“And Neda had that talent.”
“In spades.” He sighed. “But sadly it wasn’t to be. I’ll have to start from scratch, and find a new director.”
“Janette Bittiner?”
“Absolutely not. Janette would only create discord and chaos if she took the reins.”
“Yoko?”
“Too impulsive and inexperienced. And I’ve told her so. No,” he said, a pensive look coming over him. “I think this time I’m going to have to look beyond the choir. Bring in an outsider. Which just might be for the best. As this whole experience with Neda has proved, if you promote someone from the main group to director prominence, all you reap is jealousy and spite.”
“Do you think Janette Bittiner is capable of murder?” asked Odelia, now putting her cards on the table.
Father Reilly looked startled at this.“Janette? A killer? Oh, no. Absolutely not. Janette may be a gossip and a busybody, but she’s harmless.” He shifted uncomfortably on his hard wooden chair, which as I could see from my vantage position on the stone floor didn’t even have a cushion. “The only person I can think of with thewherewithal to commit murder…” He hesitated.
“Yes?”
“Well, I’m not saying she’s responsible for what happened to Neda, mind you.”
“Just spit it out,” said Chase.
“There was an incident a couple of weeks ago. Neda had just been selected as the new head of St. Theresa Choir, and being a passionate and forceful woman, she had a tendency to direct the choir with a vigorous hand. And so when they told me what happened, frankly I wasn’t surprised.”
“What happened?”
“I think Neda was doing the Brahms,” he said as he directed his mild blue eyes heavenward, as if searching his memory for those salient details that make all the difference. “She was conducting it with a wide and powerful sweep of her arm, really driving home the importance of adhering to those delightful harmonies. And of course Amadeo always has a tendency to arrive late, and not to look where he steps.”
“Amadeo Larobski?”
“Indeed. Amadeo is one of our senior members. Pushing seventy now. Not the best voice in the chorus, but we like him, even though I have had to ask him several times now not to sing too loud, as he sings so terribly out of tune he distracts the others.”
“What happened to Amadeo?” asked Chase, an edge to his voice. Chase is a patient man, but even a patient man can be pushed to the brink when the interviewee is intent on taking the scenic route before coming to the point, if indeed there even is a point.
“Oh, she hit him, of course. Knocked him to the floor. Poor man hit his head and according to Hazel hasn’t been the same since.”
“Hazel…”
“Hazel Larobski. Amadeo’s wife. She blamed Neda. Accused her of staging an attack on her husband. When everyone could see that it was simply an unfortunate accident.”
12
After we left Father Reilly’s office, Odelia and Chase decided to grab a coffee and discuss the case, while Dooley and I decided to do the same. Not grab a coffee, I mean, but take a moment to discuss the case. And since Odelia and Chase were planning to have their coffee at the Caf? Baron which doesn’t have a street caf?, and we didn’t feel like being cooped up inside again, we wandered on and enjoyed some fresh air. Our wanderings took us in the direction of the Star hotel, where we came upon Gran and her friend Scarlett, who were sipping their drinks, seated in the outside dining area.
Gran spotted us, and beckoned us over to join them.
“What’s all this I’m hearing about Neda Hoeppner being murdered?” she asked the moment we’d hopped up on two chairs and had made ourselves comfortable.
“She was murdered by Bonnie and Clyde,” Dooley said, who was sticking to his original theory.
“Bonnie and Clyde?” asked Gran with a frown.
“You remember. From Friday’s episode of General Hospital. Nurse Bauer and Doctor Adolf murdered Bonnie Bauer’s competitor for the position of head nurse.”
“I remember,” said Gran. “But why would Nurse Bauer murder Neda?”
“Not Nurse Bauer,” said Dooley with a laugh. “Yoko Bricknell and her boss Bill Bouillabaisse. It’s the same thing, Gran, only instead of head nurse, Yoko wanted to become choir director, and since Neda was standing in her way, she killed her.”
“Huh,” said Gran, and quickly translated Dooley’s frankly outrageous theory for her friend, who unfortunately can’t speak our language. Though recently Scarlett has been correctly interpreting some of the things we say. My guess is that she’s so in tune with Gran that a few words come to her from time to time. The miracle of intuition, you know.
“I don’t think Yoko Bricknell is capable of a thing like that,” said Scarlett, wasting no time refuting Dooley’s theory.
“You know that girl?” asked her friend.
“Oh, sure. I used to work at Bill’s restaurant from time to time, and Yoko was my colleague. That girl is so talented. She’s an artist,” she explained.
“An artist?” asked Dooley, who seemed surprised that Yoko wasn’t a nurse in her spare time.
“She paints,” Scarlett explained. “And she’s pretty good, too. And none of that modern stuff either. She paints portraits, and does a very nice job. She’s painted my portrait. It’s hanging in my living room. Above the mantel.”
“Yoko painted that?” asked Gran.
“She’s good, isn’t she?”
“Sheis good,” Gran admitted. “So maybe I should ask her to paint my portrait. I don’t think anyone has ever painted me before. And then I could give it to Tex as a present. He can hang it in his bedroom. I’m sure he’d like that.”
Not even in my wildest dreams could I imagine Tex being excited about having a portrait of his mother-in-law in his bedroom, but then who am I to speak for Odelia’s father?
“So if Yoko didn’t do it, who did?” asked Gran. She turned to me. “Any other suspects?”
“Well, there’s Janette Bittiner,” I told her. “She was holding a grudge against Neda, for stealing a job she felt was owed her. And there’s also Raban Pacoccha, Neda’s gardener, who, at least according to Neda’s secretary, is a drug addict, and always in need of some ready cash to fund his unhealthy and expensive habit. And we just heard from Father Reilly that a woman named Hazel Larobski was upset with Neda for hitting her husband Amadeo over the head with her conductor’s baton and causing permanent damage.”
“Permanent damage, my ass,” Gran scoffed. “Amadeo has been a fruit loop for as long as I’ve known him. That blow to the head he received from Neda didn’t do any damage.”
“Oh, I remember that,” said Scarlett, nodding. “Hazel made a big fuss about that, didn’t she?”
“A big fuss about nothing.” Gran wagged her finger. “You know what we should do?”
“No, what?” asked her friend, as she brought her cappuccino to her bright-red lips and took a dainty sip. As usual, Scarlett was dressed to impress, in roll-up denim shorts and a tank top, covered with a nice blazer, while her friend wore her usual tracksuit.
“We should stake out Neda’s place tonight.”
“But… what’s the point of staking out a place when the owner is dead?”
“A killer always returns to the scene of the crime, Scarlett,” said Gran, stabbing a sharp bony finger in her friend’s shoulder. “It’s a law of nature. So if we stake out that place tonight, we will catch Neda’s killer, it’s as simple as ABC.”
“You really think so?” said Scarlett, who didn’t look entirely convinced.
“Sure! We can’t miss. Her killer will return, and we’ll be there waiting.”