Couples
Chapter 54
Kate's never been to Stonecraft before and didn't know what to expect, perhaps a few Ru Paul wannabes. As far as she can tell, there aren't any around. In fact, happy hour looks like happy hour at any other bar, except that the chips might be fresher. She approaches the bartender and shows her badge."
His expression darkens. "If you're here to hassle us, you're wasting your time. Our liquor license is up to date, and the health department gave us an 'A.'
"Yes, I saw that," Kate responds. "But I'm not here to hassle you. I'm here investigating the murder of one of your patrons, Cliff Halsey."
The bartender's eyes widen. "Cliff is dead? I knew he hadn't been around in a while, but dead! That's terrible! Who killed him?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Kate explains. "His mother told me he spent a lot of time here. I was wondering if you might know about anyone who had it in for him, um…"
"Manfred," the bartender fills in.
"Manfred. Maybe an ex-boyfriend?" Kate queries.
Manfred swipes his hand down his face. "Cliff walked out of here with a lot of first dates, but I don't think he was with anyone long enough to have an ex. There was one guy who came in here screaming that Cliff stole his jobs."
Kate uses her phone to display an image of Marster Hampton's headshot that Stacy's assistant showed her. "This guy?"
Manfred shrugs. "Could have been him. It was a busy night, so I didn't get much of a look. Our bouncer took care of the situation."
"And where is he?" Kate asks.
Manfred points to a woman standing at the end of the bar surveying the house. "She, Marilyn."
Marilyn has a flat expression on her face as Kate approaches. "I don't allow any trouble in here."
"So Manfred tells me." Kate holds up her phone. "You recognize this man?"
"He was part of the trouble I had to get rid of. Not a big deal. All it took was a come-along hold. Guys like that should spend more time at the gym and less time on their make-up."
"Do you remember him making any threats against Cliff Halsey?"
"He said something about a Stacy never being able to book Cliff again. But by the time he finished his rant, I had him out of here. I came right back in, so that's all I had to do with him."
"All right," Kate acknowledges, "thanks. That helps. And I'm curious. how did you learn a come-along hold?"
"I was an MP in the army. We learned a few tricks."
"I'm sure you did. Anyway, thanks again," Kate adds.
Scanning the room for any signs of disturbance, Marilyn nods.
Kate checks her watch. She'll be off shift by the time she manages an interview with Marster Binghampton, but she doesn't want to delay it. He could rabbit if he hears she's been asking questions. His address is in the Ansonia district, not a cheap place to live – as if anywhere in Manhattan is. No wonder he was desperate for work. People have killed for less. She sends Rick a text that she'll be late.
Rick is disappointed but not surprised that Kate will be home behind schedule. When she's on the trail, she doesn't stop. It's one of the things that makes the Nikki Heat stories so engrossing. Fortunately, it's the day he chose to make lasagna. He can put hers aside until – whenever.
The alert he set on his computer for a reply from Sam Fitzsimmons blares. Rick quickly scans through the text. Sam's laying out a plan for social media as well as television and radio commercials, concentrating on the outlets most likely to attract Victor Barron's fans. Rick gulps at the projected dollar amount but sends his acceptance. He can't imagine anything more worthwhile than getting Victor Barron to shut up.
Marster Binghampton answers his door wearing a green skin-tightening mask that looks identical to Martha's favorite brand. "Whatever you're selling, I don't want any."
Kate points to her badge. "I'm not selling anything, Mr. Binghampton, but we are going to have a little talk. May I come in?"
Marster grudgingly waves her inside. "I don't know anything that would interest the police unless obnoxious directors are finally illegal."
"I'm here about Cliff Halsey," Kate announces, watching for a reaction.
"What about him?" Marster asks. His response is tinged with anger, but Kate doesn't detect any signs of guilt. Still, models know how to control their expressions. He could be covering up.
"He's dead," she informs him. "He was murdered."
"Well, happy day! He finally won't be snagging the bookings I should get."
"And did you take care of that?" Kate questions.
"What? No! I've never killed anybody, not a human anyway. For what this place costs, you'd think they could get rid of the roaches. And I haven't been near him since he got me thrown out of the Stonecraft. That bitch bouncer left bruises on my wrist."
"You have any idea who might want to kill him?" Kate asks.
"On a guess? Anyone who's been up against him for a booking. We ran into each other in Stacy Monahan's office once or twice, but I really didn't know him. I can't help you, Detective."
"All right, thank you for your time, Mr. Binghampton."
"You didn't give me much of a choice," he retorts. "But I love your skin. What kind of a mask do you use?"
Kate winks. "Darth Vader."
"You made it back sooner than I thought you would," Rick confesses, dishing out lasagna.
"My suspect is either the world's best actor, or he didn't do it," Kate confides. "Which leaves me exactly at square one. Or maybe not," she considers.
"What has popped into your fertile detective brain?" Rick inquires.
"Loretta Halsey, the victim's mother. I had a feeling when I interviewed her that she wasn't being quite straight with me about something. Now I'll need to find out what. I'll talk to her again tomorrow morning, in the box this time."
"Ah, the intimidation factor of the interrogation room. Combining that with your prodigious skills at dragging out the truth, how can you miss?"
Kate stabs a cherry tomato in her salad. "I guess I'll find out."
Michael carefully covers his kitchen table with newspaper – not the Ledger – and lines up his components. He has enough for three bombs, maybe more. He'll have to be cautious after he puts them together. Once he adds the fuel oil to the fertilizer, the mixture will be very easy to set off. But he shouldn't have to worry. He's on the right side of this fight. God should protect him. He starts putting together his first explosive device, for the biggest nest of vipers, the Ledger.
He can picture himself in the back alley where the deliveries arrive. He won't try to get past any guards. He'll just leave his present against the wall, out of the range of vision of anyone at the door. It will blow through the brick and anyone and anything behind it. And he'll release his message at the same time on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram: "What happened to the Ledger will keep happening to those who spread lies about Victor Barron."
Michael can feel his excitement rising as he visualizes the explosion and Victor Barron's joy when he realizes his people are behind him. The best time to plant his deadly gift will be just before dawn when the shadows will hide it. He can't wait.