City of Fear, page 10
Well, he’s got to come back, right? Again, she heard this as Clarence’s voice, almost as if he were coaching her along in his head.
She thought he would need to come back, but maybe not necessarily in this same direction. But she figured she’d play the odds and stay where she was. It was clear from the way he’d been walking that he was up to something. And she suddenly found herself very interested in what he might have been carrying in that briefcase. It certainly did seem like something strange to carry in this part of town.
To do her best to not look suspicious, Ava purchased a newspaper from a newsie on the corner. When she gave the kid a nickel tip, he looked as if he’ just discovered a pot of gold. She sat on a worn and dirty bench, pretending to read the paper but really just looking over the top of it in the direction of where she’d lost track of Kelvin.
When he reappeared roughly five minutes later, she almost didn’t recognize him. He had changed clothes and was still holding the briefcase. The clothes he now wore were much more common—not quite those of a laborer, but certainly not something his father would have approved of.
He walked straight ahead from the way he was coming, so when Ava stood up and tucked her newspaper under her arm, she had to take a right to follow him. Kelvin headed down a mostly deserted street that was filled with a slight stench of sewage and a smell that was almost like burning tobacco. He walked to the end of this block and simply waited. He stood by a street sign and for a moment, Ava wondered if he’d somehow gotten lost in his own town.
But then another figure appeared. It was a woman, coming from behind a building to the right, further down the street. As she approached him, Kelvin turned and faced her. He still seemed slightly nervous but not nearly as twitchy and paranoid as he’d seemed before he’d made his quick stop to change clothes. The woman closed the distance between them and greeted him with a kiss. It was not just a little nip on the cheek; they kissed passionately, but briefly. Her arms went around his waist with the sort of familiarity that suggested they’d been there many times before.
The pair spoke briefly and then Kelvin took her hand. The fact that he was in a relationship wasn’t a surprise. Kelvin was young and relatively good-looking, a cake eater if Ava had ever seen one. But he’d changed clothes for her—and in a way that severely downgraded his usual wardrobe. Something didn’t add up here…
She had to take a risk and get closer. She hurried her pace, passing by a scant few others walking along the street. Still holding her newspaper, she at least had a way to quickly appear as if she was just a usual chick, going about her day if it came to that. But as she closed the distance to fifteen feet, and then even to ten, it was clear that Kelvin Pickett’s complete and total concentration was on this woman.
Ava was close enough to hear fragments of the conversation. He sounded distressed as he spoke with her, and Ava assumed he was maybe venting about the death of his sister. Yet as she heard more and more fragments, Ava started to understand that he wasn’t talking about his sister, but about his future. She was not able to hear every single word, but she heard more than enough to form a new opinion.
“…think I was so upset that…father had his eye on her to take his role. But he never…in the first place. I don’t want the damned company and…or be the sole heir. Does that make me a bad person? Does that make me…understand it?”
So he truly never had any desire to run or own his father’s company, Ava thought. Based on everything he said, there was no reason he’d want his father’s business or would have any sort of gain or advantage to his sister being out of the picture.
His lady friend responded with a soft, sympathetic voice. “If you think…of your…and a normal life.”
“That’s all I want.” It was the loudest he’s spoken since the two had met.
With this bit of information, Ava stopped walking and let them get farther ahead. After a few more steps, she decided to let them go—to leave them to their privacy. Yes, the mystery of why he’d changed clothes before he met with this woman was strange indeed. Perhaps he was trying to live two lives at once to make her and his family happy at the same time.
If that were the case, Ava wished him the best. In the meantime, she thought she had more than enough to go back to Frank. Kelvin Pickett just wanted to live a normal life with a girl that was in a totally different societal class. George Pickett might see that as a crime, but Ava Gold certainly did not.
With enough evidence to rule Kelvin out, Ava turned around and started back up the dusty street, wondering how hard it might be to find a cab in this part of town. And also wondering what piece of this case she wasn’t yet able to see.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
She lucked out on finding a cab. All it took was a young buck staring her up and down and a quick flash of her smile. He’d not only pointed her to where a cab would be, but also offered to pay for it. She declined and when she left Wyatt River, she left a rather disappointed young man behind.
She spent the drive back to the city thinking about the sort of measures a man like Kelvin Pickett would have to take in order to live the proper, polished life his father expected while also trying to prove to his dame that he wanted no part of that life—that he only wanted her and the trappings of normalcy that came with it. It also made her wonder if there might even be a small part of Kelvin that was sad about his sister’s passing only because there would now be more pressure on him to take up the mantle Penny would have taken.
Rather than head back to the precinct, Ava opted to take the cab back to Fifth Avenue. She and Frank had parted ways on rather heated terms so they’d not made plans on where to meet up again, but she figured if he wasn’t still there, she’d place a call to the station and leave a message for him.
