Nevada Barr - Naked Came The Phoenix

"When you say prey, what do you mean?"

"Blackmail," Phyllis said simply.

"She was blackmailing you? How and why?"

Phyllis shrugged. "She knew I had had a bit of a drinking problem, years ago. Then my first book came out and she went to my publisher and tried to convince them that I was a fraud, that I had become a psychic by taking a correspondence course when I was locked up at home with three little kids. That was a lie, of course. I only had two."

"And it worked?" Vince asked. "The correspondence course, I mean."

"Sure it worked," Phyllis Talmadge replied. "It turned out I already knew how to do it, it's just that I didn't know I knew. It's like radio waves, you see. As long as the station is on the air, the waves are there. The only reason you don't hear them is you haven't turned on your receiver."

"I see," Vince said. "So do you ever help with criminal cases?"

"Detective Toscana, this is utterly uncalled for…" Marsha Rollins began.

"Do you?" Vince asked.

"Sometimes," Phyllis Talmadge said. "Not very often, mind you. But sometimes."

"Would you be willing to help us on this case?"

"You mean professionally? Not as a suspect?"

"Absolutely," Vince said. "As one professional to another."

"I'd have to think about that for a little while," Phyllis Talmadge said. "I'd have to go outside by myself. Maybe down by the lake and think about it."

"Why don't you do that," Vince said, nodding sagely. "You go think about this case. Tune in to whatever radio waves you need to in order to be able to tell me what's going on here, then you come back and tell me what you learned."

"You mean in less than eight weeks," Phyllis said. "Eight weeks is usually my limit. Any longer than that, and the results may not be reliable."

"You take as long as you need, but I'd appreciate something sooner than eight weeks. That's a little longer than I had in mind." Phyllis was nodding, and Vince knew he had her. He had appealed to her professional ego. If she knew something-incriminating or not-the woman would be stumbling all over herself and her bullheaded attorney to spill the beans.

Then, just when he should have been asking Phyllis for her verbal agreement to go along with his plan, there was a knock on the door. Damn.

"What is it, Mikey?" Vince demanded as the door opened a crack. "Don't you know I'm busy in here? I thought I told you I wasn't to be interrupted."

"Yes, sir. I know, sir, but I thought this was important."

Vince sighed. "All right. What is it?"

"There's someone out here demanding to see you."

"That's a switch," Vince Toscana said. "Somebody actually wants to see me for a change? Sure it isn't another one of them damn lawyers?"

"It's that Finch woman. She says she's come to turn herself in."

Vince turned back to Phyllis Talmadge. "I'm sorry about the interruption," he said. "There's another door over here. If you wouldn't mind, you can go out the back way. And then, after you've spent some time down by the lake, you can come back and tell me what you've learned."

She shook her head. "No, that won't be necessary."

"What won't be necessary?"

"My going to the lake. I've already tuned in. Your assistant here is absolutely right. The Finch woman-I believe her name is Hilda-is the one you want."

"You're saying she killed Claudia de Vries?" Vince asked.

Phyllis frowned. "That's still a little fuzzy. The message isn't quite coming through, but the person you're looking for is Hilda Finch. I'm quite sure."

Mike was standing in the doorway with the door half open behind him. Now someone knocked on it hard enough that it bounced off his back and the doorknob whacked him in the hip.

"Well," Hilda Finch demanded loudly, "is he going to see me or not? If he can't be bothered, I suppose I could always go outside the gate to where all those television cameras are stationed and tell the reporters there that I tried to turn myself in but Detective Toscana was too busy doing other things to be bothered with arresting me."

Toscana turned back to Phyllis Talmadge and her fuming attorney. "If you ladies would please excuse me," he said, ushering them to the back door. "This sounds important. I'd better handle it."

The detective let them out, closed the door, and then turned back to the other door in time to see a limping Mike let Hilda Finch into the room. At the crime scene, Hilda hadn't looked her best, but now she did. With a daughter in her midtwenties, Hilda had to be somewhere in the mid-fifty range, but she didn't look it. In fact, the broad looked as though she was a high-powered CEO ready to make a speech in front of a corporate board of directors.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Finch?" Vince asked politely.

"You can arrest me for the murder of Claudia de Vries. The woman was a blackmailing bitch, and I'm glad she's dead."

"Being glad isn't the same as being guilty."

"Maybe not, but you need to arrest me anyway."

"Does that mean you're confessing?"

"Not exactly. But surely I'm under suspicion."

"Everybody here is under suspicion," Vince told her. "The problem is, at this time, I don't have enough evidence to arrest anyone, including you. Have you been advised of your rights?"

"I'm not some little wimp, Detective Toscana. I don't need my rights read to me, and I don't need an attorney present, either. I'm entirely capable of talking to you on my own."

"Why did you do it?" Vince asked.

"Do what?"

"Kill her?"

"Claudia was a very annoying woman," Hilda answered.

"You killed her because she was annoying?"

"And did you know she'd had a face-lift?" Hilda continued. "Here she is, spouting the age-reversing benefits of all these natural herbs and supplements, but she's gone out behind all her clients' backs and gone under some plastic surgeon's knife to smooth out the wrinkles. If that isn't flying under false pretenses, I don't know what is. In fact, I'd be surprised if someone didn't file suit against Phoenix Spa for false advertising practices."

"How long had you known Mrs. de Vries?" Vince asked.

"Long enough," Hilda Finch answered. "Since college."

"And how many years would that be?"

"I refuse to answer that question," Hilda answered. "It's rude to ask a woman her age like that. Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners? Anyway, it doesn't matter. I plead the fifth."

"So you'd been friends since college."

"I said we'd known one another since then. That doesn't mean we were friends."

"But you've been in business together."

"I've been in business with her," Hilda agreed. "But Claudia didn't know she was in business with me. She thought her silent partner was an attorney from Atlanta. I can give you his name and number if you like." She reached into her purse, pulled out a business card, and handed it over to Detective Toscana. He took it without looking at it.

"And now you own the business?" Vince asked.

"Something like that," Hilda replied.

"Don't you think Dr. de Vries would have something to say about it?"

"Raoul has nothing whatever to do with it," Hilda said. "Talk to my attorney. You'll see that there's an ironclad survivorship agreement. As spa physician, Raoul has been an employee here, nothing more. He's never had any ownership in the spa. I don't think Claudia thought him entirely trustworthy."

"You're aware that he's a convicted felon?"

Hilda raised an eyebrow. "No," she said. "But it's not too surprising. It also might make his continuing on here problematic. I wouldn't want Phoenix Spa's physician to have a blemished record. He might have kept it quiet up till now, but after this the world will know. That will make it difficult to attract and keep the kind of clientele we need to keep the bills paid. As you can well imagine, this isn't an inexpensive operation."