"What about a bank? Or a student loan?" he asked.
"Banks all want collateral, and I don't have anything except my car. They told me it's not worth enough. And the schools, they discriminate against me because of my age," she said. She sounded mad about it.
"It sounds like you were running out of options," Ken said leadingly. If being friendly didn't work, he'd try making her angry.
"I didn't do it!" Jeanine was practically shouting now. "I
told
you, I was at the goddamned bingo hall. If I could've just hit on the big game I'd have won $500 and that would've been a down payment."
Ken pushed. Maybe if she got mad enough she'd let something slip. "But that wouldn't have been enough to pay for the whole class, you'd still need more money."
"Well, I damn sure didn't shoot Charles to get it!" Jeanine glared at him defiantly. "Talk to that little hussy he married,
she's
got motive. She probably gets more money than I do, anyway."
"We're certainly looking at Mrs. Greene very closely," he said meaningfully. "Though if you'll remember she was talking to the police in her own home
at the time of the murder
."
"So she didn't pull the trigger herself," Jeanine retorted. "Doesn't mean she wasn't behind it. Clarissa took him for everything she could when she divorced him, she might've decided this was the ultimate revenge."
"We're taking that into consideration too," Ken said. "But she has a whole country club as an alibi."
"And what about that grouchy neighbor, what's his face, the asshole that made a big fuss at the party. Charles says he's a real stick-in-the-mud, always complaining about something."
"I've got him on my list, though you'd think he'd have shot Mr. Greene at the house," Ken replied.
"Then there's that other salesman fellow, don't remember the name, Charles said he was trying to horn in on the Big Bixby Deal," Jeanine was really warmed up by now.
"I've already talked to him. He was giving the secretary trouble when your brother was killed," Ken told her. "Anyone else you'd like to accuse?"
"You're not taking me seriously!" Jeanine sounded hurt. "I'm not gonna sit here and listen to this bullshit, I'm going back to work."
Jeanine spoiled her dramatic exit by catching her foot on a chair leg and nearly falling. She'd left her empty coffee cup on the table, too.
* * * *
Gracie was on her way to class when Tina stopped her in the hall.
"I need to talk to you," Tina said.
Gracie would've preferred not to be seen in Tina's company. "Sorry, I'm late for class," she said as she kept on walking.
Tina caught up and grabbed Gracie's arm. "Give your brother a message for me," she said.
Gracie stopped and shook Tina's hand off. "What is it?" she asked.
"Just tell him he owes me, and he'd better pay up," Tina said in a menacing voice.
"What is this, a gangster movie?" Gracie laughed, she couldn't help herself. People didn't really talk like that, did they?
Tina made a disgusted face. "Just tell him, OK?"
"Why should I?" Gracie retorted.
"Because he's not at school today, and I want what he owes me," Tina replied.
"What does he owe you?" The words were out of Gracie's mouth before she could stop them. Why did she care?
"Nothin'
you
could pay. A couple of joints, if you must know," Tina said haughtily.
"You should've gotten them
before
you did him any favors," Gracie said.
"Yeah, well, I haven't
done
it yet, Miss Smarty Pants. Remind him of that when you talk to him."
"I doubt very much that I'll see Justin in the next few days," Gracie said, starting to walk off again.
Tina stayed where she was, but raised her voice so Gracie could hear. "You tell him if he wants me to say I went to lunch with him he has to pay me first."
Gracie stopped and turned back to stare at Tina.
"What?
Why would he want you to say that?"
"Beats the hell out of me," Tina replied. "He said he wanted to make Zack jealous – but I heard Zack took that Goody Two Shoes Carrie out to lunch Tuesday, I think Justin didn't wanna look like the loser he is."
"Whatever. I'll tell him if I happen to see him." Gracie shook her head as she walked off. Zoo Time, indeed. She couldn't care less about their love lives.
After listening to the sister's accusations Ken decided he did want to talk to the grumpy neighbor. Not that he really thought the man was a suspect, but a complainer often noticed details no one else did. He called, but got voice mail and left a message. The widow still wasn't answering her phone either.
That pretty much left the Nutty Professor. He'd referred to himself as Greene's best friend, maybe he had some insights. Ken drove to the college and found the professor's office. The door was open so he knocked on the door frame to get the attention of the man sitting at a desk stacked high with papers.
Bill was working on the computer and didn't even look up, just said, "Come on in and have a seat. Be with you in a sec."
"Professor Conover? It's Lieutenant Freeman, we met the other night at Mr. Greene's home," Ken said.
