MASS MURDER (3 page)

He faked a punch at Giorgio’s belly and laughed as Giorgio used a Kleenex to wipe off the m
irror.

“I’m glad you liked it.
Where’s Angie?”

“She’s waiting for you in the lobby with the kids.
Hey, Tony loved the stabbing.”
Rocky set down the powder puff and grabbed a makeup sponge.
“He wants you to show him how they did it.”

With a patience that belied his mood, Giorgio rescued the sponge and replaced it in a makeup box
that belonged to another actor.

“What did Angie say?”

“Oh, you know Angie.”
Rocky fingered the powder puff again, his dark eyes glinting as if
the powder puff was
a chocolate truffle.
“She never says much, but she loved it.
She loves everything you do.”

Giorgio carefully closed the box that housed the powder puff and caught the faint smell of alcohol against the dense aroma of face paint and hair spray.
He threw a suspicious glance at his brother, but said nothing.
Rocky pulled his leg o
ut from the bench and stood up.

“C’mon, let’s go.
We promised to take the kids for ice cream.”

“Ice cream,” Giorgio perked up.
“I’m right behind you.”

The two brothers approached the theater lobby where Angie stood talking with an enormous woman dressed in a bulky red caftan and green cap.
As though her size weren’t statement enough, Giorgio thoug
ht
she looked like a giant tomato.
He turned to Rocky with a snide remark poised on his lips when the woman’s husband glanced his way.
Giorgio recovered quickly, faked a cough
,
and turned to find his children.

Tony and his sister, Marie, were peering into a glass case that displayed props from the previous fall production of Dracula.
Eight year-old Tony knelt with his face pressed against the glass staring at the bat.
Marie, a year older, stood with her hands behind her back
rocking
back and forth
so that
her blue taffeta skirt flipped like waves on the ocean
. Something caught
in Giorgio’s throat
at the image
.
Marie was so like her mother,
slender and pretty, with honey-
colored skin
,
and large doe-brown eyes.
The only thing marring what Giorgio thought of as perfection
,
were the slightly crooked teeth that flashed whenever she smiled.
Braces would fix that, he thought.
Just a little more overtime.

Marie’s eyes lit up when she saw her father
,
and she ran to him.
He scoop
ed her up in one easy movement.

“Daddy, you were wonderful.”

Her lips touched his cheek, flooding his nostrils with the smell of the chocolate pudding she’d had at dinner.
He sucked it up like Hummingbirds suck nectar and then set
her down and ruffled her hair.

“Thanks honey.
What’d your mom think?”

“I think she liked it.
We’re going for ice cream.”
She grabbed his hand. “Mom promised.”

“Okay.
Let’s get your brother.”

Giorgio yelled for Tony
,
but the appeal of the rubber bat suspended from the top of the case had glued him to the spot.
Tony was slender like Marie but a head shorter.
The uncomfortable looking suit and tie required by his mother for the show tonight made him look like a miniature used car salesman
.

“Hey, Tony!” Giorgio bellowed.
“Apparently your hearing is impaired!
Let’s go!”

Everyone in the lobby turned with a jerk except Tony, who rose obediently and followed his father without a word.
Angie said goodbye to the giant tomato
,
and the family walked outside and dow
n the steps towards the street.

“You’re not on stage anymore, Joe,” Angie reprimanded
him
as they followed the cement walkway into the
park. “You don’t have to yell.”

“I know,” he snarled.

They rounded the corner of the old granite courthouse converted years earlier into a community theater.
The bulky, two-story building anchored the southeast corner of the town square
and was
flanked by a small parking lot
,
graceful eucalyptus trees, box hedges
,
and a stone marker commemorating 1930 as the year the old courthouse was built.
It was late October
,
and leaves covered the sidewalk.
Marie kicked at them playfully while she walked in between her parents.
The news station had predicted a storm
,
and the air was dense with moisture.
Rocky chase
d
Tony around the swing set
making Giorgio think
how glad he was they had all moved here two years earlier.
Life was good.

