4 Decoupage Can Be Deadly (25 page)

“That’s the part of this scenario that makes no sense.” And the puzzle piece that I hoped proved Tino wasn’t involved in Philomena’s murder.

“Are you going to talk to Batswin about this?” asked Cloris.

“She’s my next call.” For one thing, I didn’t even know if Philomena had a Vajazzled vagina at the time of her death. The photos in
Bling!
had been taken months before the issue hit the newsstands.

I hung up from Cloris and dialed Detective Batswin, but my call went directly to her voicemail. I left a message, asking her to call me back as soon as possible.

I arrived home to find Zack’s Boxster parked in the driveway and the lights on in the apartment above my garage. Instead of heading into the house, I made my way up the steps on the side of the garage and knocked on the apartment door.

When Zack swung the door open, I gasped. “What happened to you?” His left eye sported a huge shiner. “And don’t you dare tell me you walked into a door.”

“All right, I won’t.”

“And?”
 

He stepped aside, and I entered the apartment. “What? You told me not to tell you.”

I studied his sheepish grin and knew I’d get nowhere. “You realize this just adds to my theory about you and one of the alphabet agencies.”

He shrugged. “If I told you what really happened, you’d still cling to your conspiracy theory.”

Two points for Zack. I gingerly touched the purple flesh under his swollen eye. “Maybe you need to take a refresher course in ducking. Does it hurt.”

“Only when I laugh.”

“That’s not helping.”

“It looks a lot worse than it feels.” Zack headed over to the fridge and removed a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

“Mama is going to have a fit.”

“Why? It’ll heal.”

I grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and placed them on the counter while he uncorked the wine. “Not before Sunday.”

“What’s Sunday?”

“She expects you to walk her down the aisle.” I laid out Mama’s plans as he filled our glasses. “You’re going to spoil the wedding album,” I said.

“Album?” Zack set down the bottle and calculated on his fingers. “This is her sixth marriage, right?” When I nodded, he continued, “And she still plans to have a wedding album?”

“She’s got one for each of her other five weddings.”

“I’m sure between your artistic talents and my photographic talents, we can Photoshop out the shiner.”

“That may pacify her.”

“If not, she can always find someone else to give her away. I’m sure Lucille would be more than happy to do the honors.”

“Very funny.”

~*~

Detective Batswin didn’t return my call until the following morning. “You wanted to speak with me yesterday, Mrs. Pollack?” she asked when I answered my cell.

Unfortunately, Tino was taking up most of the available space in my cubicle. I could hardly discuss the purpose of my call when the possible suspect sat two feet away from me. “Yes, thanks for calling me back, Winnie.”

“I didn’t realize we’d moved on to a first name basis, Mrs. Pollack, but I much prefer Fred to Winnie.”

“Of course, you do, Winnie. I called because I’m doing a holiday teddy bear spread for the March issue and was wondering if you had any new fabrics I might feature. Possibly fake fur or a textured plush. Preferably washable.”

“I see. I take it you can’t talk right now?”

“Yes, an embossed velveteen might work, depending on the color and pattern.”

“Are you presently in danger, Mrs. Pollack?”

I chuckled. “Not at all. At Trimedia we’re always happy to showcase advertisers’ products in our editorial spreads.”

“I can be there in ten minutes.”

“Thank you. I’d love to come see the new collection.”

“You want to drive here? When?”

“A dozen new lines? Sounds like I’ll have a tough time deciding.”

“Noon?”

“Sounds great, Winnie.”

I flipped my phone closed. “I’ll be out for a few hours this afternoon,” I said to Tino.

“I’ll drive you.”

“No need. I’m only heading over to a vendor.”

“Mr. Gruenwald would want me to take you. What if someone follows you?”

“Who? The same someone who’s followed me home each night? Get real, Tino. I’m no threat to the killer. I have no clue who he is.”

“I’m getting paid to keep you safe.”

I rolled my eyes, wondering how much Tino had been paid for a week of babysitting duty. Probably more than I made in a month, given his bespoke suit, designer running shoes, and Bulgari shades. He’d done nothing other than shadow my every move. And for what? Why?

The more I thought about it, the more suspicious I became of Gruenwald’s motive in hiring me to play detective. Was Tino here to keep me safe or to keep an eye on me? The more I puzzled over the aspects of Philomena’s death and its aftermath, the more I believed ulterior motives came into play. If only I could figure out what they were....

“If you want to do something useful,” I said, “spend the time I’m gone perusing the
Bear Essentials
employee records. Marie emailed them to me a few minutes ago. I’ll forward the files to your phone. What’s your email address?”

Tino rattled off a G-mail account, then asked, “What am I looking for?”

“Start with anyone who’d been written up for any work-related infraction.”

“And then? What am I supposed to do, call to ask if they killed Philomena?”

“Very funny. If this bodyguard gig dries up, you should consider stand-up.”

“I wasn’t joking,” he deadpanned.

“Could have fooled me. I’d suggest something a bit less direct.”

“Like?”

I thought for a moment. “Pretend you’re an independent researcher doing a study on corporate layoffs. Ask if they’ve found another job yet, how they’re handling being out of work if they haven’t. Let them talk. See what they say.”

“You want me to record the conversations?”

“That would be illegal, wouldn’t it?”

“Not if I ask permission. For research purposes.”

“Great idea.”

“Except I think you’d do a much better job of it.”

“Why is that?”

“You know, the woman’s touch. Women are more sympathetic. They’ll open up to you more than they will me.”

