Beverly Connor - Dead Past

“Sorry for my loss? Are you trying to say that Joana’s dead? She can’t be dead. We’re getting back together. She has a recital in two days. We have plans.” He looked at Diane and David as if just noticing them. “Who are you? What happened with Joana’s books? She doesn’t like people messing with her things.”

Diane picked her way though a safe path toward the door. As she passed near David she asked him, “Is there a clear area where we can question him?”

David nodded over his shoulder. “The breakfast nook has been cleared.”

“Why don’t we bring him inside,” Diane said to Garnett. “Bring him this way.”

Garnett nodded. He escorted Cipriano to a small alcove opposite the kitchen where he sat down at an oak breakfast table and put his head down on his arms.

“We need to find out if he has any way of knowing if any of her books are missing,” said Diane, as she and Garnett sat opposite Cipriano.

“Gil, can I call you Gil?” asked Garnett.

“It’s my name.” He raised his head. “How did she… die? Did she suffer?”

Probably, thought Diane, remembering her face. But right now, they couldn’t tell him that. Garnett just said there was a struggle and she apparently fell and hit her head on the coffee table, which was right.

He was silent for a moment. “What’s she saying about books?” he asked, nodding toward Diane.

“Would you be able to tell me if any of hers are missing?”

He stared at the two of them. “You’re kidding, right? Who keeps a list of the books they have?”

“Are there any special books she had, any rare books, any books that were actually safes?” asked Diane.

“Rare? No. Joana reads mainly those book-of-the-month things. And poetry. She likes that. We both do. What do you mean, books that are safes?”

“You know,” said Garnett. “It looks like a book, but inside it’s really a box to keep money and jewels in.”

“Jewels? Joana doesn’t have jewels. If she did, she’d keep them in a safe deposit box, not in a book.”

“There are a lot of music, history, and biography books in the living room. Are some of them yours?”

“The history and biography are mine. Why all these questions about books? We don’t have any particularly valuable books. They’re just books.”

“Has anyone asked you about them before?” asked Diane.

“No. I keep telling you, they are just books. What’s this about? Are you saying someone hurt Joana over a book? Like an overdue book or something? I know graduate students get desperate, but…” Gil looked from one to the other as though they were nuts.

Maybe the guy didn’t say book, thought Diane. Maybe Jere Bowden heard wrong. What sounds like book? Box-maybe. Look. Took. Rook-chess? Nook-place? Hook-weapon? Cook-meth lab? Could it be about the meth lab explosion?

While Diane was lost in her thoughts, Garnett was trying to nail down Gil’s alibi. The library is a hard alibi to deal with. Sure, lots of people see you, but it’s easy to come and go.

“Was Joana involved in drugs?” asked Diane.

“Drugs? No, of course not. She hates drugs.”

“Did she know anyone who was killed in the explosion?”

“I think maybe one of her students. She called to tell me about it. I can’t remember his name. Bobby something.”

“Did she know anyone who lived in the apartment house that blew up?” asked Diane.

“No, not that I know of. Look, I don’t understand any of these questions.”

“Just things we need to know,” said Garnett. “Like, do you know if she had any enemies?”

“Joana? No. She doesn’t have any enemies. All her students like her. So do her fellow faculty members.”

“How about socially?” asked Garnett.

“Social enemies? Like jealous wives and lovers? Joana isn’t that kind of person. She’s pretty, but she doesn’t inspire jealousy in people. She’s nice. Everyone likes her. Look, we’re just normal people. She teaches music, I’m getting my doctorate in history. No one would have reason to kill her.”

“How about you? Do you know anyone who might want to get even with you for some reason?”

“Me? No. I tell you. I’m just a student. No, there’s no one I know who would do something like this.”

“Why did you and she get a divorce?” asked Garnett.

He shrugged. “She thought I had an affair.”

“Did you?” asked Garnett.

“Not exactly.”

“Affairs are like pregnancies,” said Garnett. “You either are or you aren’t. Did you have an affair?”

“I didn’t call it that. It was all over the computer. We didn’t even meet in person. It was in a chat room. Look, I don’t have to go into this now, do I?” He cast a quick glance at Diane.

“I need to know the name of the woman you chatted with,” said Garnett.

“Do you have to? I mean… I don’t really know her name. She called herself Justforkicks. And that’s all it was. Besides, it’s over now.”

“I see,” said Garnett. “Doing any more online dating?”

He shrugged again. “Occasionally. Nothing serious. It’s like safe sex. It’s all cartoons, anyway.”

“Cartoons?” asked Garnett. Diane didn’t know what he meant, either.

“Webcam. It’ll make you look like a cartoon character. It’s the software. Like anime-the Japanese stuff.”

Diane was completely lost and she suspected that Garnett was, too.

“I tell you what,” said Garnett. “Will you let us have a look at your computer?”

“I don’t know. This is just personal stuff. I don’t even leave my room. I don’t meet anyone.”

“Someone might have taken you seriously and thought your wife was competition to get rid of.”

“That’s crazy. It’s just…” He looked at Diane again. “It’s nothing more than what it is. The people I talk to don’t even know who I am.”

“What’s your screen name?” asked Diane.

“Do I really have to say?” he asked Garnett.

“Where are you staying?” asked Garnett.

“I have an apartment on Applewood Street, four seventy-two. I room with two other students. They just went home after exams.”

“You staying in town during the break?”

“Yes.”

“We may want to talk with you again,” said Garnett.

“Where is she?” Gil asked. “Can I see her?”

“She’s with the medical examiner,” said Garnett. “We need for you to make a positive ID. I can have a police officer take you there.”

He nodded, the realization of what he was being asked to do suddenly reflected in his face.

Garnett released Gil Cipriano to one of the officers at the scene to be driven to the morgue. Diane and Garnett watched out the window of the breakfast nook as he walked down the sidewalk in the direction of the patrol car, his shoulders slumped, his hands in his pockets, his head bent down.

“What do you think?” asked Garnett.

“He always speaks of her in the present tense,” said Diane.

“Yes. I noticed that,” he said.

“His knuckles were clean and unmarked,” she said.

“I noticed that, too,” he said. “What were all those drug questions? Did you find something to link her to the meth lab explosion?”

“No, not really, just a chain of thoughts.” Diane explained her results on finding words that rhyme with book. “Thin thread, I know, but worth a shot at asking.”

Garnett gave a slight laugh. “Slim, indeed. But you’re right. Mrs. Bowden could have heard wrong.”

Garnett’s phone rang. Diane stood up to go back to helping David finish processing the crime scene. Garnett put a hand on her arm.

“She’s been here at this crime scene for several hours,” he said. Garnett listened for several moments. “Yes, I can. I’ve been here, too.” Pause. “I understand. We have other staff who can come.” He paused again.