Marie reached up and took the keys from her father’s hand and ran ahead to unlock the car le
aving the couple to themselves.

“So,” Giorgio began, “what’d you think?”

Angie moved over to put her slender
arm through his. “About what?”

Her voice chimed the way a mellow church bell draws the hour
,
and Giorgio
inhaled the sweet scent of her floral perfume
.

“Now, don’t do that to me, Angie.
You know what I mean.”

“I thought it was good,” she said simply.

“That’s all?
Just good?”

“No. Very good.
It was very good.”

“Hmm,” he mumbled.

“You were very good, Joe.
You always are.”
She lifted his hand and kissed the back of it.
“I liked it.”

He threw his arm around her slim waist
drawing her close
. “Thanks.
I always wanted to do that part, you know.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

“Perhaps I should send Wilson a card thanking him.
After all, I couldn’t have done it without him.”
He chuckled, winning a look of eternal patience from his wife.
“Okay, maybe not a thank you, but I should at least see how he’s doing.
Tell him how the play went.”

“That would be nice.
Joe,” she said, squeezing his arm, “there’s something I’ve bee
n waiting to talk to you about.”

They were nearing the parking lot when a loud rattle interrupted them.
Fifty feet ahead, a man was
digging through
a trashcan.
Only his legs were visible
. He looked
as if he’d been swallowed up like Jonah’s whale.
H
e emerged holding an empty bottle, his straggly hair falling to his shoulders.
Angie stopped short.

“It’s okay.
That’s just Oliver.”
Giorgio called out to the old man. “Hey
,
Oliver!
Get some good ones?”

Oliver leaned forward, squinting in the low light.
He was short and slightly built, wearing dark baggy pants and a heavy, quilted coat.
He smiled at
Giorgio
showing
the darkened hole where his front teeth should have been
.

“Hey, Detective.
You bet.
I got me enough for a th-teak dinner.”
He gave a hoarse laugh.

Just then,
Tony and Rocky ran up behind them tagging each other and laughing.
At the same moment a Sierra Madre squad car pulled into the lot.
Two patrolmen got out.
Giorgio turned back to find Oliver, but the old man had evaporated into the night.

“Joe, we got a call.”

It was Officer Samson.
Samson was in his late twenties and wore a patrolman’s uniform and leather jacket.
He sauntered forward
with
one thumb stuck in his belt as if being a cop was as good as it got in this small town
.

“Swan’s on duty tonight,” Giorgio said, opening the car door for Angie.

“I know, but the Cap
tain
is out-of-town and
wants you in on this one.”

Samson tipped his hat to Angie
just as
Tony snuck in to stand
just below the officer’s elbow
.
Angie stepped forward and twirled him around
and
marched
both children to the opposite side of the car.
The officers took the cue and walked a few feet away.
Rocky joined them
,
and Samson greeted him with a quick nod before
introducing him to his partner.

“This is O
fficer Maxwell.
Rocky’s with
San Marino
.”

“What’s going on?” Giorgio interrupted.

He wanted to go for ice cream and bask in the glow of his family’s admiration.
Then he wanted to stop by the closing night party.
Whatever this was, he could take care of it in the morning.

“There’s been a murder.”

Maxwell spoke this time.
He was a short, stocky man in his mid twenties who stood with his arms across the ample girth Giorgio thought would proba
bly send him to an early grave.

Murders were rare in a town this size.
Disturbance calls and assists to other agencies were more common.
The low incidence of homicides had been one of the reasons Giorgio had moved his family here
.

“Where?” he inquired
with only a hint of enthusiasm.

The two officers exchanged looks before Samson replied.

“At the monastery.”

A sudden breeze swirled a handful of leaves around their feet just as one of the tall parking lights flickered and dimmed.
Giorgio looked up thinking the city needed to replace
a loose bulb.