It was nearing three in the afternoon when the cab dropped her off on the other side of the street from the Pickett residence. Just like back in Wyatt River, the city still contained a bit of a pleasant earthy aroma from the recent rainfall. She approached the front door and just as she reached out to knock, a sudden memory came back to her. She thought of the little smudge she’d found in Penny’s room—the smudge that looked almost like oil. She wondered if Frank had asked around about that today.
She knocked on the door and, as seemed to be the routine, it was answered by Evelyn. There was a rather somber look on her face but she managed a smile for Ava. “Detective Gold, is that right?”
“That’s right. Is my partner here, by any chance? Frank Wimbly?”
“He is. I believe he’s in the parlor, speaking with one of the women that was hired to help design Penny’s dress.”
“And he’s been here all day?”
“A few hours. Mr. Pickett arrived home to find him here and was quite upset but he’s calmed down since then.” She then cast a look at Ava that seemed to say: But to keep it quiet, maybe you should stay out of his sight.
It took some reorienting, but Ava managed to recall which of the large rooms was the parlor. Walking that way, she could already hear Frank speaking. She followed his voice and paused at the parlor entrance just as Frank finished asking a question. The woman sitting on the seat on the other side of the room was older, maybe in her late fifties, and dressed as if she were going overseas to meet the Queen. The dress she was wearing probably cost more than Ava would make in a year.
“…before or after you arrived?” Frank was asking.
“No, sir,” the well-dressed woman said. “I spoke with Mrs. Pickett shortly before I left, but that was all.”
“And there were no cross words?”
“No, sir. If anything, it was quite positive. She was very happy with the dress I’d brought her.”
Frank finally turned slightly to his right and saw Ava. He then turned back to the other woman and nodded politely. “Thank you for your time. This has been very helpful.”
When the woman got up, she looked very happy to be done with this task. Passing by Ava, the woman barely even glanced her way. Ava walked into the parlor and sat where the other woman had been sitting. Without the frills and lace of the woman’s dress, the chair looked much larger.
“The dress maker?” Ava asked.
“Yeah, that was her. I also spoke with the baker the Pickett’s hired and the interior decorator—everyone that had been in and out of the house yesterday morning before it was discovered that Penny had been murdered. And I got nothing of use. The only thing worth mentioning is that the interior designer was quite upset when George suggested he’ll not be paying for their planning, seeing as how there won’t be a party.” He reclined back a bit more on the little sofa he was perched on and sighed. “You? Anything worth mentioning out in Wyatt River?”
“Yes,” she said. But before she could go on, she knew she had to do something. Seeing Frank so disappointed to have no breaks or leads after half a day of conversations made her realize that he was just as invested in this as she was. And this morning, she’d lost her temper at him because of her own hang-ups: the way being in this part of New York City made her feel, as well as the drama back at home with the threats from the mob and her failure to find anything new about the man that had likely killed Clarence. She’d taken it out on Frank, and only because he’d been trying to watch out for her.
“You okay there, Gold?”
She didn’t realize she was taking so long to form the right words. She’d never been very good at apologizing. “I think I need to apologize for this morning. If we’re going to be successful on this case, we need to communicate well. This morning, I let personal matters cloud my mood and I lashed out at you. I hate to admit it, but…I was wrong to do it.”
Frank waved the comment off with his hand, as if he were swatting away a bug. “Not a big deal at all.” He took off his derby hat, wiped his brow with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, and placed the hat back on his head. He did not appear to be sweating, which made Ava assume it was some sort of nervous habit he’d picked up over the years. “I can’t imagine the stress you must be under. I mean, to be fair, you asked for it. But, still…you’re my partner and I did it to support you as such. I just ask that you do the same for me from here on out.”
“Of course,” she said. There was a fleeting moment where she nearly felt the words coming to her tongue—to tell him about what was going on with the mob and how she had visited a woman in the hospital that may have very well been attacked by the same man that had killed Clarence. But she held it all back. That was a topic for another time. They were here to find Penny Pickett’s killer, not rummage through her personal demons.
“So…Wyatt River?”
“I was able to follow Kelvin when he left his home and found out a bit of news.” She told him about how she followed Kelvin Pickett into the poorer part of the town and how he’d made a quick stop somewhere along the way to change clothes. When she got to the part about meeting with the woman and the bits of conversation she’d picked up, a look of disappointment crossed Frank’s face.
“Why the frown?” she asked. “Isn’t it a good thing to prove someone is innocent?”
“The easy answer is ‘yes.’ But not when you’re quickly eliminating every single potential suspect on a very short list.”
“Have you been to Penny’s room today?” Ava asked.
“Just a quick peek in. Nothing extensive.”
“I think I’d like to have another look. If we’re not having any luck with finding anything from people, maybe there’s something else. Like that streak of grease, for instance.”
“Might as well go on up, then. And if we can do it and get out without having to speak to George, even better. I’ve just about had my fill of that man for one day.”
