For Sale in Palm Springs: The Henry Wright Mystery Series (4 page)

“
Of course,” Wayne replied,
“You’re a fully deputized member of my team, if anyone calls to
verify that you are a cop, I’ll vouch for you – I know your
shooting is up to par – we are still going out to the range this
week, right - and I take it your weapons permit is still good?”
“Yeah, I’m ok there,” Henry replied, “though I doubt that I’m going
to need it this time.” “Ok, let me know if you are going to need
anything else,” Wayne said as he waved Millie over for the
check.

“
Ok, I may need access to
some records, like maybe the phone company, but I doubt that I’ll
run into any roadblocks.” Henry said as Millie laid the check on
the table in front of Wayne and refilled their coffee cups to their
objections. “Hmmm, isn’t it kind of funny that they keep raising
the price of coffee, but once you pay for it, they continue to give
it to you until your bladder is ready to burst?” Henry said as they
got up to go to the cash register. Wayne looked at his friend Henry
and shook his head wondering if observations like that were what
made him such a good detective.

Chapter 3

While Wayne walked up to the
register to pay for breakfast, Henry dug into his pocket for a
couple of bills to leave as a tip. His daughter, Claire, worked as
a restaurant hostess and waitress while she was in college and ever
since then Henry always left a larger gratuity for the people who
waited on him. He knew that Millie didn’t really need the money,
but it was the principle that was important. He caught up with
Wayne at the cash register as he was helping himself to several of
the free toothpicks from the dispenser on the counter.

“
I take it you’ll want to
see the crime scene first?” Wayne asked as he jammed one of the
toothpicks in his mouth while carefully putting the remainder in
his shirt pocket. “Yep, if you have the time, I’d like to go now.”
Henry said, pulling the Mercury’s key fob out of his
pocket.

“
I figured as much and
didn’t schedule anything else this morning.” Wayne replied pushing
open the door to the restaurant.

As Wayne and Henry walked
out the door of the restaurant to their cars, the temperature was
already well into 90’s even though it was not even nine-thirty.
“Looks like it’s going to be another hot one,” Wayne said as he
reached for his car keys. “Aren’t they all?” Henry replied, “That’s
why I’m here and not in Wisconsin!” he grinned pushing the unlock
button on the little key fob. “It’s a lot easier to cool off then
to get warm.” Henry continued, getting into his car. “Can I follow
you to the house?” He asked Wayne before starting the car and its
air conditioner. “Yeah, just follow me over; I won’t drive too fast
this time.”

The tan city owned Ford
Crown Victoria that Wayne was driving headed back down Tahquitz
Canyon Way for the house on Granvia Valmonte, as Henry swung in
behind. He rolled up the window as the air conditioner kicked in,
he had the car’s climate control system set for 82 degrees, he
found that setting was comfortable for him. Henry was enjoying the
heat of Palms Springs in late April as opposed to the cold of Eagle
River, Wisconsin where this time of year it would barely be
thawing.

Wayne came to a stop at the
curb of the house on Granvia Valmonte and Henry pulled in right
behind. The lawn needed mowing, and there were several throwaway
newspapers on the driveway. Ironically, Rex Thornbird’s face was
still smiling at Henry from the prominent for sale sign that had
been planted in the lawn.

“
Good looking guy!” Henry
said, as he and Wayne walked up to the front door that was sealed
off with crime tape. “Oh, you mean the sign?” Wayne replied,
removing the tape and pushing the door open while tearing the crime
scene crew’s “Do Not Enter” sticker. “Yeah, he didn’t look like
that when I saw him.” Wayne replied as he stepped into the house.
“He was a little more bloated and a lot paler when he was in a
drawer at the Riverside County morgue over in Perris.”

