Chapter 13
Henry gave Amit Anchula a ride home that night; he wanted to check some things with Wayne before giving him back his keys and full mobility. He told Anchula about his encounter with his neighbor and the large dog and was told that Lucky, the dog, probably would have licked him to death.
On Anchula’s recommendation Henry went to the Hilton Garden Inn on El Camino Real where they had plenty of rooms available. It was very late and he was tired when he threw his bag down on one of the beds and sat down on the other and called Wayne’s cell phone.
“Henry?” Wayne answered on the third ring.
“Yeah, couldn’t you tell it was me from your phone?”
“You must be in a different area code than earlier, I wasn’t sure.”
“I’m in a hotel in Mountain View; I need you to check on something for me.” Henry took off his shoes and lay down on the bed.
“How did it go with Anchula?” Wayne asked.
“Long story, but he was in the house the morning after Thornbird was killed.” Henry explained.
“So he didn’t do it? Are you sure?” Wayne sounded unsure.
“It’s easy enough to verify, but he says he flew down the afternoon of the day that Thornbird was murdered, but to be sure there is something that I need you to look at for me.” Henry reached for the television remote on the nightstand; he could watch the late news before going to sleep.
“Ok, shoot. What do you need?” Wayne asked. “Anchula claims that the front door was open when he got there, Thornbird was dead in a pool of blood and when he saw the body he spooked and as he ran out he kicked the door on the way and it slammed shut. Can you have someone go out to the house and look for scuff marks or something on the door to corroborate his story?” Henry surfed through the channels on the television while talking with Wayne.
“You know what, I’ll go out personally and have a look around to see what I can find.” Wayne sounded tired as well. “I can call you back at this number in the morning. Anything else?”
“No, just let me know what you find. Talk to you in the morning.” Henry hung up the phone and lay back on the bed. He should call Rosie and ask her about Saturday, where did he put her phone number?
He awoke in the same position as the daylight was trying to come in through the blackout curtains, and some way too cheerful young woman was talking about the local traffic on the television. He didn’t mean to fall asleep in his clothes; he was just tired after a long day. He was in the shower when the phone rang.
Fortunately the Hilton had the foresight to install a phone in the bathroom. Henry picked it up with one of the big fluffy towels wrapped around him so that he didn’t drip all over the bathroom floor.
“Wayne?”
“Yeah, how’d you know it was me, do you have caller id in the hotel?” Wayne’s voice was cheerful on the other end. “No there’s no caller id at the hotel but you’re the only one that knows I’m here.” Henry started drying off his head.
“Well, I’m calling you from the house on Granvia Valmonte where Thornbird was murdered. The front door has one of those springy doorstop things on it to keep the door from banging into the wall. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“What time is it anyway?” Henry asked.
“It’s almost nine; anyway, there is a large dimple in the wall where the door stop hit it kind of hard. It was definitely made after the place was painted.” Wayne explained,
“The paint is flexed inward, so it was still soft when it happened.”
“So Anchula was right. That means the real killer left the front door open Wayne.” Henry reached for his shaving gear in his toilet bag.
“That’s right.” Wayne said, “But the key to the house was in the lock box, so did the killer put it there, or did Thornbird put it back before going in?”
“I don’t know. Will finding that out lead us to the killer?” Henry asked.
“True, I’m not sure it is relevant.” Wayne was thinking on the other end of the phone line. “Are you done there, are you coming home?”
“Yeah, I have to go pick up Anchula and give him his keys and give him a ride back to his car. Then I’ll head back out to the airport.” Henry couldn’t find his shaving cream in his toilet bag; did he forget to pack it?
“There must be a story behind why you need to do that. You’ll have to tell me tonight – you are still coming over to the house for dinner aren’t you?”
“Oh yeah, I’ll be there.” Henry had completely forgotten about the invitation from Wayne’s wife Elliot.
“Ok, have a safe flight, I’ll see you tonight.” Wayne hung up the phone.
“Ok, until tonight.” Henry found the tube of shaving cream; it was at the bottom of his kit, under the deodorant and bottle of ibuprofen.
He finished shaving and started getting dressed when he called Rosie’s office. He was surprised when Tiffany didn’t answer the phone but Rosie picked up directly.
“Good morning Rosie, it’s Henry, I’m happy to be talking directly to you.”
