“My God! What happened to you?” Sherry exclaimed.
Cora frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Are you kidding? You have teased hair, auburn highlights, and a sheepdog shag. You look like the retro aunt from hell.”
“Oh, come on.”
“How much did you pay?”
“A hundred and twenty bucks.”
“I could have you committed. I could get you declared non compos mentis on that haircut alone.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
Cora went in the bathroom.
Moments later, Sherry heard a shriek.
Cora stumbled out. “Oh! My! God!”
“Didn’t you look at yourself in the beauty parlor?”
“No wonder I freaked out the beach boy.”
“Beach boy?”
“Don’t start that. You’re not Japanese.”
“What?”
“Everything’s coming apart at the seams. This stupid case that doesn’t make any sense. I start to follow the leads, and they’re all in the wrong direction.”
“What do you mean?”
Cora filled Sherry in on her conversations with Reiko and Mitzi.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Reiko’s lying. Which, of course, she would be, if she’s a twotiming tramp. She’s the one person in the scenario ruthless enough to kill. Her hands are lethal weapons.”
“The guy was stabbed by a sword.”
“A samurai sword. Which, if she’s a fourth-degree black belt, she knows how to wield.”
“So maybe she’s guilty.”
“Bite your tongue!”
“What’s so bad about that?”
“Are you kidding? She’s paying the bills. I can’t unearth the evidence that hangs her, and then charge her for it.”
“That’s very ethical of you.”
“You’re in a good mood. You and Aaron patch things up?”
“Not so you could notice. He went off to the paper to work on the story.”
“Just a hint. You might want to cut him some slack. Can you really blame him for reacting to Dennis?”
“I told him to ignore him.”
“That’s like ignoring the Ebola virus.” Cora slumped down on the couch, rubbed her head. “What a mess.” Her hand touched her hair. “Oh, God! It’s shellacked down! I’ll have to comb it with a blowtorch!”
“Just wear a hat.”
“There’s no hat big enough. My hair will stick out. I’ll have to get one of those Rastafarian caps to hide my dreadlocks.”
“Dreadlocks would be an improvement.”
Cora suggested diversions for her niece that would be illegal in most states.
Sherry ignored the jibe, said, “What about this woman? Do you really think she did it?”
“No. That doesn’t mean the police won’t.”
Sherry grinned. “That would be a little embarrassing. If they charge her, would they have to let her husband out of jail?”
“Unless they can prove conspiracy.”
“Can they?”
“Of course not. Neither of them is guilty.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because they’re paying the bills.”
“I’m getting a headache,” Sherry said.
“You should talk. You still got your own hair.”
“Suppose that happened,” Sherry said. “They let her husband out and charged her, I mean.”
“Yeah?”
“Could Becky represent her?”
Cora smiled for the first time since she looked in the mirror. “Wouldn’t that be delicious. One murder, and Becky gets four fees out of it.”
“Actually, there were
two
murders,” Sherry said.
“Right. I mustn’t forget that. Even though the first one seems so detached.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, no car and no murder weapon. Granted, it’s a New York PI, but there the similarities end.”
“You think it’s just coincidence?”
“That would be a pretty big coincidence. It’s almost gotta be the same person, and that’s what makes it bad for Geisha Girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was here when it happened. The boys weren’t. At least, in theory.”
“You think they were?”
“I bet Hideki was. Aoki’s wife was up here alone, don’t you think he’d take a shot?”
“But he hadn’t checked in yet.”
“No. He’d have been commuting. Which would explain the presence of the private eye.”
“You mean he followed him here from New York? And then Hideki killed him?”
“Or Geisha Girl killed him. Or someone else entirely.”
“Like who?”
“Like Aoki.”
“You think he did?”
“Absolutely not, since he’s my client. But I can’t rule him out.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, there’s fairly good evidence he framed Hideki for the other murder. If that’s true, he’s most likely guilty of this one.”
“How does that make sense?”
“It doesn’t. But none of this makes sense. It’s all an ethereal Noh drama acted out by the spirits of the dead.”
“You can’t even justify the theory?”
“What theory?”
“That Aoki killed the first PI?”
“Sure I can. He hired him to watch his wife and Hideki. He drove up here with the PI to be on hand in case they hooked up. Hideki did, but the PI blew the surveillance and lost him. In a fit of rage, Aoki killed the PI. He drove the PI’s car to Manhattan because he was stranded in Bakerhaven with no other way to get back.”
Sherry’s eyes widened. “That’s not bad.”
“It’s not good, either. If he drove the PI’s car back to Manhattan, the cops would have found it by now. But forget the first murder. If Aoki’s the killer, then he tried to frame Hideki for the second murder. Which is ten times worse. You have to figure he hired a PI, got him out here just to kill him. Meanwhile constructed a crossword
and sudoku that would implicate Hideki. Only they
don’t
implicate Hideki because why would Hideki kill the man and then leave clues that prove he did it?”
“Arrogance,” Sherry suggested.
“What?”
“The man is so arrogant he signs his crime, taunting his accusers. Daring them to figure it out.”
“It’s a theory.” Cora grimaced. “It’s a
bad
theory, but it’s a theory.”
“Why are you wearing that hat?”
“I like this hat.”
“It’s too big for you.”
“It’s just right.”
