Sherlock and Me (The Case of the Starry Night)

  “Oh no!”

  “Oh yes! But I took a few deep, calming breaths and sucked it up. I knew you couldn’t do it without me.”

  “Wow! That’s like a breakthrough or something.”

  “… Or something,” She looked away for a minute and then back at me.

  “It’s an interesting thing to do…”

  “What is?”

  “To be the only sober person at a large party.” She settled back onto the couch and put Baskerville on her lap. She stroked his little head and his eyes sleepily closed.

  “Was Sandstrom drunk?”

  “…On his way… He kept pouring me drinks – champagne – and I kept pouring them out in all the plants and flowers in the various rooms.”

  “He tried to get you drunk?”

  “Oh, yeah. Big time.”

  “What else happened?”

  “You know, Lucy,” she glanced over at me, “I’ve been to lots of parties in my life but this one was a real doozy.”

  “Why?”

  “Not only were people drunk, but they were dropping food everywhere, breaking things – the house was a disaster…Did you see that security guard? He had an awful time with the guests.”

  “Oh, yeah. He and I got to be buddies.”

  “Huh?”

  “You finish your story first.”

  “Anyway, I was trying to escape Warren and find a place to text you from, but it was impossible. I sent him off time after time for more champagne and then I’d duck into a hallway or bedroom to try to send a text.”

  “…And?”

  “People -- slick, rich people -- were everywhere in various stages of kissing and groping. It certainly wasn’t what I expected…”

  I blinked. “Really? Is Sandstrom a swinger?”

  She shook her head. “I really don’t know and I don’t plan to find out, but it was crazy. I would have thought with his status and money, his party would have been refined and tasteful. Nope…” She patted Baskerville. “I finally dodged people and went up to the second floor to find a bathroom that wasn’t occupied. That’s when I found the office and sent you the text.”

  “Sandstrom was, no doubt, trying to seduce you too.”

  She gave me a look. “…He’s way past seduction and he tried once to drag me off into a bedroom.”

  “Would he have behaved like that if he hadn’t been almost drunk?”

  “Yes, but that’s how I got his keys.”

  “Keys to what?”

  “I figured he’d lock the office, so I plunged a hand into his pants pocket and snagged them.”

  I about swallowed my tongue. “What did Sandstrom do?”

  “Got excited of course. He thought I was trying to feel him up.”

  “… Then what?”

  She shrugged, smoothing the dog’s fur. “So I kept up that routine for a while, having him get me drinks, pouring them out in the plants, dodging his advances and hoping like hell I could leave soon. I was in the living room, not so politely pushing some drunk away from me when the doorbell rang. Somebody opened the door and there was Mr. Warner standing on the doorstep.”

  “Yeah, I called him.”

  “Well, his eyes were enormous when he glanced in at some inappropriate behavior in front of him. Warren yelled for his security guy and when he finally got there, they talked to Warner together. But not for long.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “Just a few minutes and then the security man flew out of the room and took off running.”

  I nodded. “…That would have been for me.”

  She rolled her shoulders and stifled a yawn. “I’m exhausted. Your turn.”

  I filled her in on my part of this sordid saga. Avoiding the security guy, going up the ladder, overhearing Tiffany’s romantic trysts…

  “I know her – Tiffany March,” Cindy smiled. “She’s married to that real estate guy, Rex March. His family has more money than Sandstrom’s.”

  “Interesting that she’s making it with other men then.”

  “… Not so interesting… I dated Rex once long ago and he was only looking for sex anyway. He found his match in Tiffany because she was well-known even then to be a player.”

  I twirled my empty glass. “…It would be unique at this point to meet a decent, rich person. I hope there are some.”

  “Copy that. And then what happened?”

  “I got stuck in that room, called Warner to help get me out and then the security guy chased me all the way back to my car. I didn’t think I’d escape in one piece, Cindy. It was pretty touch and go.” I looked across the room and blew out a breath. “…And there… was a… spider.”

  “A spider? Where?”

