Murder Under Cover (30 page)

“Who’s calling you on a Saturday morning?” I asked, feeling a little grumpy about the distraction.

He glanced at the screen. “Jaglom.”

I grimaced. That was not the answer I’d expected to hear. For the past few hours, I’d managed to forget we were still embroiled in the throes of a vicious murder spree, still searching for a flash drive that too many people seemed ready to kill for.

And suddenly I remembered that Galina was free and Robin was in danger. Goose bumps covered my skin and I was chilled to the bone.

Time slowed as I watched Derek run his hand through his thick, dark hair in frustration. He said very little, leaving me to wonder what in the world Inspector Jaglom was telling him.

Derek ended the brief call. “They tracked down Galina again.”

“Good,” I said, encouraged by the news. “I hope they threw her back in jail.”

“No. Unfortunately, they found her dead.”

“At least I wasn’t the one who found the body this time,” I muttered, then wanted to swallow my tongue. I rubbed my face in disgust. “That was a self-centered, awful thing to say, wasn’t it?”

Derek slipped his hand around my neck and pulled me close. “Understandable, though, love. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“But a woman is dead, and that’s terrible. And we’re no closer to the truth than we were a week ago.” I buried my face in his shoulder briefly, then looked up at him. “But I’m still glad I didn’t find her body.”

“You do have an odd habit of attracting police attention, so it’s perfectly natural that you’d be relieved in this case.”

“I’m just tired,” I said, enjoying the feel of his soft sweater against my skin.

“You ladies were up late last night.”

“Sergio was regaling us with restaurant horror stories.”

“Did Shiva enjoy herself?”

“I think she did.” I was grateful for the change of subject. “She and Vinnie hit it off, which I knew they would. And Robin kept interrupting her whenever she tried to launch into one of her fabulous stories.”

“Why?”

“Because Robin thinks Shiva is a narcissist. She brings everything back to herself. Robin’s heard all the stories and didn’t want her to be the only center of attention. It’s an ongoing mother-daughter thing for them.”

Derek nodded. “I suppose that’s somewhat normal, but was it uncomfortable for you?”

“Not at all,” I said. “Shiva was on her best behavior and even made a little joke of it. And she was captivated by my workshop, so that was fun. She wanted to see inside every cabinet and kept marveling about how well organized everything was. Wanted to know every aspect of how I’d taken the Kama Sutra apart, which was a little weird. I never like to reveal that stuff to anyone. We must’ve spent an hour in the workshop. Sergio and everyone finally went home and Robin dozed on the couch until Shiva was ready to leave.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s nice that she took such an interest.”

“It was. To be honest, I was surprised that Shiva came with Robin in the first place. They have never been close.”

“You said she was somewhat neglectful of Robin while you were growing up. Perhaps she’s making up for lost time.”

“Maybe. I think the attack on Robin really shook up Shiva.”

“Yes,” he said. “It must’ve shaken her badly for her to leave her home in India and come all the way back here.”

I studied him carefully. “You almost sound sarcastic.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I don’t like that look on your face.”

He gave me a twisted smile. “I’m sorry, darling, but it’s the only face I’ve got.”

“And it’s a very pretty face,” I said, patting his cheek. “But the expression on it has me curious.”

“You mean this one?” He made an exaggerated frown that added lots of wrinkles to his forehead.

“Yes, that one,” I said, laughing again. “What was that for?”

He merely smiled.

“Wait. Now I get it. You don’t trust Shiva?”

He held up both hands in a gesture that indicated he was weighing all the facts.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“We’ve been assuming that Rajiv has all the answers, but Shiva had a hand in this, too.” He considered for a moment, then said, “She gave the book to Robin, packed inside that satchel, right? Can you show it to me again?”

“Sure.” He followed me out to my workshop, where I opened the cupboard and pulled out the bag I’d stashed there.

We sat at the worktable as Derek searched every inch of the leather satchel again, running his hand carefully along the long strap and delving into the outer pocket. As he turned the bag inside out, he said, “Tell me again about the night Robin came to see you with the Kama Sutra.”

“Again?”

“We’re missing something.” He sat back in the high chair. “I’d appreciate it if you would go through that evening step by step.”

Intrigued now myself, I went through it all again. “She came inside, she brought wine, and I ordered pizza. The delivery guy came. We had pizza and wine and talked. She told me about Alex. Then we went to my workshop so she could show me the book. I took it out of the satchel and unwrapped it, and there it was in all its glory.”

“Did you do any work on the book right then?”

“No.”

“Did you leave it somewhere?”

“I left it out on the table.” I laid my palm down. “Right here.”

“Did anyone else see it?”

I had to stop and think. It had been two weeks since Robin first brought me the book. So much had happened since then. “I remember you came home from Kuala Lumpur the next day.”

“Yes.”

“Robin’s date with Alex was that night. And very early the next day, she showed up here all bloody.”

“I remember that, of course. But before that, did anyone else see the book? Did you take it out of the house to show Ian? Or someone at the book arts center, perhaps?”

“No. Ian saw it later, but . . . Oh, wait. Jeremy and Sergio stopped by the night Robin was here. Sergio brought cookies.”

Derek lifted an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you didn’t remember the cookies sooner.”

“Me, too. They were really good cookies.”

“Yes, I’ve tried them. Heavenly. Continue.”

“I showed them the book and we all giggled at the pictures. Sergio was interested, but Jeremy was . . . Jeremy wanted . . .”

“What did Jeremy want?”

“Crap.”

“Crap?” he prompted.

“Damn it. Jeremy wanted something to wear for his performance. He took the scarf.”

