry asked.

“Datura stramonium, Jimsonweed or Devil’s Trumpet.”

“That’s nasty stuff.  I read up on that recently.  Why would
anyone want it?” I led.

“I don’t know.  It had just flowered.  We had used it in a
poison plant class, along with a couple of others.  I worry that some idiot
will make a tea of it looking for a high and instead end up dead.”

“My neighbor has some growing in his front yard.  It has a
rather unpleasant odor, nice purple flowers though.”

“Stinkweed is another name I’ve heard used and for good
reason.  My advice is to stay away from that baby.  Every part of the plant is
toxic.”

“Billy, do you ever come across any Strychnos toxifera?” 
Harry more than baited his hook, he jammed the barbs into Billy.

“Strychnos... what?”

“Toxifera.  It’s a vine,” Harry explained.

“You’re not thinking of that stuff they found growing at
that old drug manufacturer’s site.  Ah, let me think.”

“Curare?” Harry supplied.

“That’s it.  Remember those old Tarzan movies?  Well the
natives had poisoned darts.  But Mr. Benjamin, my supervisor, told me it
doesn’t even grow in Africa.  Hollywood.”  He shook his head.

“So they found it growing in Florida?”  I asked, appalled.

“Oh, don’t worry, it isn’t running amuck.  They must have
been experimenting with the seeds, and when they were pulled out, the seeds
weren’t discarded properly.” Billy was quiet for a while. He looked at Harry
suspiciously.  “How’d you find out about it?”

“School,” Harry answered simply.  I guess a simple answer is
best because it looked like Billy bought it.

Our tour continued, and I barely felt like I was in the city
anymore.  The occasional airplane overhead was the only sound that penetrated
the garden.

I stopped in front of an immaculate bed of orange flowers
and asked, “You must be working your fingers to the bone keeping the weeds
down.  I no sooner finish weeding at my flower beds when I have to start again
at the beginning.”

“It used to be easier when it was okay to use chemicals. 
But we handle the problem a bit differently now.  When we plant a new section,
we underlay it with heavy tarp and poke holes in it to insert the plant and
then put soil over it and finish off with cedar mulch.”

“I remember my father used to go around the tomato plants
and sprinkle this white stuff.”

“Arsenic,” Billy said.  “It doesn’t keep weeds down, just
pests”

“Really?”

“Sounds like it.  He probably wore a mask or a kerchief
around his nose and mouth.”

“Yes, he did.  So that was arsenic?”

“Yes, it was commonly used.  Fortunately, it isn’t used
now.”

“Did you use it around here?” I asked.

“Not me.  That was way before my time, but I think there’s
some still in the back shed.  Must be hard to get rid of because I think it
would have been disposed of before now.  Anyway, it isn’t my problem.  Let me
show you the ornamental hedge maze we just started.”  Billy continued our tour.

My cell phone rang, and I excused myself and walked away as Billy
was explaining when you should prune to a very bored Harry.

“Hello?”

“Cin?”  It was Tony.

“Yes?” I answered, feeling guilty.

“You sound funny.”

“I’m outside looking at plants.”  Damn, why did I say that?

“Good day for it.  Why I called is I have interviewed Doctor
Sanders, and there are a few things, musical things, that I don’t understand. 
Buslowski said I should run them by you.  He recommended sharing information.”

“Do I detect a note of sarcasm?”

“Oh, not just a note.”

“Funny you should say Doctor Sanders, when was the
interview?”

“This morning. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Harry and I just passed him on the road.”

“I did talk to him,” Tony said acidly.  “I thought we could
do an Agatha Christie and bring the amateur in on the info.  And you can tell me
how your day was, dear.”

There was that acid tone again.  I chose to be silent.

“I also want to bring together Dave and the profiler to
brainstorm.  What I’m offering you is a seat at our table.”

“Make it two seats.  I have to bring Harry.”

“Why Harry?”

“Because my son Alex says so.  Harry is my bodyguard till
Alex’s term ends.”

Tony blew air out of his nose.  “Fine bring Harry.  We will
be meeting at the theater at seven tonight.”

“Why the theater, why not your office?” I asked, puzzled.

“The profiler and Dave haven’t been there yet.  I want to
run Carl’s death and the near poisoning of Manfred and Tobias by them.”

“Is Miles going to be there?”

“Yes.  Don’t worry, so are ten or so technicians, policemen
and a policewoman.”

“How PC of you,” I said dryly.

“I thought you would feel more comfortable with another
woman around.”

I thought a moment.  “Because?”

“Don’t you need a pack of women to go to the john with?”

“Cute, very cute.  We’ll be there.  Don’t worry about
leaving the door open.”

“Why?”

“Harry still has Miles’s keys.”  I wanted to add “duh” but
Tony sounded like he was having a bad day at that.  I said goodbye and rejoined
Billy and Harry who, may I add, looked rather sheepish.

“Anything important?” Harry asked.

“I have a dinner to go to, Harry.  I need to get home and
change.  Billy, this is going to make a great article.  I will give you a call
if they’re going to need pictures.”

“No problem, Cindy.”

Billy showed us out and waited until Harry and I drove off
to return to his garden duties.  Harry was very quiet.  “What?” I asked. 

“Later.  First, what kind of dinner do you have?”

“I just said that to get out of there.  We have been invited
to brainstorm with Tony, Dave and the infamous profiler at the theater this
evening at seven.  I think we should eat something before we go.  It could be
another long night.”

“Good idea but let’s get take out.  You and I have to go
over Billy’s interview.”

“You are correct as always.  I didn’t get to ask him much
about band though,” I said as I pulled the scarf off my hair.