“Hello Henry, either we have a bad connection or you sound like you’re not in town. Tiffany is not in yet, I’m the first one here in the office.” He hadn’t realized how much he missed her voice until he heard her.
“I’m up north by San Francisco, talking to a suspect in the Thornbird murder. I’ll be back tonight, I wonder if you’d like to have dinner with me on Saturday.” Henry took the handcuffs out of his pocket and tossed them into the bag, he didn’t think he’d need those again.
“Oh, sure, where would you like to meet? Did you find the guy that did it?” Rosie sounded surprised.
“How about you come to my house, let’s say four o’clock, I’ll give you the address. No, I didn’t find the guy that did it, just another dead end.” Henry buckled his belt and reached into his bag for his clean shirt.
“Four o’clock is perfect; I have a weight training class at the gym at one. You’re on Mel Avenue, right?” Rosie asked.
“Yes, how did you know?” Henry pulled his shirt over his head.
“Henry, I’m in the real estate business, your house has a two car garage, four bedrooms, a swimming pool with a cabana, and you bought it two years ago from Eric Wilson…”
“Ok, ok, you’re in the real estate business, I guess you know where people live.” Henry was laughing.
“Well, only people that I’m interested in.” Rosie answered. “By the way, I thought of something last night that might help you. A couple of weeks ago, there was an older woman, a widow I believe, who called the office for Rex, she bought a house from him about a year ago and is now looking at a house for her sister who was moving to Palm Springs. I don’t remember her name offhand but I’m sure it is in the list of previous sales I gave you, you might want to talk with her.”
“Thanks Rosie, you’ve been very helpful with all this, I really appreciate it.” Henry said.
“I’m happy to help Henry; can I bring anything on Saturday?” Rosie’s voice sounded wistful on the phone.
“Just make sure you have your appetite.” Henry answered cheerfully,
“See you at four!” “I’m looking forward to it. See you then Henry.” He liked the way her voice sounded and he slowly hung up the phone.
He finished getting dressed, packed his bag, checked out of the hotel and made his way over to Anchula’s house without having to refer back to his map. When he pulled up in the driveway, Anchula’s neighbor Bob Thomas was walking Lucky the dog. Bob waved to Henry as he got out of the car and went to the front door.
The big man opened the door with a smile and invited him in.
“Come in “Uncle” Henry!” Anchula yelled, waving at Bob Thomas and his dog.
“Here are your keys.” Henry held out his hand with the keys to the house and Mercedes. “Your story checks out.” “That’s just cool dude, I knew it would. I told you, I wouldn’t kill the bastard, I kind of admire the amazing little scam he had going.” Anchula took the keys and dropped the
m into his pocket. “You were right man, I talked to an immigration attorney this morning and they think that within six months I’ll be legit! What a relief!”
“It’s amazing what ten or so million dollars in a bank account can do with the government.” Henry smiled.
Henry gave Anchula a ride to his office and asked if he could come in to use the phone. He wanted to call the airline to see if there was an earlier flight and also to ask Charles if he could pick him up.
“Man, what is wrong with your cell phone?” Anchula asked.
“Actually, I don’t have one, though I think this trip might convince me to get one.” Henry shrugged his shoulders. “Well shit man, come on in. If you want, I’ll have the receptionist help you out, or we can get you into a conference room and you can make all the calls you want.”
“The conference room and a phone are fine for me.” Henry said turning off the engine.
Anchula jumped out of the car and Henry followed him into the building. A girl, who could have been Tiffany’s twin sister in Palm Springs, was now sitting at the reception desk in the lobby; she waved at Anchula as he walked in. Anchula directed Henry into a small conference room and pointed him to the phone.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes Henry, if you need me before then, let Wendy out front know.” Anchula waved in the general direction of the receptionist desk and walked off into the maze of cubicles.
Henry called Alaska Airlines and after waiting on the phone for a long time, they told him that the next flight to Palm Springs was the one he was already on. Then he called his house and had to leave a message since Charles wasn’t home. He got up and went looking for Anchula and unlike last night, he found his cube without a problem. Anchula was looking intently at a computer screen and didn’t notice Henry walk up.
“I’m going to take off now, I’m sorry about tackling you last night and embarrassing you in front of your colleagues.” Henry held out his hand.