  “On the window ledge. That’s how the security guard saw me. I flicked the spider away and my hand hit the window.”

  Cindy shook her head, small smile on her face. “We’re quite a pair…”

  “Got that right.”

  We sat watching Baskerville snoring on Cindy’s lap for a minute.

  “Well, was it all worth it?”

  I smiled and set my glass on the coffee table. Cindy narrowed her eyes at me until I reached into my pocket, pulled out the phone and found the photos.

  “Here. Look.”

  Still squinting at me, she took the phone and glanced at the different shots. She thoughtfully read the card through. Then she read it through again and looked over at me.

  “… Sue?”

  “I think so.”

  “She’s blackmailing him…”

  “It would appear so.”

  She scratched her chin. “…It seems pretty damning for Sandstrom. He must be behind this.”

  “It sure looks like it.”

  “…You sound doubtful.”

  “I still need more data to make those bricks.”

  “What are you planning to do?”

  I leaned back on the couch and looked at Baskerville. He woke up, barked at me, jumped down and ran into the kitchen. I got up and followed him, thinking over what she’d asked. After getting down a doggy treat for Baskerville, I opened the refrigerator and there it sat – the package of pastrami I’d bought to give him for snacks.

  I reached in and pulled it out. Holding it up for Cindy to see, I replied, “Pastrami!”

  Cindy joined me in the kitchen. “… And that’s supposed to make sense?”

  I walked around the kitchen swinging the package of pastrami. Baskerville began jumping up as I walked, trying to get the package out of my hand. Abruptly, I stopped and looked at her.

  “The exhibition is scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow. They’ll be breaking it all down tomorrow night.”

  “…So?”

  “Pastrami…Laurel and Hardy…Eric…Sue…It all comes to a screeching halt tomorrow night.”

  “…And you’re going to…”

  “That’s right.”

  “Lucy, you had one close call tonight. You really want to go back into the lion’s den tomorrow?”

  “It’s the end of the trail, Cindy. I can feel it in my gut.”

  “You need to get that gut looked at…”

  I felt pretty good. “But in the meantime…”

  She sighed wearily. “…We go back to the art museum.”

  “Where it all started and where it all will end.” I looked at her sharply. “You game?”

  “You know, I think it’s worth troubling about, Holmes…”

  “Why is that, Dr. Watson?”

  “…Because it’s inexplicable.”

  I shook my head. “…Not for much longer…”

  * * *

  CHAPTER 25

  I was way past fidgety at work the next day. Kevin couldn’t keep up with me when I hurried from one task to another. I got the office cleaned up and the old movie displays ready for the UPS guy to pick up and send back to the distribution companies. Kevin was amazed when I handed him the accounting audit that had been lost for a week --I uncovered it when I cl
eaned out the desk.

  No one talked about Bobby, which was good, because I didn’t have a great cover story lined up about him. But I would have thought of something, had anyone asked. Megan and I got the concession counter organized in tip-top shape and the new popcorn popper was working well at maximum speed. I smiled at her and we were getting along pretty well.

  We had two new guys now, since Bobby was out, who seemed to be doing credible jobs at selling and collecting tickets. I even ran across Marvin once or twice since I was in and out of the projection rooms more times than I could count. He didn’t seem as sleepy as usual and I managed a quick wave at him.

  After lunch, it occurred to me that I hadn’t heard from Eric and was wondering if he’d found the owners of the work boots from his video. Somehow I sort of doubted it, but didn’t think it would soon matter much anyway. I could feel the puzzle closing in on me. My peripheral vision was almost decreasing because of the feeling…

  It was amazing, yet not, that Sue hadn’t been calling me for that long-overdue progress report. She’d also seemed pretty nervous the last time we saw one another. But there was no way that I was going to talk to her now… Not until I had followed all the threads to the end of the trail.

  When I got home, I took Baskerville out for a walk and met Mrs. Murphy coming the opposite way with Hamlet. She didn’t seem as happy as usual and I hoped it wasn’t my fault.