“What scarf?”

“The scarf. The scarf the book was wrapped in.”

Derek grabbed my shoulders. “What scarf? What wrap?”

“You’re going to kill me.”

“I couldn’t do that. I’d miss you too much. But if you don’t spit it out right now I’ll—”

I broke away and paced. “Jeremy wanted some crazy accessories for his street fair performance and we gave him . . .” I blinked, turned to Derek.

“You gave him . . .”

“The scarf. A long, flowing Indian scarf that Shiva wrapped the book in.”

“But it would be impossible to disguise the flash drive in a scarf.”

“No, no. It had these big fat beads and chunks of mirror and little animals and sequins sewn into the material and hanging off the fringes. It was very ethnic, and frankly, it was an ugly mess. Robin thought it was awful, but Shiva had told her—”

“What happened to the scarf?”

“Jeremy has it.”

He took a deep breath. “I interrupted you. What did Shiva tell Robin?”

I had to stop and breathe, too. “She told Robin to give the book to me and keep the scarf for herself. But it wasn’t Robin’s style. It was old and dirty and . . .”

“And . . .” he encouraged.

I buried my head in my hands. “And a tiny flash drive could easily be sewn into it or hidden inside one of the brass beads.”

I ran to the kitchen and grabbed my house key. After I locked the front door, we ran down the hall to Jeremy’s place. Derek pounded on their door, but there was no answer.

I checked my watch. “It’s after eleven. They must have left for the street fair.”

“Let’s go.”

On the way to the Castro District, I called Robin, trying to keep my tone casual. “Is your mother there with you?”

“Yeah, do you want to talk to her?”

“No, just wanted to make sure she had a good time last night.”

“She had a blast. She was so wired when we got home that she couldn’t sleep. She made a bunch of phone calls to her friends, then went out for a long walk. It was well after one o’clock and I was a little worried, even though my neighborhood is safe. I fell asleep and don’t even know what time she got home.”

“Interesting.” I aimed a glance at Derek. “She’s still coming to the street fair, right?”

“Of course she’s coming,” Robin said. “She’s excited about it. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you in person. We’re already on our way.”

“Parking is going to be a nightmare. Be prepared to leave your car a few blocks away and walk. We can meet at Falafel Eddie’s.”

I checked my watch. “Okay, we’ll meet you there at noon. Bring your cell phone. I’ll call if I don’t see you.”

“You sound a little tense, Brooklyn.”

“Derek has some ideas about who might’ve killed Alex.”

She was silent for a moment, then said, “I’ll see you at noon.”

I hung up and looked accusingly at Derek. “You didn’t trust Shiva from the start.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said, evading the issue.

“When, then?” But I thought for a moment and had my answer. “No, it was right from the start. I never asked you why you stayed outside talking to Gabriel when Shiva first arrived at my mom’s house.”

“He thought she looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her.”

“Of course she would look familiar to a guy,” I said cynically. “She looks like a well-aged Angelina Jolie.”

“That’s not why,” he said, grinning wryly. “I simply thought it was suspicious that she showed up so soon after Robin ran into trouble.”

“Everything is suspicious to you,” I grumbled.

He shrugged but said nothing, confirming my statement.

I sighed. “I guess I should be glad about that, seeing as how you’re usually right. But I still can’t believe Shiva would deliberately put her own daughter in jeopardy. I also don’t believe she’s capable of murder, for God’s sake. There has to be some logical reason for all of this. Maybe her friend Rajiv instigated the whole thing.”

“Maybe.”

But then something hit me. I told him the full conversation I’d just finished with Robin, specifically the part where Shiva had gone out walking late last night. Derek listened without commenting, but it was clear what he was thinking.

Galina was killed sometime last night.

 

It was quarter to twelve when Derek found a place to park. Before leaving the car, he called Inspector Jaglom and told him his suspicions. He asked if they knew Galina’s time of death. “Sometime around two o’clock this morning?” he repeated for my benefit.

My shoulders slumped. That was around the time Shiva had been out “walking around,” or so she’d told her daughter.

“This is all circumstantial and may lead nowhere,” Derek warned Jaglom near the end of their brief conversation. “But I’d appreciate some police presence.”

A moment later, he ended the call. Reaching across me and into his glove compartment, he pulled out his gun and checked that the bullet thingie was good to go.

“What is that thing called?” I asked, morbidly fascinated.

“This is a magazine,” he said, holding it up. “It contains bullets. It goes right in here.” He shoved it into the handle. Then he pulled out a cylindrical piece of metal. “This is a suppressor. We don’t want to cause a panic with any loud gunshots.”

“Oh, hell, no,” I said, rolling my eyes. But then I put my hand on his knee to get his attention. “Derek, you’re not actually planning on using that in this crowd, are you?”

He touched my arm. “Darling, you know I would never endanger an innocent bystander.”

I met his gaze. “I know you wouldn’t. Just had to, you know, check. Guess I’m a little freaked out.”

“With good reason.” He slipped the gun into the holster he wore under his jacket, shoved the suppressor in his pants pocket, then winked at me. “Let’s go to the fair.”

Because of the mass of people, it took us more than fifteen minutes to make it to Falafel Eddie’s halfway down Castro Street, right in the heart of the fair. As we walked, Derek used his cell to call Inspector Jaglom and tell him what was going on, letting him know that we would be at the performance-art platform within the hour.

Robin was standing on the sidewalk, using both hands to finish one of Eddie’s specials. “Sorry. I was starving, so I went ahead and ate.”

“Where’s your mom?” I said.