Cora had managed to hide her hair under a ten-gallon Stetson, a keepsake from her fourth husband, Henry, the fancied cowboy and poker player. He hadn’t been much of either, but he had managed to corral a young filly from El Paso, whose name featured prominently as a corespondent in Cora’s subsequent divorce complaint. Cora had gotten the house, the horse, and the hat. It occurred to her at the time she only needed Henry’s hide to make her eligible for the 4-H Club.
“A cowboy hat?” Harper was grinning.
“Could we talk about something other than my headgear, Chief?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’ve been thinking about your prisoner.”
“Me, too. Tomorrow I gotta charge him or let him go. Nobody’s gonna be happy if I don’t charge him. On the other hand, what have
I got? There’s more evidence against the other guy than there is against him.”
“I understand. That’s because he framed the other guy. Or, at least, that’s the theory.”
“I know that’s the theory. But I really don’t like it.” He put up his hand. “Don’t quote me on that, will you?”
“Not unless you charge
me
with the crime,” Cora assured him. “Which is not entirely unlikely. You’ve charged everyone else.”
“You know it’s not my doing. I’m just following the facts.”
“And Ratface’s orders.”
“True. He’s the one who has to charge him or release him. Only, if he releases him, I’m the one who has to make another arrest.”
“Aren’t you running out of suspects?”
“Absolutely not. This isn’t one of those mystery books you read. The killer doesn’t have to be anyone you know. It could be someone from New York we never heard of.”
“Who coincidently winds up in Bakerhaven just in time to commit two unrelated crimes.”
“I’m not saying these are good theories. But we don’t have all the facts yet.”
“Well, why don’t we?” Cora said, irritably. “We’ve got two private eyes involved. Why isn’t there any record of anyone hiring either one?”
“Are you implying there is and we just haven’t found it?”
“I’m not implying that. It’s the obvious conclusion.”
“Hey, no fair. You searched that one PI’s office yourself.”
“Yeah, looking for a safe. We didn’t take the place apart. We didn’t search the guy’s computer.”
“But the New York cops did. The guy’s Quicken account didn’t show any recent deposit that might have come from a client. That, coupled with the cash in the safe, suggests he was paid in person.”
“Then the client should have had an appointment,” Cora insisted. “There should be something in the appointment book. A name. A time. A phone number. Or a message on the answering machine.”
“There wasn’t.”
“So the client was a walk-in,” Cora mused. “Either knew about him, or picked his name out of the phone book.”
“Or just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Harper said. “What was his office near?”
Cora frowned.
Walter Krebb’s office wasn’t near anything in particular.
But Lester Mathews’s office was only a few blocks away from the beauty salon where Mitzi had worked such wonders on her hair.
Cora found Aoki and his wife lunching at the Country Kitchen. Aoki was clearly fond of the salad bar, had a plate piled high.
Cora walked up to the table, bowed. “Sorry to bother you. I need to talk to your wife alone.”
“That is not proper,” Aoki said. His eyes were on her Stetson hat. Cora wasn’t sure if he was referring to her headgear or her stated intention.
“I’m not going to suggest anything improper. I just have to ask a few questions.”
“You can ask me.”
“No, you’re a murder suspect. Your lawyer wouldn’t like it. Let me ask your wife. No one’s charged her with anything yet.”
Cora practically dragged Reiko away from the table. “Guess where I was.”
Reiko frowned. “Where?”
“At the dojo.”
“The what?”
“Isn’t that what they call your jujitsu class?”
“No.”
“What do you call it?”
“Jujitsu class.”
“Fine. I talked to your teacher.”
“Kiosh?”
“Guy looks like he should be riding a surfboard.”
“Yes. He is not Japanese, but he is good.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Do you know what he said?”
“I do not know what you are saying. But you make my husband mad.”
“Sorry about that.” Cora steered Reiko over to the salad bar, began munching on a carrot stick. “This won’t take a moment. Your jujitsu class is very near something else.”
“Yes. The beauty parlor.”
“Guess again.”
“But it is.”
“I know it is. It’s also near something else. Can you imagine what?”
“No. I cannot.”
“I’ll give you a hint. It has a magnifying glass, and it looks for clues.”
Reiko frowned. “You are talking in a strange manner.”
“The more frustrated I get, the more that happens. I’m talking about a PI. A private investigator. A detective. A gumshoe. A private eye.”
Reiko glanced back at the table. “My husband will be coming over.”
“Good. Then you can tell him if you hired this detective.”
“If I hired?”
“Oh, hell. Now we’re back to repeating.”
“I do not understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand. I’m asking if you hired the
detective. It’s a yes or no question. ‘Yes’ would imply that you did. ‘No’ would imply that you didn’t. Care to choose one?”
“You are crazy. I cannot talk to you.”
Rieko started back to her table.
Cora grabbed her by the arm. She fully expected to be flipped head over heels into the salad bar, but the woman merely stopped.
“Please,” Reiko pleaded.
Cora looked her right in the eyes. “Did you hire the detective?”
There was a moment’s hesitation. Cora could imagine the woman’s rigid, extended fingers plunging into her stomach, yanking out her spine.
“No.”
Reiko wrenched her hand away, walked back to the table, just as her husband was preparing to get up.
Cora picked another carrot from the salad bar, chomped on it thoughtfully.
Reiko had been quite firm in her denial.
Cora wondered if she believed her.