  “Hey, Mrs. Murphy… How’s it going?”

  She still didn’t smile. “…Um. Hi, Lucy.”

  “…Something the matter?”

  She looked down at Baskerville who was sniffing a quivering Hamlet.

  “…I…I… was hoping that…”

  “…Hoping what?”

  “That you and Cindy weren’t mad at me.”

  I blinked in surprise. “Why would we be mad at you?”

  “Because I didn’t call the police when those guys broke into your apartment. I’ve been feeling horrible ever since about it.”

  I shook my head. “…Forget it. Trust me… I am many miles down the road from that occurrence. Really… forget it.”

  She noisily swallowed and reached for a tissue in the pocket of her billowy dress. A faint smell of lavender met my nose and I wondered if she sprayed her tissues. Really?

  “Thanks, Lucy. I’ve felt terrible.” She sniffed into the tissue and brightened. “Hey! I’ve been cooking and made more lasagna. Would you like one?”

  I laughed and tugged on Baskerville’s leash. He was trying to nip poor Hamlet’s ankles. “Sure, I’d love one. How about I pick it up after I walk Baskerville?”

  She waved that suggestion off. “No, no. When I see Cindy come in, I’ll bring it over.”

  “That’s really nice of you, Mrs. Murphy. I look forward to it.”

  That wasn’t the only thing I was looking forward to tonight…

  After dinner, Cindy and I checked and rechecked what we needed: penlights, cell phones, water, tissues, mace… I wasn’t going anywhere without the mace this time.

  I’d told Cindy what was going down and she didn’t demur. Luckily, I had a trusty Watson when I needed one. When it was good and dark outside, I went to the closet for my coat and cap. As I was putting my arms in my Sherlock coat, Baskerville came running down the hallway and began barking his feisty bark at me.

  “No, Baskerville. You can’t come…I walked you when I got home. That’s got to hold you.”

  Apparently, he disagreed because he barked some more and then clamped his teeth on the hem of my jeans.

  “Damn it, Baskerville,” I tried pulling him off. “…Knock it off!”

  Cindy had walked up to get her coat too. “Come here, Baskerville. Let me pick you up.”

  But the little dog wasn’t having any of it. He knew in the recesses of his doggy brain that we were leaving again and it wasn’t going down very well. He wanted to come with us and that was that…

  He began running circles around us and neither Cindy nor I could catch him. We finally straightened and looked at one another.

  “Don’t even say it, Cindy…”

  “…He won’t be in the way…”

  “He sure will be! Where do you propose we put him? In a coat pocket?”

  “Well…” she shrugged helplessly, “maybe…”

  “Nope. He can’t come.” I folded my arms and gave her what I hoped was my sternest face.

  “…Want to tell him that?”

  We both looked at the dog sitting at our feet with a sad little face, whining pitifully. He’d changed tactics and was pretty good at plucking the heartstrings… He’d had lots of practice. I rolled my eyes up at the ceiling.

  “Jeez Louise, Cindy. This is a major mistake.”

  She grinned and picked him up, talking softly to him.

  “Now you’ll be a good little doggy, won’t you, Baskerville? I just know that you won’t make any noise.”

  She was holding him and he had a doggy smile now as he snuggled in for the duration. I refrained from rolling my eyes again.

  “…And I repeat. What are we going to do with him? He won’t stay in the car. I don’t want him on a leash.” I looked at her. “Well? You come up with something.”

  Cindy stood there, a slow smile spreading across her face. Of course, she’d thought of something. She usually did… It was annoying.

  “Maggie Carmichael…”

  That gave me pause. “…The woman who lives behind the museum?”

  “Yes, remember? She rescued Baskerville from the car when we’d left him for the museum dinner. He knows her and she’s close by. I bet she’d keep him for us.”

  I slowly began to nod my head. “…Not bad, Watson. Maybe I’ll keep you around after all.”

