For Sale in Palm Springs: The Henry Wright Mystery Series (6 page)

“
Interestingly, his first
celebrity property was a double whammy in that it was also designed
by Albert Frey, the well known Modernist architect.” She brightened
up and leaned towards Henry on the other side of the table as she
remembered that transaction. She lowered her voice, “It was a small
run-down hotel out near the Palm Springs Racquet Club known as the
Legent. The rumor was that Marilyn Monroe used to stay in one of
the rooms – it has a back door that can be used to get away
quietly, she met politicians there for her illicit affairs. Rex
showed me the room before he sold the property.”

She leaned back again,
seemingly quite in awe of the Monroe legacy and having been in the
same hotel room as the late star. “A nice young couple from Chicago
bought it, they were going to renovate it and turn it into a modern
resort – though I don’t know how they would do that and not ruin
the Frey character the place had. I’ve not been back to look at it
since.” Rosie finished.

Henry felt that they were
getting off track a little bit, but wanted to keep her talking
about Thornbird’s past deals. Thornbird must have had enemies, and
the most likely place to look was in a deal gone bad, a jilted
lover, or amongst a jealous co-worker. “Is that when he switched to
his concentration on celebrity homes?” Henry asked picking up his
now quickly cooling coffee. “Yes, shortly after selling the hotel
property Rex got a listing for a house that was once owned by
Robert Goulet, you know he has such a nice voice, and it demanded
quite a premium over what other properties were going for in the
neighborhood at the time.” Rosie recounted.

“
Then, like he had a Midas
touch, other former celebrity homes started coming his way. He sold
a place that Bette Davis once owned to a young man from Northern
California, an older couple from Minnesota bought a property that
had a swimming pool that was designed for Veronica Lake, and even
the property where he was found had a Hollywood connection.” She
choked up when she spoke her last sentence, reached for a tissue on
the credenza behind her, “I’m sorry, I still have a hard time
dealing with the fact that he is gone, this office is going to have
a hard time dealing with that.”

Henry nodded his
understanding, he was sure that this office losing a valued member
and its best salesperson was not just an emotional scar that needed
to be healed but a financial scar as well, he wondered if Rosie was
at all concerned about the monetary impact, he hoped
not.

“
You said the house on
Granvia Valmonte had a celebrity connection as well, are you sure?”
Henry asked. “Oh yes” Rosie replied, “It was rumored that the house
was once owned by the famous Rudy Vallee. You know, the fellow that
sang through a megaphone.” “Oh sure, I remember him.” Henry said,
draining the last of his coffee from his cup and setting it gently
on the table. “You know, I don’t know how he finds these things
out, Rex, I mean. He has a real talent for discovering these
celebrity places. Had, I mean, sorry.” She said as she blew her
nose in her tissue and reached for a new one behind her. “Can you
help me with a list of Mr. Thornbird’s property sales for the past
few years?” Henry asked.

“
Of course, but it will take
me a while to get such a report together.” Rosie smiled as she
answered Henry. She was still wiping her nose with the tissues, but
was not nearly as nervous as when Henry first walked in the door.
Henry figured that perhaps talking to someone about Thornbird’s
demise allowed her to process that finality and helped settle her
down to the point where she was no longer talking so much that
Henry was afraid she was going to turn blue from not
breathing.

“
Let’s say mid-day
tomorrow?” Rosie asked. “That will give me enough time to pull all
the records from the computer system and you can take the report
with you.” “That sounds good.” Henry said, “Last question, I
promise, what can you tell me about lock boxes?”

“
Lock boxes?” Rosie asked.
“You mean regular key lock boxes?” “Yes, the kind that are outside
all the homes that are for sale.” Henry asked. “Well, there’s not
much to them.” Rosie said. “When a home is listed for sale, the key
to the door is put inside the box. The box is locked with a
combination and it is attached somewhere near the door. We still
use the older kind with a combination here in the Coachella Valley;
other places in the real estate business have switched over to
electronic ones.”