They walked up together, Ava noticing right away that Frank was allowing her to take the lead. Going up the stairs seemed different today. Without the wailing of Millie Pickett or the tension of knowing George was watching her every move, it almost felt like they were actually wanted and being of some use.
She found the room the same as it was the day before. Already, it had the feel of a place of loss, a place that would hold great reverence once day. Nothing had been touched, nothing had been moved. Ava walked over to the far wall, standing in the corner. She looked down to where she’d seen the odd smudge the day before and could not find it. Thinking perhaps it was harder to see now that the sun was coming through the window at a different angle, Ava tried a few different positions but still did not see it. Getting on her hands and knees and running her finger across the area she’d seen it revealed the same thing: the smudge was gone.
“It’s been cleaned up,” Ava said, looking up to Frank.
“Are you serious?”
“It’s gone.” She got to her feet and looked around the room, puzzled. “I know I didn’t give specific instructions not to alter anything in the room yesterday. Did you?”
“No. But it would be common sense, right? Good Lord…do you think it was cleaned up intentionally?”
Ava shrugged, still looking at the spot on the floor. “It didn’t seem like a big deal yesterday. I just thought it was maybe some sort of makeup or maybe even polish of some kind.”
“Shoe polish, maybe?” Frank asked.
Ava instantly looked to the closet on the right side of the room. She walked over to it and opened the door. Several dresses hung inside, along with a few braziers and gowns. Sitting on the floor beneath it all were six pairs of shoes. Two pair were very fancy slippers with heels—not the sort of shoe that would receive any sort of traditional polish. The others consisted of two pairs of Mary Janes and a set of traditional flappers. Their condition made it quite clear that while Penny had taken good care of her shoes, none of them had been polished recently. Ava even reached in to take them out, smelling them and confirming that they did not smell like shoe polish. She turned to Frank and shook her head.
“Well, we know George or Millie sure as hell didn’t do any cleaning,” Frank said.
Curious, Ava walked back over to the window. There were a few slight smudges around the frame and one single, small streak along the bottom. “The window hasn’t been cleaned,” she said.
Frank grinned for just a moment and then composed himself. Ava thought it might be a sign that he’d been impressed she’d even thought to look for such a thing. “So the floor was cleaned, but the window wasn’t. And if you’re a maid, wouldn’t you clean the entire room all at once?”
“I’m not sure,” Ava said. “Maybe we should find out. Did you speak with Evelyn today?”
“Yes. For about half an hour, trying to learn about the comings and goings around the house. I even grilled her hard about where she was on the night the murder occurred. She gave enough information where it’ll be very easy to check her alibis. And in the time I was here today, I never once saw her go upstairs.”
“But I’m going to assume any work she’d done in the past day or so never came up, right?”
“Right, but I did find that Evelyn isn’t the only hired help in the Pickett household. There’s also a hired chef and a valet. There had also been a second maid up until three weeks ago, when the second one quit because of her advanced age.”
“You get names for all of them?” Ava asked.
“Sure did. I might even know where to find a few of them.” He checked his watch and this time when he grinned at her, he let it stay on his face. “The evening is winding down, though. You think we should split up again?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was easy enough to locate George Pickett’s valet. As sad as it seemed, he was at the tailor’s shop, making sure George’s suit for Penny’s funeral would be properly adjusted before his daughter was put into the ground. The valet’s name was Raymond Dove, a thirty-eight year-old man that looked closer to fifty. When Ava found him at the tailor’s shop, he seemed high strung and very nervous.
She was able to identify him easily enough, by simply flashing her badge at the woman behind the counter. The reaction she got form the woman was a drastic change from what she’d been getting from the men of this city. The woman seemed almost proud of her and was more than happy to point out Mr. Pickett’s valet.
Raymond Dove was sitting on a chair along the far right wall, nervously tapping his foot on the wooden floor while he read the day’s paper. His hair was dapper and well maintained, just like the button-down shirt and black pants he wore. When Ava approached him, he looked up at her with the sort of rapt attention a man always looking over his shoulder might display.
“Are you Mr. Raymond Dove?” Ava asked.
“I am. And who’s asking?” he looked irritated that he’d been bothered but also slightly concerned.
She subtly showed her him her badge, not wanting to make a big production out of it. Raymond looked at it as if Ava had performed an amazing magic trick. “I’m Detective Ava Gold. I was hoping to ask you some questions about Penny Pickett and what happened to her.”
The statement clearly shocked him and it was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “I’m sure you can understand that we have been instructed not to discuss this matter with anyone outside of the family.”
“Even the police?” Ava pressed.
Raymond had nothing to say to that. He looked past Ava, back to the main counter as if willing George’s suit to be ready. Ava decided to continue, to keep talking as if Raymond had invited her to do so. So far, he was not striking her as the type to cause a scene or put up much of a fight.
“How long have you been working as Mr. Pickett’s valet?”
He looked nervously at her but he seemed to be one of the few men in town that respected a badge regardless of the gender of the person that was carrying it. “Going on two years now.”
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