“Hey forget about it, you have helped me out so much; I really want to thank you. If the attorney is right - think about it in six months, I’ll be able to go home, visit my family and come back into the U.S. like a real person.” Anchula shook Henry’s hand enthusiastically. “If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
“You letting me use the phone was a big favor, thanks a lot.” Henry said. “Next time you’re in Palm Springs, give me a call. I’m curious how your remodel will turn out.”
“Sure as shit, have a safe flight, can you find your way out?” Anchula started turning back to his computer screen. “Yep, I’m getting good at negotiating cube mazes, right at the alligator and left at the Christmas lights.” Henry laughed; by the time he turned around to walk out Anchula was busy typing away on his computer.
Henry had a couple of hours to kill so he started driving around the neighborhood. He thought it was pretty cool that he was in the middle of Silicon Valley where so much technology history was made. He drove past the old Netscape buildings in Mountain View, and tried to find the garage on Addison in Palo Alto where Hewlett-Packard was started but couldn’t. As a computer user he was intrigued by the companies in the buildings he drove past, some names he recognized, most he did not. After an hour and a half of looking around he realized that he’d better quit playing tourist and get back to the San Francisco International Airport, he didn’t want to miss the flight.
Henry got back on the freeway, drove north and returned his car to the rental car center. At the Alaska Airlines security checkpoint he did have to go through the more intensive security process, apparently the San Francisco security people were not impressed with his “Deputy” status. He had a few extra minutes, so he bought a newspaper and sat down in the gate area to read. He couldn’t concentrate on the newspaper; he kept trying to think of who would have wanted to kill Thornbird.
Even Anchula admitted being upset with Thornbird at having been cheated with the Bette Davis house, but told him that it wasn’t worth murder. Actually all of Thornbird’s former customers didn’t seem to mind paying a few extra bucks to get their dream home in Palm Springs. The Millers were happy, their hotel was prosperous. Mr. and Mrs. Wadowicz suspected what Thornbird was up to and didn’t mind compensating him for the time he spent with them. It hadn’t been to Anchula. What did drive someone to kill another person Henry wondered?
He’d interviewed several killers in his career, and he was shocked at the pettiness of their reasons for resorting to murder. Maybe that was the problem; he was looking for people who he felt had real reason to want Thornbird dead. He needed to open his mind, broaden his horizon, think outside the box, whatever you wanted to call it, he decided to do a little more basic research when he got home, maybe that would lead him to the killer.
His flight landed in Palm Springs exactly as scheduled. By the time he got out of the terminal, he was carrying his jacket and his housemate Charles was waiting at the curb.
“Heeey, stranger. Good to see you. Did you get cold while you were up there? Hey, it looks like you played on the grass.” Charles greeted Henry as he opened the door to Charles’ SUV. Henry looked down at his knees, indeed his pants had grass stains from his encounter with Anchula and the lawn he hadn’t even noticed them until now.
“I had to convince someone to talk with me.” Henry explained, “It was probably thirty degrees colder up there than here. Mind you, it’s nothing like Wisconsin this time of year, but it is amazing the difference.”
“That’s why we live here.” Charles laughed as he pulled the Explorer away from the curb and towards home.
“So, you’ve hit another dead end?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, how did you know?” Henry futilely tried to wipe the stains off his pants.
“My friend, you’re making this too hard on yourself.” Charles said, “Something tells me it’s a lot more basic than what you’re chasing.”
“Yeah, I hear you. But I just don’t know where to look.”
“Maybe because you’re not seeing what you should.” Charles replied.
“You’re mysterious today Charles.” Henry said, “But I was thinking along the same lines while I was waiting for my flight. I think I’m going to go talk with Jerrie to see what he knows.”
“I still think Thornbird was gay, maybe you should check out that angle.” Charles pulled the car into the driveway on Mel Avenue.
“Perhaps, except that I wouldn’t know where to start.” Henry said getting out of the car. He still wasn’t sure what to tell Charles about his discovery at Thornbird’s house.
“Hmmm, maybe I can help.” Charles turned off the car and followed Henry inside.
“Let me know what you find out.” Henry decided that he would let Charles do some checking. Depending on what he found, then he would tell him about Thornbird’s illegal activities.