They stepped inside the
house and Henry got his first look around. “Pretty bare, nothing in
here but dust.” He said as he walked over to the patio doors. “It
looks like your crime scene fingerprint crew has been here.” He
said, noting the smudges of powder left on the glass doors. “Find
anything significant?” “No, it looks as though Thornbird walked
through the house opening doors and turning on lights.” Wayne
replied as he stepped into the kitchen where a giant blood stain on
the floor showed where Rex Thornbird had spent his last few
minutes. “Here’s where the murder weapon hung on the wall.” Wayne
pointed to the blank telephone outlet on the wall with his
ballpoint pen. Even though the crew had already dusted for prints,
Wayne and Henry from force of habit made sure that they didn’t
touch anything.

Henry looked at the
collection of business cards on the kitchen counter and raised an
eyebrow at Wayne. “When other realtors come over to show a house to
a potential buyer, they use the lockbox at the front of the house
to let themselves in. The lockbox contains the keys to the house.
When they leave, they usually toss their business card somewhere on
a counter or table as a courtesy to the listing agent.” Wayne
explained. “What is a listing agent?” Henry asked looking through
the pile of cards. “A listing agent is the real estate agent
representing the seller of the house, they are the agent that
“takes the listing”” Wayne said, not paying much attention to
Henry’s examination of the cards.

“
Can I have these? They may
lead to something interesting. Of course I’ll return them.” Henry
said. “Sure, we’ve made an inventory of all the agents that were
here – I don’t think you’ll find anything other than a bunch of
agents parading through the same set of houses.”

“
Have a look at where the
phone was pulled off the wall and tell me what you think.” Wayne
said, motioning his friend closer to the blood stain. “It looks
like a standard wall telephone outlet.” Henry said, reaching into
his pocket for his reading glasses. “It’s one of those modular
kind, not the plastic ones, but one of the older metal types,
probably installed in the seventies.” Wayne pointed out. “I thought
you said we had to look for someone strong that could rip an old
fashioned telephone right off the wall.” Henry asked Wayne, looking
at the wall mount closely with his reading glasses perched at the
end of his nose.

“
Actually my friend, you
said that we needed to look for someone strong when I told you that
the phone had been pulled off the wall, I figured you’d change your
mind once you saw it.”

“
Heck, my Irma could have
pulled this phone out.” Said Henry. “Not that she ever would need
to do that of course.” He added quickly, taking his glasses off and
carefully putting them back in their case and into his
pocket.

“
So he got hit by the phone,
fell down on the floor and bled to death?” Henry asked looking at
the huge rusty red blood stain that showed that something obviously
traumatic had happened in this kitchen. “Basically, that’s it,
though if you look at the counter right here, we think he hit his
head on the way down.” Wayne said. “And he didn’t call anyone from
the phone – did you dust it for prints?” Henry looked at the
counter and around the rest of the empty kitchen.

“
The only prints on the
telephone were on the handset, and those were Thornbird’s.” Wayne
replied. “Nothing else was on the phone itself, though it might
have been wiped.” “Hmmm, wiped eh?” Henry said, furrowing his brow.
“What makes you think it “might” have been wiped?” Henry
asked.

“
Well, everything around
here is pretty dusty as you can see, and the phone didn’t have any
dust on it.” Wayne said. “Besides, the phone wasn’t on; service was
cut off several months ago according to the phone company.” “All
these real estate agents carry cell phones don’t they?” Henry
asked. “Did you check his phone, did he make any calls before he
died, was it in his pocket?” Henry asked his mind working quickly
and asking the questions as fast as he thought of them.

“
Slow down a second,
apparently Thornbird didn’t carry a cell phone on him.” Wayne said,
fishing another toothpick out of his pocket. “I know realtors stay
in touch with cell phones so I specifically looked for it on his
body when I first came here, no phone, no empty belt clip – we
finally found his phone in the glove compartment of his car, it was
turned off.”

“
Ok, so I don’t need to
bother getting records from the wireless company then.” Henry
said.

“
We’ve already requested
them, but I don’t think we’ll find anything significant.” Wayne
said putting the fresh toothpick in his mouth and pulling the
chewed up one out. “Excuse me a second, will you?” He asked heading
for the front door to toss the tooth marked piece of wood into the
house’s landscape.

