Hannah Bronto - Lovers in paradise

"Do you think that's wise, Spens?" I asked, knowing the question had to be asked. "Do you think it's a smart move to keep any of the details of this case from her?"

"Look, it was a dead end, you know that as well as I do. I'm not going to let her humiliate you with it. I at least owe you that much."

I shrugged. "Well, if you think so."

"I do. And not another word about it, is that clean. Good." He smiled. "Mal, what do you say when this is al over, just you and I go out together and get good and drunk?"

"Spens, I think that's one of the finest ideas you've ever had in your life."

The communicator on his desk-buzzed, and Commissioner Moran reached across and flipped a switch. "Yes?"

"Policewoman Wolfe is out here, sir."

"Thank you, Mycroft. Send her in, please." He closed the communicator. "And none too soon. Remember what I told you, Mal."

The door of the office opened inwardly, and in walked Jocelyn Wolfe. Instead of the standard uniform she usually wore, she had on a short, tight-fitting orchid-colored dress that fit her like her flesh did. The skirt was short and it flounced against her well-shaped thighs. Her breasts were high and firm, and under the thin gauzy material, her nipples were erect.

"Good afternoon, everyone," she announced. Jocelyn was in an exceptionally good mood. "And how is every one today?"

"Hum," I snorted cynically. "Murder must agree with you: I've never seen you so congenial. What would you do if there were another murder? Begin giggling?"

She dropped into the empty chair across from me. "Ha-ha, very funny. You're hysterical. But I'm not going to let you bother me: I'm in too good a mood."

"Oh, really. Why?"

Jocelyn looked at me levelly. "Because this second murder proves all your theories are wrong. It's all a bunch of hot air. And, what I've been saying all along is right after all. Besides, I have a good solid line on the murderer."

Commissioner Moran frowned at her gloating;. "Oh, is that so? Tell us about it, Miss Wolfe."

"I will," she quipped, "in due time. But first let's discuss everything else. I want to save the best for last. I love surprises."

"All right," I said coming to grips with her challenge, "let's discuss all my theories. Where would you like to begin?"

"How about beginning with the latest murder?" she suggested. "Let's see what the murder of Shelley Charles does to your typically male prejudices."

"All right, I admit that my idea about the murder being the turning point in this case was wrong. Clearly, Effie Spade was not murdered because she knew her attacker as someone she could identify. Shelley Charles' murder proves that without any doubt. These acts of murder were the beginning of a newly emerging behavior for pattern for our rapist/killer. It would be stretching probability to the limits of reason for me, or for anyone for that matter to suggest that Shelley Charles knew of could have recognized her attacker."

"There are a couple of other points," Jocelyn interjected. "Like for instance, what the computer says about the two women. No link – I'll repeat that – no link whatsoever has been found to tie the two murdered worrier together. They were strangers; consequentially, the murderer could not have killed them because he knew them. There was no way for him to know them both: they had nothing at all in common. Effie Spade and Shelley Charles never worked in the same places, never lived in the same places, didn't know the same people, never went to the same schools, and so on. What it comes down to is this: Effie Spade and Shelley Charles lived two separate, never overlapping lives. The man who raped and murdered them was a stranger to the both of them."

"I noticed," Commissioner Moran said, "you've made it a point to stress that the murderer was a man. Is this more rejoicing on your part, or do you have a reason for being so positive."

"I always have a reason for what I say find do," Jocelyn said, smiling sweetly. "The both of you should know that by now."

"I'd like to hear that proof," I said.

"Well," she said, "in my discussions with her neighbors, the people who lived in her building, as well as the people in her general neighborhood, I learned something very interesting about Miss Effie Spade." She paused dramatically, just to make sure she had our rapt attention. She did. "Effie Spade was a lesbian."

I smiled.

When no one reacted, Jocelyn looked confused. "I don't understand. I thought you'd see…"

"We already know that," Commissioner Moran explained. Even he looked pleased. "Mal brought that to my attention earlier in the day."

"He did?" Jocelyn's face sagged with disappointment for an instant. She looked over at me, warily holding something back. "How did you find out about that? I thought it was a deep dark secret."

"From a friend of hers," I said. "A sometime lover. Her name was Michelle Poirot."

"Oh." For a moment Jocelyn considered this. "Well, did you also know that Effie Spade never went out with men? I mean never, not even on dates."

"Yes; we knew that as well," I said.

"Mal also found that out from Miss Spade's friend, Michelle Poirot," Commissioner Moran lied deftly. "None of this comes as a surprise."

Jocelyn smiled, like the cat who had secretly swallowed a canary. "Oh, well, by itself those facts are not really important. They only become important when weighed against what I found out about Shelley Charles, the second murdered woman."

"And what is that?"

"Only that Shelley Charles was not a lesbian. From what I found out about her, she was anything but a lesbian. Even in our free-thinking culture, Shelley Charles would have been considered promiscuous. According to her neighbors, she would fuck with any man who had a cock, regardless of what he looked like, and how he made the suggestion to her."

"Interesting," Commissioner Moran said. "Develop the hypothesis."

"First of all, we know that Shelley Charles wasn't a lesbian, so that the probability that she was murdered by a female lover is quite remote. Granted she might have been, but I think a male lover would have been more in character for her. Second, she probably would have been open to any suggestion of fucking, regardless of how that suggestion was made. Again, that seemed to suggest she was indeed with a male rapist. Third, if Shelley Charles probably was not murdered by a woman, then logically neither could Effie Spade have been murdered by a woman. Unless, of course, you want to subscribe to the uncertain theory that there are indeed two rapists and murderers on the loose?"

"One is still enough," Commissioner Moran said dryly. "Go on. I still haven't heard anything I would consider conclusive proof. It still sounds awfully speculative."

"My fourth and final point," she said casually, "has something again to do with Effie Spade, the first murdered woman. Several of her neighbors maintain they heard someone in the apartment a little while before she was found murdered. According to them, it was a male visitor."

The words dropped like a bombshell. I glanced at Commissioner Moran, but he was concentrating on Jocelyn. He was very interested.

"Are you – sure?" he asked.

"Her neighbors were fairly certain."

"But can they identify him?"

Jocelyn shook her head. "The ones I spoke with couldn't, unfortunately, because all they heard was his voice through the paper-thin plasteel walls separating their apartments. Thank God for shoddy constriction materials; it's a good thing they don't build things like they used to."

"They thought they heard a man's voice," I pointed out. "But they might have been mistaken. They could have heard a woman's voice."

Jocelyn smiled. "Oh no, it was a man. Someone saw him."

"Saw him?" Commissioner Moran's eyes glittered.