Deb Baker - Goodbye Dolly

Gretchen couldn't get the sound of the wailing sirens from this morning out of her head. She couldn't forget Steve's pale face peering out at her from the back of the squad car.

"That's him?" Steve had asked in disbelief right before being unceremoniously escorted into the squad car. "The guy who's replacing me? The Boy Scout from the doll show?"

This was so embarrassing. And awkward. "I never said I had a replacement for you. Nina did."

"I recognize the name. Matt Albright. This cop who's threatening me is the guy you're dating?"

"We aren't dating." Gretchen glanced at Matt in time to see a raised eyebrow and amusement playing at the corners of his lips.

"Can we discuss this later?" she said. "The police think you might have something to do with Ronny's murder."

"That's ridiculous." Steve turned to Matt. "I demand my rights."

Matt sighed. "I don't have to read you your rights," he said. "You aren't under arrest. Yet." He held up a pair of handcuffs. "I would use these if I was arresting you."

"I demand representation," Steve had said. "Gretchen, you need to follow us and post bail for me. Gretchen-"

"She doesn't have to post bail for you." Matt's voice held an edge of annoyance. "You aren't under-"

"Gretchen. Wake up, Gretchen."

Gretchen blinked and found herself at the doll show.

April hovered over her. "This woman wants to buy a doll,"

she said.

"Oh, sure." Gretchen fumbled through the exchange. Afterward, she showed April and Nina the piece of paper she had found inside the Kewpie doll.

" Wag the Dog ," Nina said. "The movie?"

"Dustin Hoffman starred in it," April said.

"And Robert De Niro," Nina added.

"Don't forget Anne Heche," April said.

Gretchen frowned at both of them. "Now that we've established the cast, can someone tell me what the movie was about?"

"What movie?" Bonnie appeared out of nowhere, followed by Milt Wood, clutching a shopping bag in his right hand.

" Wag the Dog ," April said. "Gretchen found a message."

"What message?" Milt asked.

"It's about a scandal and the presidency," Bonnie explained, chattering right past Milt's question. "Robert De Niro is a spin doctor who creates a war to draw attention away from a scandal involving the president. It's a good movie."

"What does Wag the Dog mean?" Gretchen asked.

"What message?" Milt tried again.

Nina waved her arm wildly above her head. "I know. A dog should be smarter than its tail. If the tail is smarter, then the tail wags the dog."

Gretchen looked down at Tutu, Nina's frivolous schnoodle. Brain the size of a pinhead and she still managed to wag her tail. "I don't get it."

"What's going on?" Bonnie said. "What message did you get?"

Gretchen showed her the piece of paper. Bonnie's penciled eyebrows zigzagged. "There's a comma right here."

"Where?" Everyone leaned toward the paper.

"See that little mark right there?" Bonnie said, pointing.

"I thought that was a spot of dirt," Gretchen said. Bonnie shook her red-wigged head. "That changes the message."

" 'Wag, the Dog' means something different than 'Wag the Dog'?" Gretchen asked.

"I'm the Kewpie expert around here, remember?" Bonnie said. "Chief Wag is the leader of the Kewpies. He has a flag with a capital K in his topknot." Bonnie stuck a hand on top of her head for effect, but Gretchen thought she was making an L rather than a K . Sign language for loser. Gretchen stared at Bonnie. "Really?" she said. "Wag is the name of a Kewpie doll?"

"Really. So the dog must mean Kewpiedoodle Dog. He has wings, too, just like the other Kewpies." Bonnie beamed. "Got to go. If you need any more help, just call."

"I'm still searching for a special Kewpie to take home with me," Milt said. "Let me know if you see anything."

Gretchen watched them stride down the aisle. She was no closer to understanding the message inside the Blunderboo Kewpie than she had been when she first discovered it. Whether she read it as "Wag, the Dog" or "Wag the Dog"

didn't matter.

Her cell phone rang. The number on the caller ID was unfamiliar. She answered.

"I haven't been charged with anything," Steve said.

"But your boyfriend is holding me on suspicion."

"Can he do that?" Gretchen asked, ignoring the boyfriend reference.

"My fingerprints on the knife, and a public fight with Ronny right before he was killed aren't helping my case."

"I'll find you an attorney."

"Not yet." Steve sounded stressed but cautiously restrained. "I haven't told the police everything, if you catch my meaning."

"You have to tell the truth, Steve. You're an attorney. You should know that."

"I'm committed to you, and I won't put you in a bad spot."

"You're the one who took the knife. You have to explain how it got in Ronny's back."

"If I tell him that I gave it back to you, you'll be the one sitting in jail instead of me. Unless going out with the detective assigned to the case exempts you from the suspect list."

Gretchen rubbed her weary eyes. "What are you talking about? You took my knife."

"I was sort of tinkering with it on your worktable and became distracted by our conversation, and later I found it in my pocket. But during the doll show I threw it down on your table. You know that."

"I know nothing of the sort." Gretchen thought about the clutter at the repair end of the table. Was he telling the truth?

"Don't worry, I'll protect you as long as I can."

"I don't need protection. I didn't do anything wrong."

"If you didn't kill Ronny, you better find out who did, because I know I didn't, and one of us is in serious trouble."

"Tell the truth, Steve. That's all I can recommend right now."

"Gotta go. Your boyfriend's back." Steve disconnected without hearing Gretchen's next comment.

"He isn't my boyfriend," she said into the dead phone.

Tulip Ray shades her eyes with the back of a tattooed hand.

"I don't usually, like, get involved. Nothing personal. I like to, y'know, like, mind my own business."

"Just a few questions."

"Maybe someone else can, like, answer them. I have to get to work."

"It'll only take a minute."

Tulip sighs heavily for the dramatic effect. All right, she hopes the sigh implies, but you're taking up my valuable time.

"What?" she asks, tapping a foot against a privacy wall. Hurry up, the foot implies. Make it quick. She watches a lizard slink up the wall and duck behind a withered vine.

"You were standing on the curb?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"What did you see?"

"Not much. The deed was done when I looked out in the street."

"The deed?"

"That's an expression. I didn't, like, see a thing."

"How about the box? Did you see the box?"

"What kind of box?"

"Cardboard box."

"Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe? Either you saw it or you didn't. Which is it?"

She narrows her eyes. "Yah, I saw a box. That guy who got killed had a box when he ran up."

"What happened to it?"

"You said this would only take a minute."

"We can continue our conversation downtown."

"Some other guy picked it up."

"What did he look like?"

"Like he's been sleeping on park benches for about a hunnert years. He had a bunch of blue clothes on, y'know?

Smelled, too."

"Ever see him before?"

"Do I look like someone who'd know a bum?" She kicks aimlessly at the curb, then looks down at her black toenails.

Man, how she hates cops.

Everyone at the doll show was talking about Ronny Beam's murder in the parking lot yesterday. The vendors spoke quietly among themselves so their customers wouldn't overhear. Nothing like murder to draw people together, Gretchen thought, observing a renewed camaraderie among the competitors. People lined up for admission, many of them arriving out of curiosity. Thrill seekers. Nina bought the Sunday newspaper, and they quickly scanned it together behind Gretchen's table. "Murder Among Dolls." Ronny, always in search of the story of a lifetime, had finally found it. Page one, front and center. Many of the customers wanted to know the sordid details, hoping to hear more at the doll show than they'd learned from the local news. Gretchen kept her ears tuned to the rumor mill, hoping to learn something that might exonerate Steve. If only he'd stayed in Boston.