  Half an hour later, we’d driven over and explained what was going on to a fascinated Maggie Carmichael, who was more than happy to keep Baskerville with her. She asked good, pointed questions and seemed to know a bit more than I thought she did. Maggie repeated her suspicion that her husband had seen something he shouldn’t have the night that he died. I had a feeling she wanted to help get the guys who might have had a hand in quickening the end of her husband’s life. I didn’t blame her…

  She stood in the hallway of her house, holding and patting Baskerville’s curly head. A determined look on her face.

  “You both take care now, all right? I’m going to turn all the lights off and watch out my back window.”

  “Thanks, Maggie. That’s a fabulous idea. If you see or hear anything that doesn’t look right, feel free to call the cops.”

  “That won’t be hard to do, Lucy. They’ve had a car patrolling ever since that body was found at the museum.”

  I nodded and went out the back door. Cindy patted Baskerville and joined me at the stairs. We buttoned up our dark coats, checked our pockets for the few supplies we wanted and quietly began walking over to the art museum.

  It wasn’t far across the alley from Maggie’s house to the back of the building, but in the dark, extended shadows loomed. Each step we took down the staircase creaked with the dry wood. In the vast silence, those steps echoed around us. I skipped the final step and jumped down to the ground to avoid any further echoes.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 26

  There were no streetlights in the alley. We only got fragments of light from a lamp at the very end. It washed over a small part of our path, creating our ghostly shadows as we walked along. Cindy and I were silhouettes to one another. We dodged the few trees and utility poles on the edge of Maggie’s property and crossed the alley as quietly as we could. As luck would have it, a slight rain began to fall and coated our clothes with a fine mist. I turned up the collar on my coat and pulled down the earflaps of my cap. Cindy pulled on a woolen cap she’d brought.

  No one was around, so we took up our post on the side of the museum where we could see both the front door and the back loading area. Moisture dampened the alley and the light fragments reflected off the ground. It was easier to
see with the mist, but we were getting wet. We sought a roofline to keep the rain off us.

  And we continued our stakeout for some time. I wanted to avoid movement and light, so we kept still and remained watchful. We had no idea of the time or how much had passed. The air smelled fresh with the rain that had already stopped, and my wandering thoughts took me back to the Van Gogh umbrella that started this whole…thing. I almost wished I had that umbrella now – closure… I needed closure.

  I ventured a glance at Cindy who was stifling a yawn. Even bored, she probably thought this was more fun than dodging Warren’s advances at that horrible party. She smiled, reading my mind maybe.

  That’s when we heard it…

  A small truck went by us down the alley and parked towards the back of the museum. The driver got out and went in the back door. It was almost eerie hearing any kind of sound… We weren’t used to noise right now. A few minutes passed and two men came out carrying a small crate. I knew it had to be one of the paintings from the exhibition and was ready to leap out from the stakeout post. Cindy grabbed my arm and shook her head.

  After loading the crate, one man stayed by the truck and the other man went back inside. Who was it? Laurel and Hardy? Maybe. About ten minutes later, my eyes popped wide to see Eric coming out the front of the museum followed by one of the guards. Going around a dimly lit corner, I could see something pointed at his back. A gun? Eric got into the truck with the crate. I had a funny feeling that Eric would be unloaded the same way the crate would be. But with less effort.

  I had to do something, anything before the truck took off… Eric’s life possibly depended on it. Cindy grabbed at my arm again as I slipped out of the dark post and ran silently down the alley, stopping to hide behind a huge tree off to one side. I pulled out the canister of mace from my coat pocket. I crept forward, slowly…slowly until I was on one side of the truck. A man came out and was startled to see me crouching by a wheel. I stood up, stuck my canister in his face and sprayed him.

  Screaming, he went down clutching his face and trying to wipe away the spray. I quickly opened the door and told Eric to get out. By this time, Cindy was behind me spraying the first guy with another round of mace. He was definitely out of action when out the back door came the other guard with another man. As he drew near, my mouth dropped to see Marvin walking up casually holding a gun at me.