“
I saw one attached to a
hose bib at the house on Granvia Valmonte” Henry said. “Yes,
faucets, a porch railing, the gas pipe, sometimes it is on the door
knob.” Rosie explained. “So, who has the combination?” Henry asked.
“Well every real estate agent needs to get in, so they all know the
combination.” Rosie said. “That doesn’t seem like a secure system.”
Henry said, “How many agents are there in your office?” “Well our
office has about forty agents, and there are about thirty real
estate offices in the Coachella Valley.” Rosie answered. “So all
the lockboxes from all the offices have the same combination?”
Henry asked, “If all the offices are the same size as yours, that
means over 1,200 people have access to all the homes that are for
sale.” “Well we are one of the larger offices, but yes, there are a
lot of people that have access to the combination.” Rosie agreed.
“Do you change the combinations on a regular basis?” Henry asked.
“No, no, no, it’s a big headache, you know there are a lot of
boxes, they’re attached to homes all over the Valley, so we only
change them once a year or so. But you know Henry we’ve never had a
problem with a break-in or a crime or anything.” Rosie
replied.

“
Until Rex Thornbird had his
little problem that is.” Henry said, getting up to leave. “You
don’t think someone opened the lockbox and got in to kill Rex - do
you?” Rosie said as she too got up out of her chair. “Are we done,
you don’t have any more questions for me?” Henry ignored her first
question; he wasn’t ready to share what he was thinking with
anyone. “No, I think you’ve told me everything I need to know at
this point, thank you for the coffee.” Henry answered, reaching for
the door. “Ok, if you’re satisfied, then I guess that is ok. The
other detectives were here a lot longer and asked a lot more
questions. You didn’t even take any notes!” Rosie seemed a little
indignant that Henry was ready to go when she felt that he had not
spent enough time interviewing her. Henry smiled at her and said,
“I kind of work without notes, believe me, you’ve been very helpful
and if I have any other questions, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Ok,”
Rosie smiled, “say 12:30, that’s when I should have everything
ready for you.” “Great” Henry replied as he stepped out of the
conference room. “Say, you wouldn’t mind walking me back to the
front door would you?” He asked, “I think I’d get lost in this maze
here.” Rosie laughed and her eyes sparkled as she went past him and
said, “Of course Henry, please come this way.”

Back at the reception area,
Tiffany quickly repeated her earlier smooth and well practiced
motion of putting down the phone, hiding the magazine and dropping
the nail file in the drawer as she saw Rosie and Henry approaching.
Rosie turned, held out her hand and said, “See you tomorrow Mr.
Wright.” Henry, a little startled by the return to the more formal
greeting, shook her hand and said “I did think of one more thing,
can you get me one of the frames that you put the handout sheets
for the houses in. You know the sheets where you have the picture
and the little blurb about the house that prospective buyers
take.”

Rosie got a puzzled look on
her face as she took her hand back. “I think I know what you mean
Mr. Wright, but we don’t really have anything like that. Our flyers
are usually outside in a plastic box attached to the For Sale sign.
Sometimes some of the agents will put some extra flyers on the
kitchen counter or somewhere, but we don’t really have any frames
or holders other than the ones on the signs.” “Oh, ok, my mistake I
guess.” Henry said, reaching for the front door. “See you tomorrow,
around lunch time.”

“
Ok, Mr. Wright, until
then.” Rosie answered already turning back towards the maze of
cubicles in the building.

The heat of a late April
Palm Springs day was at its height with the temperature well over
100 as Henry walked back to his car thinking that he needed to take
a look at the For Sale signs that were planted in the front yards.
He didn’t really notice the heat, just as he never noticed the
boxes on the signs that Rosie was talking about. He wondered what
had left the imprint in the dust on the mantle of the house on
Granvia. Wayne was probably right that it didn’t mean anything, but
Henry couldn’t help but think about what had been there and now
wasn’t.

