Блейк Крауч - Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 133, No. 5. Whole No. 813, May 2009

“Thank you,” came the old woman’s flat response.

Perrone surveyed the one-bedroom apartment. The sparse furnishings appeared well-dusted. A painted sign, about 4x4, leaned against one wall. It read: Santoni & Mom.

“I take it that after his father died, Jimmy took over the act and the two of you came up with a new routine,” surmised Perrone.

The old lady slowly turned her head to view the sign. “That’s right, Detective. But truth be told, we’ve never really been able to make a go of it. I’m the first to admit that our comedy is rather antiquated. Perhaps too much so for today’s audiences.”

Her big eyes swept the room as if scanning for eavesdroppers. She lowered her voice to a raspy whisper. “And unfortunately, Jimmy never had the talent of his father.”

“I understand,” said the detective.

The lady raised her voice again, anger creeping into it. “That needn’t be the case, if he’d listen to me when I try to teach him something. I know best. He’s never realized that. The dummy.”

“We got that, ma’am,” said Perrone. “You don’t think your son is very bright.”

“I don’t mean to sound harsh, Detectives. I’m trying to look out for the boy but he’s somewhat... impressionable. Easy to fall in with the wrong types. Take this woman, for instance.”

“You mean the decedent?”

“Mm-hmm. It may be improper to speak ill of the dead, but she was nothing but a hussy, if you ask me. And I told Jimmy so, straight out. Not that he’d listen, of course.”

“Why don’t you tell us how they met.”

“It was perhaps a month ago. We’d been out trying to pick up new bookings. I realize we don’t have the clout to fill a showroom — like his father and I used to — but we’re very comfortable in the smaller venues. At any rate, we were interviewing at hotel casinos and lounges. We traveled to Henderson and went up to Reno. That’s where Jimmy met her.”

Perrone consulted his notes. “Serena Mayes. Cocktail waitress at the Mule Kick Saloon.”

The old woman pshawed. “Cocktail waitress. By day perhaps, but at night she drove down here to Vegas to work in one of those ‘gentlemen’s clubs.’ ” She made finger quotes, not so much with her fingers but her whole hands, flopping in the air like limp, tired birds.

“She was a stripper,” finished Stockel.

“Slut,” she said. “Pardon my language, but I could tell she wasn’t right from the start. After we’d auditioned for the manager, Jimmy and I were having lunch in the saloon — a very nice establishment, by the way — when the two of them locked eyes, Jimmy and the girl. I could see the sparks immediately, and admittedly she’s got the most vibrant green eyes...” She stopped, reconsidered. “Well, she had the most vibrant eyes, before...”

“Before the screwdriver, you mean.” Crow’s-feet tickled the corners of Stockel’s eyes as he held back a smile. “I understand it was a Phillips head.”

“You seem to be taking perverse delight in this, Detective.”

“Don’t mind him, ma’am,” said Perrone. “Please, continue.”

The old woman kept staring up at Stockel, unblinking.

Perrone said, “Say you’re sorry, Ray.”

“I’m sorry, Ray,” replied Stockel.

“HA!” burst out the old woman, her thin lips not even cracking a grin. “The dust on that one’s a foot thick, Detective. That wouldn’t even make it into the act I did with Jimmy’s father.”

“That’s why I went into police work. I got no sense of humor,” said Stockel.

Perrone interjected, “If you could, ma’am, tell us what happened with Jimmy and Serena.”

She cleared her throat. “Of course. Shortly after they met, he began making trips to Reno to see her at the saloon. And when she drove down here to dance at the club on weekends, he’d go in to see her, spending all of his hard-earned money on her. Spending all of OUR hard-earned money.”

“So he was a customer,” said Perrone.

“I suppose that’s what you would call it. But he and the girl got along outside her work as well. They often saw each other during the day, went to UNLV ball-games, that sort of thing. But I’ve no doubt her intentions were improper.”

“She was just after money, is that what you mean?”

The old woman nodded, her head bobbing pistonlike on her brittle neck. “It may not look like it, but we do have a little bit socked away for emergency. I didn’t want her getting her hands on it. I voiced my opinion, but Jimmy wouldn’t listen. Honestly, Detective, though I didn’t care for her, it was the girl I was trying to help.”

“How’s that?”

“As I said, my son has issues. With women, I mean. There have been incidents of violence in the past. I’m not proud to admit it, but there it is. He’s got a police record for domestic violence and stalking.”

Perrone made a note. “Thank you for your candor, Mrs. Santoni. I’ll look into that.”

Stockel stared down at the woman, her white hair like soft yarn. “Just curious. If you knew he might hurt her, why didn’t you try to stop him?”

“Detective, look at me. I’m obviously in no physical condition to prevent my son from...”

“What I meant was, why didn’t you try to talk him out of it at least?”

“Oh, but I did. He and I argued about it on more than one occasion. He said nasty things to me, vile things. That’s not the way I raised him.”

” ’Course not.”

“At any rate, things came to a head yesterday. He informed me that she was coming over to spend the night. I forbade it. After all, I live here, too. He may be a grown man, but I have a right to say who can or cannot sleep under this roof. And I’ll be darned if I’m going to have them doing their dirty business on the other side of the wall while I’m trying to sleep.”

She looked up, blinking once, deliberately. Stockel swore he could actually hear her eyelids punctuate her statement. He lifted his hands, palms open in surrender.

Perrone said, “So when you laid down the law, what did your son do?”

“He locked me up. Can you believe it? He intended to have her over and rub my nose in it. I’ll be darned if that little dummy was going to disrespect ME like that. Let’s be clear that this was not about my distaste for the girl. This was about a boy respecting his mother.”

Stockel couldn’t resist a dig. “Yeah, but his real mom divorced his dad. You’re more like a... stepmom. Not his REAL mom.”

“Let her finish the story, Ray.”

“She’s the one that brought it up. The thing about respect, I mean. I thought she was all about making sure the girl didn’t get hurt.”

Mrs. Santoni barked, “I DIDn’t want her to get hurt! That’s why I confronted him. Confronted them. It was an embarrassing situation, to be sure...”

She raised a hand to her face, the wisp of a handkerchief looped around a finger.

Perrone calmed her. “Just take us through it step-by-step, ma’am.”

“Well... when the lights went down and the two of them started... to do their... I heard what they were saying, what they were doing...” She described it to them, as delicately as she could, sniffling. “I realize I’m old-fashioned, but back in my day, that sort of thing wasn’t done, not by respectable people.”

“I understand how it may have shocked you, ma’am. I believe in some states it’s still considered illegal.”

“As well it should be.”

“So, when you heard them, what did you do?”

“I started pounding and hollering and raising a ruckus, until Jimmy finally let me out. The poor girl seemed so confused, as if she didn’t even know I lived here, as if Jimmy were keeping it a secret, like it was some perverse little game. I said to her, ‘Get your clothes and get out.’ She glared at Jimmy and asked, ‘What’s going on?’ Jimmy said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.’ Then he and I began arguing.”