4 Decoupage Can Be Deadly (13 page)

“Which it probably isn’t,” said Zack.

“In that case, I have ten thousand dollars for a replacement. Not a penny more.” Actually, I had five thousand dollars, the same five thousand Gruenwald gave me, but I knew I’d never find reliable transportation for such a small sum.

Had I paid off enough of Karl’s debt that Ira would be able to finagle me a car loan for the balance? He must have some pull with the banks, given the number of dealerships he owned, but what would I do if every bank turned me down? I decided to pull a Scarlet O’Hara and not think about it for now, hoping the Hyundai only required a relatively minor repair.

“I’ll send my guys over to your office tomorrow to pick the car up.”

“Thanks, Ira. You’ll find a spare set of keys hanging on a hook in the mud room. I’ll email you the office address later tonight.”

“Anything for you, Anastasia.” He gave me a sloppy peck on my cheek, then left.

“That’s one seriously needy guy,” said Zack after we heard Ira descend the steps. “I feel sorry for him.”

“I do, too, but my life is too complicated to get dragged into the drama of his life.” Yet by asking a favor of Ira, I’d opened myself up for all sorts of future Ira drama.

“Which is why you dodged Flora’s dinner, too?”

“I had dinner with Cloris. I was hoping Ira and his kids would be gone by the time I got home. No such luck.”

“Is Ira at all like Karl?”

I laughed. “Had Karl been anything like Ira, he never would have bamboozled me into poverty. Ira is as transparent as Karl was deceptive.”

“Speaking of deceptive, that brings us back to an earlier topic. What are your plans, and how do you intend to keep yourself out of a killer’s crosshairs?”

Damned if I knew.

TEN

The next day Tino was waiting for me when I pulled into the parking lot. Before last night, I would have told him he needn’t take his responsibility toward me so literally. This morning I was glad to see his protective ex-Marine bulk surveying the parking lot as I stepped from the Jeep.

I’d slept little last night, tossing and turning as I worried about once again placing myself in harm’s way. I had no training as a sleuth and none of the tools available to the county detectives. All I could do was hope Batswin and Robbins made a swift arrest in this case. I wanted nothing to do with the investigation into Philomena’s murder. Yet here I was, blackmailed smack into the middle of it.

As we headed into the building, I said, “You spent a good deal of time chauffeuring Philomena around. Do you have any ideas who might have wanted her dead? Mr. Gruenwald thinks the police suspect him.”

“Mr. G. didn’t kill her.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know Mr. G.”

“He also thinks the police might suspect Mrs. Gruenwald.”

Tino narrowed his eyes and stared at me for a full ten seconds before bursting out in raucous laughter.

“Not on her own, of course, but she may have hired someone.”

“Makes no sense. Why would she kill Philomena when she was suing her?”

“To divert suspicion away from herself?”

“Is that what you think?”

“Not really. What about Norma Gene?”

Tino laughed even harder this time. “No way.”

“Why not?”

“That big baby passes out from paper cuts.”

Why didn’t that surprise me?

“I heard Philomena was beaten to a pulp,” Tino continued. “Norma Gene and all that blood? Never gonna happen. Besides, she worshipped Philomena. She’d sooner take a bullet for her than harm her.”

“So who do you think killed Philomena?

“My money’s on some of those shady dudes she hung out with in Philly.”

“Why?”

“They wanted a cut of the action. Got it, too, for a few years from what I hear. But once she went mainstream, she turned her back on them.”

“Bad for her new image?”

“Exactly.”

The gravy train drying up certainly sounded like motive for murder to me. “But if that’s the case, how did her body wind up here? Why not just make her disappear? Dump her in the Hudson or bury her up in the Catskills.”

Tino shrugged his wide receiver shoulders. “To frame someone else?”

“Possibly. But how did the killer get into the building? There were no indications of forced entry, and whoever he is, he knew about the surveillance cameras by the loading dock.”

Tino pondered that for a minute as we waited for the elevator. “Maybe some of her homies work at
Bling!
”

I hadn’t thought of that. Sue insinuated all the
Bling!
staff had magazine experience. Where would
gangstas
get magazine experience? Only one way to find out. “Tino, can you get me the personnel files of all the
Bling!
staff?”

“Don’t see why not. Mr. Gruenwald said to make sure you had whatever you need.”

“Good.” The elevator doors opened, and we stepped inside. Tino pushed the button for the second floor. “I need those files. Bring them to me at my
American Woman
office, please.” I pushed the button for the third floor.

“You’re not going up to
Bling!
?”

“Not yet.” Not until I read through all those files and figured out who knew Philomena from her days in the ‘hood.

When the elevator stopped at the second floor, Tino stayed inside. “You don’t need to accompany me to the
American Woman
offices.”

“I’ll make sure you arrive safely, then head down to Human Resources for those files.”

The doors closed, and the elevator proceeded to the third floor. I stepped into the hallway, and Tino headed back downstairs.

“I didn’t expect to see you here today,” said Cloris when I stopped into the break room for coffee. She held an open box of cupcakes and offered me one. “Pineapple mango. Compliments of a new vegan bakery in Hoboken.”

I hesitated. “Vegan cupcakes?” I broke off a piece from one
 
and popped it into my mouth. Beggars can’t be choosers when breakfast had consisted of an overripe banana and half a glass of orange juice. “Carlo’s doesn’t have to worry about competition,” I said after forcing myself to swallow. “I hope the vegans didn’t sign a long lease.”

“That bad?”

“Worse. Anyway, I thought I’d check in with Daphne first to see how she’s handling the extra workload.”