Henry started the car and
rolled the windows down as the air conditioner did its best to cool
the car down to the 82 that Henry preferred. Even under the shade
of the tree the car had heated up so that the inside seemed more
like a dry heat sauna. Once it cooled off a bit he rolled up the
windows and turned the car north on Palm Canyon and made a right
turn on Sunset Way heading for home. Surely there had to be a
Coachella Real Estate sign along the way to his house. He knew they
were as ubiquitous as palm trees in this part of Palm Springs. He’d
stop and have a look at one on the way.

Chapter 5

Henry pushed the button on
the Mercury’s built in garage door opener and pulled into the large
garage at his home on Mel Avenue. He pushed the button again and
the door closed behind him. He got out of the car and headed for
the door that led directly into his kitchen when he smelled the
unmistakable odor of onions and garlic. “Heeeey, you were gone
early this morning!” Henry’s housemate Charles greeted him while
cooking an omelet at the kitchen stove. “Yeah, I met Wayne for
breakfast and then ran over to the Coachella Real Estate office.”
Henry replied looking at Charles’ creation in the large skillet and
realizing that it was nearly two o’clock and he had not eaten since
his bagel breakfast with Wayne early that morning. “There’s plenty
here for you if you want some.” Charles said. “Sure, that sounds
good. I’ll grab a couple of plates.” Henry said, making his way to
the kitchen cabinet.

Henry bought the house on
Mel Avenue, a small street of older homes between Indian Canyon and
Via Miraleste two blocks north of the hospital, shortly after
moving to Palm Springs. The house was a single story on a large lot
and was more or less a large U shape with a pool in the middle.
There were two master bedroom suites, one in each wing, in addition
to two other bedrooms, each with their own bathroom.

The layout of the place
suited Henry perfectly; all of the bedrooms had French doors that
opened up to the backyard pool, lawn area, the barbecue and a small
pool cabana. Henry knew that the house was much larger than what he
needed when he first saw it, but he liked it, so he used the money
that he had from the sale of the home that he and Irma had shared
for so many years in Eagle River and some of her life insurance to
pay cash for it.

Henry set one of the
bedrooms up as his office. There was a comfortable chair and a good
lamp for reading, a large desk with Henry’s computer which he used
to pay his bills and do his research on the Internet, and a
bookcase that reached to the ceiling with a locked drawer where he
kept his weapons and their ammunition. Even though there were no
children in the house, he kept his guns unloaded and locked up.
There was no need to expose them to potential accidents. There were
also some things that he wanted to keep private from his
housekeeper Juanita. Not that she would have a problem with the
weapons, Henry thought, but he didn’t want her to think that he was
a violent person, which he wasn’t. In Henry’s way of thinking, once
a cop always a cop and he thought of his Colt and the Glock the
same way a carpenter would think of a favorite hammer and a nail
puller.

Right after Henry moved into
the house, he met Charles at the Senior Center where Henry had been
going to meet people and socialize since he arrived in Palm
Springs. He ran into Charles while playing pool at one of the
center’s tables on afternoon. Charles Knightly III, was a fairly
good pool player and they hit if off right away. Henry discovered
that Charles’ long time partner Jonathan passed away of AIDS a few
months before and Charles moved to Palm Springs from Northern
California after his death.

Charles was a retired High
School teacher from San Francisco and had spent a year caring for
Jonathan full-time before he died. After moving down to Palm
Springs with his dog he couldn’t find a place to rent that allowed
pets. Henry had this huge house and empty rooms so he offered
Charles the other master suite. The layout of the house was perfect
for their arrangement; Henry had a master suite and a separate
office on one side of the house with direct access to the pool.
Charles and Pierre, his dog, had moved into the master bedroom on
the other side of the house. The fourth bedroom was set up for
guests and had only been used once when Henry’s daughter Claire
came out for a brief visit a year ago.

Two months after he moved
in, Charles sort of stopped looking for another place to live and
he had been Henry’s housemate for the past two and a half years. He
paid Henry a few hundred dollars a month in rent, and they split
most of the utilities. Henry liked having someone around to talk
with, didn’t mind the dog and it had suited them both
well.