Vultures At Twilight Part 14

NINETEEN.

Like pulling teeth, Mattie thought as she sat outside Nillewaug in her state-issue unmarked and aging Crown Victoria and studied the card Preston had given her. No reason for things to be this hard. It made her deeply suspicious, but what if this was a dead end? With the body count escalating, time that most precious of commodities couldn't be wasted. But this could be completely unrelated. 'Something stinks,' she said out loud, and she pulled for facts to back up her gut. There was something complicit between Nillewaug and Pilgrim's Progress and whatever games the local antique dealers were playing. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. 'Hank, it's Mattie Perez.'

His voice was cheerful. 'How's it going?'

'Not bad. I've been following some leads at Nillewaug Village. Did you know forty percent of the residents here came from Pilgrim's Progress? And another third from Grenville?'

Moments ticked. 'That and a bunch of other stuff. What's the point?'

'I'm not certain,' she said, her resolve wavering. 'But the murders keep sending me back to Pilgrim and Nillewaug. At times I think the murderer does too.'

'The jewelry bit?'

'Yes. The night McElroy was murdered he had just auctioned off the estate of a Nillewaug resident, did you know that? Or that a good portion of Mildred Potts' inventory came from Pilgrim and Nillewaug?'

'You could be clutching. So what was it you wanted to ask?'

'Hank, there's a connection, but I have to be able to look around. That seems hard to do.'

'What are you getting at?'

Mattie related her session with Delia Preston.

'So she gave you Jim Warren's name?'

'You know him?'

'Of course.'

'Then why the hush hush?'

'Probably what the woman said. Preston's a single mom with a son in college; she doesn't want you bothering the man who signs her paycheck.'

'What do you think?' she asked, realizing she might have misjudged Delia, and knowing first hand what it's like to be the sole support of a family.

'Jim Warren's sharp. He's the most expensive lawyer in town. You won't get much from him.'

'You think this is a dead end.'

He paused. 'I don't know if it's where I'd put a lot of effort.'

'Why?' suddenly annoyed, realizing at the end of the day Hank's loyalties fell in step with his town.

'Mattie, in Grenville, you got to watch whose toes you step on. It's not Hartford or New Haven; it's a small town where everybody knows everybody's business.'

'You telling me to pull back?'

'Nah, you got to go where your gut tells you. Just be careful.'

'Of toes?'

'Yeah.' He chuckled. 'People around here got lots of 'em.'

'You want to come with me when I talk to Mr Warren?'

'What about Kevin? He's got toes too. He kind of figures you've been leaving him in the dust.'

'It's just . . .'

'I know, but people like him, and frankly, you could use the social lubricant.'

'You want me to take him?'

'Couldn't hurt. Anything else come up?'

'Not yet,' she said, feeling like a rookie who's just been chastised. 'I'm waiting for forensics. They told me there was talc residue on the paddles so it seems like the killer was wearing disposable gloves. Of course, around here every other store is a pharmacy or medical supply shop, so it's not the most robust lead.'

'Welcome to Grenville,' he commented dryly. 'Old folks and antiques.'

'Although,' she said, using Hank as a sounding board, 'there could be something with the gloves. We all had to change from latex to these funky purple ones a few years back, because some people had allergic reactions.'

'Same here. What's the point?'

'It could be nothing, but the new ones don't have talc. Do me a favor and see if they're still selling latex with talc, if not our killer is using old gloves.'

'I'll make a couple calls, you're right it could be something . . .' His voice trailed. 'Not a big something.'

'I know, but at this point I'll take anything.'

After they hung up she dialed another number.

'Mrs Strauss?'

'Yes.'

'This is Mattie Perez.'

'Well h.e.l.lo, Mattie,' Ada said, sounding pleased.

'I had a couple questions about things you and Mrs Campbell had said at lunch yesterday.'

'Fire away, dear. Oops, could you hold on one minute while I get my tea?'

'No problem.'

Mattie cradled the phone and heard the whistling teakettle. There was something comfortable in the clatter of crockery and the hollow whoosh of a cookie tin opening.

'Sorry about that,' Ada said. 'You had some questions?'

'Right, they have to do with the woman's estate you're liquidating.'

'Evie's, Evie Henderson.'

'You said that Mildred Potts had given you an estimate and also Tolliver Jacobs.'

'That's right and I got a third from Mr Caputo.'

Mattie felt her breath catch. 'You mentioned him at lunch.'

'Yes, although he hasn't returned my calls.'

Mattie again got that sick feeling about Rudy Caputo, as well as the other two men whose auction paddles had been used to flay open McElroy's gut. Hunting them down had been the sole task she'd handed off to her grudgingly provided reinforcements. 'How did you get the names for the dealers you picked?'

'Some I got from the Grenville Antique a.s.sociation website, others I got from Evie's attorney.'

'Mr Warren?'

'You've been doing your homework, which I suspect my grandson who's sneaking out the door as we speak, has not. Excuse me.'

Mattie eavesdropped as Ada interrogated her grandson.

'Aaron, where are you going?'

'To the mall.'

'Homework done?'

'Mostly.'

'You know that if your schoolwork goes down, there's no way your mom and dad will let you stay here.'

'I'll do it; I promise. I made plans to meet a couple friends at the mall.'

'I suppose . . . Just be back for dinner.'

'Is Lil coming?' he asked.

'She should.'

'Can we have Chinese?'

'You're getting too used to this, but yes, and yes I'll order the moo shoo.' Ada turned back to the detective. 'I just don't know what I'm doing,' she admitted.

'He sounds like a nice kid,' Mattie offered.

'He's a gem,' Ada boasted. 'I just think it's hard for kids these days. Or harder in a different way from when I grew up. Back then you kind of knew what was expected of you. Now it's all so confusing.'

'Do you mind if I ask you something personal?'

'Not at all.'

'Why isn't he with his parents?'

'My son-in-law and he aren't on speaking terms, it seems.'

'Big fight?'

'A whopper, which reminds me that I should give my daughter a call. I'm still not certain what's going on.'

'In my experience,' Mattie offered, 'and before homicide I worked domestic violence, there are only a few reasons why kids leave home . . . or get pushed out. You want to hear them?'

'Please.'

'Let's get rid of the ugly ones first,' the detective began. 's.e.xual and physical abuse are two of the major causes for runaways.'

'No,' Ada said. 'Although . . .'

'Although?'

'As much as I might not care for my son-in-law, I can't believe he's responsible for Aaron's black eye, and Aaron adamantly denies that his father hit him.'

'You know what they say about denial?' Mattie commented.

'Yes, it's a big river in Egypt.'

'As long as you know that. Then comes drugs. Any sense that he's stoned or high? Any clues like red-rimmed eyes, slurred speech, grades taking a nosedive or tickets for driving under the influence?'

'No, that's not it; at least I haven't seen anything, and Susan that's my daughter hasn't mentioned it.'

'Well, that leaves the third one which has to do with s.e.x. Any chance he got somebody pregnant?'

'No.'

'Is he gay?'

Ada paused. 'Bingo.'

'And you're OK with that?'

'He's my grandson. I'd love him if he were an axe murderer. G.o.d, that's so politically incorrect going from gay to axe murderer. I don't know if he is gay, and I don't think it makes a difference, although . . .'

'What?'