After he showered again and changed into clean clothes, Henry drove to the Pac and Ship on Sunrise Way. He didn’t need to ship or copy anything; Jerrie Mungo who manages the place is a bit of an information broker. Some places would have called Jerrie a snitch, or a stoolie; he wasn’t any of those in Henry’s mind. It seemed as though at some point everyone in Palm Springs came through Jerrie’s store. As a result, Jerrie knew more about what was going on, who was doing what and who was involved with whom than anyone else.
“Hi Jerrie, can I buy you a cup?” said Henry as he walked into the store.
“Henry, you old copper, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. Of course you can buy me a cup.” Jerrie came from behind the counter of the store. “Tess, can you keep an eye on things for a few minutes?” Jerrie asked his wife who was in the back section of the store wrapping up a box with brown paper. She waved at Henry and nodded at Jerrie.
They walked out of the Pac and Ship together and around the corner to Jensen’s. The large supermarket had a full deli as well as a coffee stand. Henry and Jerrie walked in and Jerrie ordered a double latte and Henry had a cappuccino. While they were waiting fo
r their coffees, they sat at one of the small picnic tables the store had set out for their customers.
“So you must be helping Palm Springs PD again.” Jerrie started, “I’ll bet it is the murder suicide in Cathedral City – am I right?” Henry wasn’t sure how much to tell Jerrie; he knew that whatever he learned from Jerrie, Jerrie would also learn from him.
“No, I’ve heard of it, but no one has asked me about it. I’m looking into the murder of Rex Thornbird, the real estate agent.”
“Ah yes, the mid-century specialist, the seller of architectural gems, the purveyor of celebrity homes, the man whose smiling face lit up this area of Palm Springs. I heard about his death. Did an unsatisfied customer finally get the better of him?” Jerrie smiled.
Henry got up to get their drinks which were ready at the little coffee stand. He brought the coffees back to their table and set one down in front of Jerrie.
“You know, that’s what I thought when I got started, but the more of his former customers I speak with, the less I think that one of them did it.”
“That’s surprising. You know, the rumor is that not every home he sold was owned by a celebrity or designed by a famous architect.” Jerrie said taking the cover off his latte. “Sometimes I think he was a little liberal with claiming who lived some place. In fact, he bought stuff, probably online, he had a box here and we received a number of packages for him. I think what he bought were photographs for these homes. Some of the packages he received were flat and marked “Do Not Bend. He also belonged to a video club of some kind, a lot of plain brown envelopes; do you know what I mean?”
Henry licked some of the foam off his cappuccino, “When was the last time that you received a package for Thornbird?”
“Probably about a month ago now, I guess. Things have been pretty quiet for quite some time. He hasn’t been here since he picked it up. ’Course he’s not coming back either.” Jerrie smiled a wry smile.
“No, I suppose he isn’t.” Henry smiled as well.
“You know, all joking aside, Thornbird worked really hard, especially after that nasty divorce of his, he sold a lot of homes, probably made a lot of money, and I’m not sure that he really hurt anyone.” Jerrie looked down into his coffee cup, “I sort of admired the guy.”
You wouldn’t if you knew what I know, thought Henry, and his nasty habit hurt plenty of people.
“What about that divorce, I’ve heard before that it was messy. Do you know anything about it?”
“You know, there was a rumor that Mrs. Thornbird felt that she wasn’t getting the attention she deserved from Mr. Thornbird. That’s why she went after him with a vengeance during the divorce.” Jerrie gave Henry a knowing smile.
Henry furrowed his brow, “I’m not sure I follow you.”
“Well, let’s just say that Thornbird spent a lot of time at his job, time with his co-workers and time with his male friends.”
“Ok, so you’re saying he was interested in men and his wife was jealous?” Henry asked.
“Well, I think that his marriage was a sham, I don’t know that he was gay exactly, but he didn’t have any time for Mrs. Thornbird other than at public functions where he needed an escort.” Jerrie finished his latte. “I better get back to the store; I’m going to get a latte for Tess.”
“Well thanks; you’ve given me something to look into.” Henry got up as well.
Jerrie was back at the coffee stand already, “You know you might want to talk with that cute petite middle aged woman with the nice legs he used to run around with a lot, I think they worked in the same office together.”
“The one with the reddish hair?” Henry asked?
“Yes, that’s the one. She should be able to tell you volumes on Thornbird. She seems like she would be pleasant company as well. Don’t wait so long before stopping by again.” Jerrie waved at him as Henry walked out the door. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I had a talk with her.” Henry said more to himself than to Jerrie Mungo.