“I don’t—” I stopped short. “Damn! This won’t work. We can’t call people and pretend we’re someone else.”

“Why not?”
 

“
Trimedia
will pop up on their Caller ID.”

“Not if you use my phone.” Tino waved his iPhone at me.

“Won’t your name appear on the display?”

“Thanks to a simple software program, my display reads
Semper Fi
.”

“The Marine’s motto?”

“Short for
Semper Fidelis
. Always faithful. You can be Semper Fi Research.”

“You make the initial calls. I’ll do follow-up. We’ll appear more legitimate that way.” Why, I didn’t know, but Tino bought my argument and grudgingly agreed. I still worried that he might follow me when I left Trimedia. The last thing I needed was for him to discover I’d driven to the Morris County police headquarters instead of some fictitious fabric manufacturer’s showroom.

Twenty minutes later I saved and closed the open file on my computer, grabbed my purse, and stood. “I’m heading to the ladies’ room.”

He grunted his acknowledgment, never looking up from his iPhone.
 

At the entrance to the ladies’ room, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Tino hadn’t stepped out into the hall to watch me. When I didn’t see him, I continued down the corridor, rounded the corner, and headed for the stairwell.

Less than five minutes later I was on my way to meet Batswin at police headquarters. Throughout the short trip, I couldn’t help but keep glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure no black Lincolns tailed me.

TWENTY

Detective Batswin and her colleagues worked out of the Morris County Courthouse, a building reminiscent of colonial times and possibly as old. Every school kid growing up in New Jersey knows the significance of Morristown in the history of our country. Washington really did sleep here—on multiple occasions.

The courthouse facade offered a stark contrast to the high-tech facility housed within its red brick exterior. However, when I arrived, Detective Batswin ushered me into an interview room straight out of a
Law & Order
episode, the only nod to state-of-the-art being the cameras I noted mounted near the ceiling.

She motioned toward one of two metal chairs facing each other across a battered wooden table. I settled into one chair. Dispensing with any social chitchat, she took the seat across from me and asked, “What’s on your mind, Mrs. Pollack?”

I weighed my words carefully. From past experience I knew Batswin turned testy if she thought I was accusing her of not doing her job correctly, and the tight set of her mouth suggested a sour mood. “Can I assume you’re in the process of investigating former Trimedia employees?”

“Of course. Anyone in particular you think I should focus attention on?”

“Not that I know of, but are you aware that Mr. Gruenwald recently folded
Bear Essentials
, one of the company’s other magazines, to make room for
Bling!
?”

“We are, and we’ve been looking into those former employees.” She tapped a pen against a legal pad, signaling that I was wasting her time. “Anything more?”

“I suspect Gruenwald fudged the books to get board approval to fold
Bear Essentials
.”

Batswin halted the staccato tap-tap of her pen and raised both eyebrows. “Go on.”

I outlined why I didn’t believe
Bear Essentials
wasn’t making a profit. “The numbers don’t add up.”

I had asked Marie to check circulation figures and ad revenues for the past two years prior to the demise of
Bear Essentials
. All indicators pointed to a healthy annual profit. If the board folded the magazine because they believed it was bleeding red ink, someone had fudged the books.

“You’re suggesting Mr. Gruenwald had some ulterior motive for shutting down the magazine?”

“I do. Of course, I’m not privy to the inner workings of the board, but I suspect they wouldn’t approve of adding another publication in this shaky economy. Magazine publishing isn’t a growth industry. In order to get approval for
Bling!
, Gruenwald had to argue for replacing one of the other magazines.” I suppose I should breathe a sigh of relief that he’d chosen
Bear Essentials
and not
American Woman
.

“Still, that probably has nothing to do with Philomena’s murder unless the killer was more motivated by a need to get back at Gruenwald. Kill Philomena, and you kill
Bling!
” And maybe that’s why her body was dumped at Trimedia rather than in the Hudson.

“But you don’t know of anyone in particular who might harbor a grudge against Gruenwald?”

I flipped my palms upward and shrugged. “I don’t even know the people who worked at
Bear Essentials
. Each magazine is fairly autonomous. We generally don’t interact with each other, especially magazines headquartered on different floors of our building.”

Batswin scowled. “So you really don’t have much of anything for me, do you, Mrs. Pollack?”

I hesitated. “There is one other thing. It could be nothing, but—”

“Yes?”

“Did Philomena have a Vajazzle?”

Batswin’s brows knit together in puzzlement. “A what?”

I provided a quickie summary of the art of Vajazzling. After which, Batswin muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “So that’s what it’s called.”

“Then she did?” I asked.

Batswin returned to cop mode. “I’m afraid I can’t divulge anything involving an ongoing investigation. Why are you asking?”

Instead of answering her, I asked another question. “Did you ever search Gruenwald’s Lincoln?”

“We don’t have enough probable cause for a search warrant. Why?”

“I found something. It’s probably nothing, but it seemed odd.”

“What did you find?”

I reached into my pocket, removed the crystal, and placed it on the table between us. “This is a Vajazzling crystal. I found it in the Lincoln’s trunk.”

“What were you doing snooping around Gruenwald’s car?”

“I wasn’t snooping. Tino was transporting cartons from Mr. Gruenwald’s office. I just happened to notice the crystal while we were chatting as he loaded cartons into the trunk. It probably came from the office carpet. Apparently, the crystals start falling off after only a few days, but I thought I should bring it to your attention.”

Batswin picked up the crystal with her thumb and forefinger and examined it. “I can’t get a search warrant based on this. Did you notice anything else about the contents of the trunk that seemed odd?”