“
Give me a couple of minutes
to look around the house.” Henry said as he headed for the back
bedrooms. Henry walked slowly through the house, looking around at
the non-descript hallway with its fingerprint powdered thermostat
as he went into the back bedroom. It was larger than the others and
obviously the master bedroom with a small adjoining bathroom. The
bathroom had an ugly pink tile that was obviously popular and
modern when the house was built but now looked garish and dated.
The pink even extended to the sink and toilet and was a shocking
contrast to the fresh white paint.

The bedroom was brightly lit
with two casement windows in what was obviously the back corner of
the house. Henry tried the windows, but either they were locked
tight or painted shut. Probably painted shut, Henry thought, it
looks like a blow and go paint crew went through here right before
the house went up for sale.

The second bedroom was
smaller, but had a very spacious closet that stretched the length
of one wall. It too had a large window, it too was painted shut.
The third bedroom was about the same size as the second; its closet
was a bit smaller but still very spacious in comparison to a lot of
houses that were currently being built. Henry knew what he would
find at the window, but he checked it anyway. Of course it had been
painted shut as well.

Henry fished into his pocket
for his handkerchief to wipe the dust off his hands. Since it had
been a while since anyone did any housekeeping, in addition to the
fingerprint dust that was around an accumulation of regular dust
was all over the window sills. He opened the last door in the
hallway it was a utility closet that was pretty small; it only
contained the home’s forced air heater and an old broom. He walked
back into the living room to look for anything that the crime scene
crew or one of Wayne’s detectives might have overlooked. The empty
room didn’t show anything obvious.

“
Duke, did your guys check
out the chimney flu?” He asked Wayne who had stepped back through
the door. “You mean for hidden weapons or tools?” Wayne replied,
pulling the toothpick out of his mouth and waving it around to
imitate someone hiding something up the chimney. “We looked, the
flu was open, but a lot of people do that for a little extra air
circulation in the summer time. There was nothing there, and it
looked as though it was cleaned earlier this year.” “They probably
cleaned it whenever the house was painted.” Henry said as he got on
his knees to have a look up the chimney anyway. “Looks clean” Henry
said, brushing off his pants as he got up.

“
But what left the clean
mark here in the dust on the mantle?” Henry asked standing up in
front of the fireplace. “Hmmm, I didn’t notice that before.” Wayne
replied studying the mark that had been left in the dust. Henry put
his reading glasses back on and looked at the mark closely “It
looks like it was here quite a while, notice it left a clean spot
in the dust all around it. It’s about the size of a picture frame,
or a small easel of some type.” Henry observed. “You know, I bet it
is one of those frames that realtors use to put the sheets of paper
in that describe the house, you know, the flyers with the
description of how many bedrooms and bathrooms a place has, how
much it costs and what not.” Wayne said. “On the mantle is an
obvious spot for it, everyone coming through the front door would
notice it right away.”

“
Hmmm, you’re probably
right. I want to go to Thornbird’s office to find out a little more
about how these realtors operate and perhaps I can pick up one of
these frames to check it out.” Henry said, wiping his hands on his
handkerchief one more time. “Meanwhile, do you think you could have
one of your crew come out here and take measurements of this
imprint in the dust?”

Wayne reached for his cell
phone as he replied, “Sure, I’ll call right now and have them take
some picture of it as well. I’ll be damned, I don’t know how we
overlooked that, but I’m sure it will amount to nothing after you
check in at Thornbird’s office about those flyers.” Henry raised an
eyebrow and said, “I don’t know Duke, your “amount to nothings” are
adding up.” “Yeah, they are,” Wayne chuckled, “But that’s why I’m
counting on you to help me with my math.”

They stepped back out into
the sunshine and Wayne pulled the door shut behind them. “Phew, I
didn’t realize how stuffy it was in there.” Henry said, pulling out
his handkerchief once again, this time to blow his nose. “Really,
you’d think an empty house with all the doors and windows closed
would keep the dust out.” Wayne replied pulling a new crime scene
tag out of his inside coat pocket. He sealed the tag over the crack
in the door and said, “Did you want to see anything
else?”