Cloris took another cupcake from the box and sampled a piece. “Ugh! You’re right.” She tossed the remainder, along with the ten still in the box, into the trash, then guzzled down half her coffee. “There should be a law against baking with soy and tofu instead of butter and eggs. “So what’s it like downstairs? Are you making enemies?”

“Not at all. The editorial director and I came to a quick and amiable understanding. I don’t tell her what to do, and she doesn’t carve me up with her switchblade.”

“What!”

“Only kidding. Everyone is totally sane and extremely professional. The blaring rap music might render me deaf, though.”

“So no suspects?”

“Shh!” I ducked out into the hall to make sure no one had overhead her, then stepped back into the room and closed the door.

“Why so paranoid?”

“Gruenwald didn’t want anyone to know the real reason for my transfer. For all I know, he’s paid off some
American Woman
spies to keep tabs on me.”

Cloris laughed as she poured two cups of coffee and handed me one. “You are paranoid!”

“Maybe.” Or maybe not. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that two plus two didn’t add up to four in Gruenwald World. Maybe this entire exercise was an elaborate scheme to send me on a wild goose chase because he worried I’d figure out he’d killed Philomena. If so, the man had far more faith in my sleuthing expertise than my experience warranted.

However, if Gruenwald did kill Philomena, he should be worried about Batswin and Robbins, not me.

Then again, given his age, I couldn’t see Gruenwald rappelling down the side of our building to steal the security cameras. Of course, he may have hired someone to do his dirty work for him, but that brought me back to the stupidity of dumping the body at Trimedia. If Gruenwald was behind Philomena’s death, why bring her body back here?

“Anyway, no one downstairs stood out as a homicidal maniac.” I lobbed my cupcake into the trash after the others. Beggars might not be choosers, but even I had my limits.

“I wonder if the crime scene unit uncovered any forensic evidence,” she said.

“Even if they did, Batswin and Robbins wouldn’t divulge anything about an ongoing investigation to me.”

“So what does Gruenwald expect you to do? Confront every staff member, asking if they killed Philomena?”

“That’s one plan, I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t advise implementing it.”

“No kidding, Watson.”

“Got a better idea?”

I told her about my latest theory concerning the
Bling!
staff. “Tino headed down to Human Resources to collect employment records for me.”

“Speaking of Tino, how does it feel to have your own personal hunk of a Secret Service detail?”

“Weird. And I haven’t figured out how to explain his presence if I’m asked why he’s following me around.”

“You’ll think of something. He’s certainly nice eye candy. If things don’t work out between you and Zack, you could do worse.”

“I don’t think so. He can’t be more than thirty, and I’m not into the cougar thing.”

“Never say never.”

“On that note, I’m off to find Daphne.”

“Give my regards to tall, dark, and drool-worthy when you see him.”

~*~

Tino arrived about twenty minutes later and dumped a stack of file folders on my desk. “All these people work downstairs at
Bling!
?”

“That’s all of them.”

I quickly thumbed through the stack, counting. “Forty-two? No way are there forty-two people working downstairs.” We didn’t have anywhere near forty-two staff members at
American Woman
. “This must be a mistake.”

“The secretary may have pulled files from other employees,” he said.

“Only one way to find out.” I divided the stack in half and handed one pile to Tino. “Start reading.”

“What am I looking for again?”

“Anyone with a Philadelphia connection who now works for
Bling!
”

Tino wedged his bulk into the one spare chair in my cubicle and opened the first file. I settled into my desk chair and began reading from my stack.

First up on my pile was Sue Evens,
Bling!
’s editorial director. Sue listed
Philadelphia Magazine
as her former employer.

“Got one,” Tino said. “Anthony Marzano. His employment application lists his last address as West Diamond Street, Philadelphia.”

“What about former employers?”

“None listed. Looks like this is his first job.”

“And his position at
Bling!
?”

“Copywriter.”

First job and he scores a gig as a magazine copywriter when so many experienced copywriters are collecting unemployment? Unless Marzano accepted the job for peanuts, this sounded suspicious. “What’s his annual salary?”

“Fifty big ones.”

Definitely suspicious. “Did he gain experience while serving in the military?”

“He doesn’t list military service.”

I held out my hand for the file. “May I?”

When Tino passed me the file, I skimmed the employment application. “He didn’t even go to college. Human resources signed off on hiring someone right out of high school as a magazine copywriter?”

“Looks like it.”

“He lists his current address as a post office box in Morristown.”

“He may not have found a permanent place to live yet when he filled out the paperwork and never bothered to update the information.”

Possibly. I placed the file on my counter. “Suspect Number One? I’d certainly like to take a look at the copy this kid is writing. If he’s even writing any copy.”

If I weren’t so hard up for cash, I’d bet my next paycheck that Anthony Marzano had scored himself a cushy no-show job, compliments of Philomena Campanello. But if that were the case, why kill the goose serving him twenty-four karat golden eggs?

“Found another,” said Tino. “Pedro Alvarez. Last address Cecil B. Moore Avenue, Philadelphia. He’s working as a layout artist for
Bling!
”

“Past experience?”

“None listed. And no college or military. Plus, he also lists a Morristown post office box for his current address. The same box as Marzano.”

I pointed to the Marzano folder. “Add it to the pile.” I then added Sue’s folder. Three files so far. Three Philadelphia connections. At least Sue had prior magazine experience and didn’t list a post office box for her current residence. However if Marzano and Alvarez actually worked downstairs, she’d lied to me about the rest of the staff having experience.