Bill looked up with a slightly surprised look on his face. "Oh, hi Lieutenant." He stood and offered his hand. "How're you doing?"
"I'd be better if I could get a lead on this case," Ken replied. "I'm trying to get a handle on what kind of man Mr. Greene was, maybe that'll help me turn up a suspect. You said you were his best friend, what was he like?
"Charles was a likeable guy in many ways," Bill told him as they both sat down. "But he did have a dark side."
"Like what, exactly?" Ken asked.
"For starters he liked pretty women," Bill explained. "He liked to get them in bed, then move on to the next one. It was a weakness, he couldn't seem to help himself."
"I've heard he cheated on both wives," Ken commented. "Did he stick to single women?"
"Absolutely not!" Bill replied. "He didn't care if he – or
they
- were married.
Are you thinking maybe a jealous husband shot him? I suppose it's possible."
"Sounds like that might be hard to track down. Do you happen to know the names of any of his lady friends?"
"Lieutenant, I don't even think
Charles
knew their names!" Bill said. "They weren't friends, they were conquests."
"Gotcha. You said 'for starters' - what else comprised his dark side?"
"He liked to make a buck, any way he could. I doubt all his deals were legal, and he'd double-cross a partner if it made him more money. Understand Lieutenant, I'm reading between the lines here. Charles never told me the details of his schemes so I don't know anything specific. There are probably a thousand reasons why someone might want to get even with him."
"That all jives with what I've learned about him. Tell me, do you own a gun, Professor?" Ken asked.
"Yes, I do," Bill replied steadily. "A .38 caliber revolver. Charles bought a matched pair a few years ago, and gave one of them to me. I've got a class in 15 minutes, but I'd be happy to meet an officer at the house over my lunch break and turn it over to him for testing."
"Thanks, I'll set that up," Ken said. "It's identical to Mr. Greene's? At least we'll know the make and model of the missing gun. Just out of curiosity Professor, what is it exactly that you do in that locked lab?"
"The easy answer is that it's a bunch of 'Science Guy' stuff," Bill said. "Do you want the specific details?"
"No, they wouldn't mean anything to me, I don't have the background to understand them," Ken said. "I understand your need for privacy, but it's a little hard to believe you'd stay in there for hours at a time."
"Do you think I snuck out somehow?" Bill asked. "Rita was right there at the information counter, she'd have seen me leave."
"She's got work to do, she doesn't have to stay at her desk. But I had an office ask around and no one remembers seeing you during that afternoon."
"Because I was in the lab!" Bill replied with a smile. He shifted in his chair so he could work his hand into his pants pocket. He pulled out a key ring and unlocked a desk drawer. Then he took out a thick notebook, flipped through it, and handed it to Ken.
"Here's my lab notes from the Tuesday in question," he said.
Ken took the book and looked over the page. Conover had been right, a bunch of science stuff Ken couldn't make heads or tails of. The details of each experiment began with a time, the last entry being 4:30. Ken idly flipped through the notebook, but all the pages looked the same to him.
"It certainly looks like you were busy," Ken said, handing the book back. "Thanks for your time, Professor."
"If I think of anything in particular about any of Charles' deals, I'll let you know Lieutenant."
George Thompson, the grumpy neighbor, returned Ken's call. George had been showing a house nearby and suggested they meet there so Ken drove over. George was a short, heavy man in his mid 50's. He wore expensive casual clothes tailored and coordinated to make them look them look elegant, even on his squat frame. The house was in an expensive neighborhood; Ken didn't inquire as to the asking price, he knew it was out of his price range. He was surprised to find it fully furnished.
"I thought you said the owners had moved out, didn't they take their furniture with them?" Ken asked.
"It's staged for sale," George replied.
"Staged? Like set dressing?"
"Exactly!" George said happily. "I rent the furniture, and keep a collection of accessories - vases and artwork and such – so that each house seems fresh."
"Doesn't that get expensive?" Ken asked.
"It's well worth it to make the sale. It's easier for people to imagine living in a house if they're not looking at four bare walls and a carpet," George explained.
"Well, I guess you know your job," Ken admitted. "And I guess you know I've come to talk to you about Mr. Greene's murder. You said you were home all day Tuesday but didn't see or hear anything. You've obviously got a good eye for detail; now that you've had some time to think about it have you remembered anything?"
"I'm afraid not, Lieutenant. My house is situated next to the side of Charles' house that includes the garage, which extends out from the front of his house. So all I can really see is the driveway and front lawn. There's a privacy fence between our two back yards, and it does its job well. There's a couple of knotholes you can peek through, but not from inside the house of course."
That statement gave Ken an idea. Sometimes in this business if you threw out a wild accusation you'd learn a lot from the response. "Mrs. Greene is a pretty young woman. Did you peek at her while she was out for a swim? You're often home during the day, maybe you'd meet her out there?"
George looked astonished. "Absolutely
not
! I'm no Peeping Tom, and I'm not exactly her type."
Ken tended to agree with that, but you didn't get anywhere without asking questions. "So, what
is
her type?"
"Women," George said succinctly.
"But she's married," Ken reminded him.
"Lieutenant, you and I both know that love had nothing to do with that marriage," Thompson said. "She was using him, and he was fool enough to let her. It's an old story. One day not long after he moved her in I heard a lot of noise from their yard, giggling and shrieking. I thought maybe the boys had lured some girls out there, and just wanted to make sure the girls weren't being taken advantage of against their wills."
"Uh huh,"
Ken thought.
"I can tell you I was quite surprised at what I saw, and it was more than just a couple of young women going for a skinny-dip. Her and that plain-Jane friend of hers. Now I'm not one to care what two consenting adults do in the privacy of their own home, but there are children in this neighborhood, Lieutenant. I didn't appreciate their carrying on outside for anyone to see," he explained.
"Did you tell Mr. Greene?" Ken asked.
"No. Frankly I didn't care what he thought. It wouldn't have done any good, anyway. The man never did anything about anything I talked to him about."
"I understand you complained about the noise from the party on Saturday," Ken said.
"Yes, I did. The music was so loud I couldn't hear myself think. I asked him to turn it down, but he just laughed at me. Pardon me, Sir, but I didn't think the police would do anything about it. They do try to stay out of petty squabbles. So I went to visit my sister. At least her kids are well-behaved."
"I presume by that remark that you're referring to Justin Greene," Ken suggested.
"I certainly am! The boy is disrespectful, he's got a smart-mouth attitude." Thompson suddenly seemed to have an idea. "I think he smokes marijuana out behind the pool house. Can you arrest him for that?" he asked hopefully.
"I'll look into the allegation, Mr. Thompson," Ken told him. "Tell me, do you own a gun?"
"No, Sir, I don't. Guns are dangerous to have around," George said.
"I don't suppose you have any idea who might've killed Mr. Greene?" Ken asked.
"None whatsoever. I'm sorry the man was killed, but I can't say that I'll miss him," George replied.
"Well, thanks very much for your time, I'll be on my way now," Ken said.
"Jen, Honey, wake up! We fell asleep afterwards, I guess." Cindy rolled over and put her hand on Jennifer's shoulder, shaking her gently.
"Ummm," Jennifer replied sleepily. "I don't wanna wake up. I don't wanna, like, do
anything
. Just lie here with you forever." He eyes drifted closed again.
"That would be nice, but I've got to go to work," Cindy told her.
Jennifer opened one eye and peered at Cindy. "Couldn't you just stay here with me again today?"
"I'd really like to, but I've taken off two days in a row now. I hate to say it, but we need the money. It'll be months before you get your inheritance, and we still don't know how much you'll get." Cindy sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched preparatory to standing up.
"But, I mean, I've got the credit card. We can, like, charge everything on it now that Charles won't be checking the statements," Jennifer said.
"That's not a good idea, Dear," Cindy replied. "The
police
might check, and we need to keep up appearances a little while longer."
Jennifer smiled sarcastically. "Can you imagine their faces when they learn the truth? But then it won't, you know, make any difference. There's nothing they can do. I can't say I'll miss that little shit Justin, but Gracie was always nice to me."
"Did Justin stay in the house?" Cindy asked.
"How should
I
know!" Jennifer laughed. "I spent the last two nights here with you. He probably stayed there and got stoned. The house probably reeks of, like, grass by now."
"Don't you think you should play the concerned step-mom and check up on the little tyke?" Cindy inquired.
"Don't care," Jennifer answered. "I'm not sure I ever want to go back to that house! I mean, what if the burglar comes back again? I wouldn't feel safe sleeping there alone, and, like, it might look funny if you moved in."
"Well, it's going to start looking funny if you
don't
go back," Cindy said. "You haven't been answering your phone, you don't know what's going on. Doubtless the police have been trying to get hold of you. You can tell everyone you were nervous and upset and needed to get away for a bit. Surely they can understand that."
"Are you throwing me out?" Jennifer asked, her smile showing she meant it jokingly.