Ghostbusters Doom Patrol: Till the Clouds Roll By, Part 2
Chapter 1: An Explanation of Sorts
With his left arm leaning halfway outside of the driver's side window, Statler rhythmically tapped the door of the Ecto-Millennium. The vehicle had been a laborious project that had taken him the better part of several weeks of focused toiling and sleepless nights to complete. The sirens of the massive stretch hearse were silent and its headlights were slightly dimmed. Painted a pristine black, the car's metallic blue lining gleamed radiantly in the mid-evening twilight. On the hood of the engine was the familiar NO-GHOST emblem of Doom Patrol.
"Tell me again now, why are we heading toward Gloucester Township, New Jersey?" Rob asked as his eyes diverted to a sign above the overpass that read NOW ENTERING GLOUCESTER COUNTY.
Salina sat in the passenger seat, thumbing through the preliminary reports that Detective Madison had given the team the day before. "To try to make some sense of what the hell happened the other night at the television studio", she said simply, nodding to the left, indicating for Rob to take the next exit.
"The reports said that Beatrix DeWitt used to live in this area all her life. We need to start from scratch."
Salina opened a folder containing the reports she just mentioned, fliped through, and came across a black and white photograph, attached by a paperclip, of an elderly woman sitting on a gazebo with a young girl.
Rob shifts his head to take a brief look at the image. "Who's the old lady?"
"Beatrix's only remaining next of kin; her grandmother, Veronica DeWitt. We're short on leads and this is as good a place to start as any. Hopefully, she can shed some light between the connection of the ghost that attacked Sheena on Late Night and why it involves Beatrix "
"Can't imagine why she would disappear at the height of her career. That don't make no sense." Rob added.
Salina shrugged as the Ecto-M lazily turned into town. "Guess that's why Detective Madison and the Philly P.D had so much trouble with this case in the beginning: no body, no witnesses, and no motive."
"Good point", Rob replied as he turned the vehicle down a street. He then reached down to turn up the volume on the radio on the control panel and changed the bandwidth tuner to Q-102, his favorite music station. The radio jockey's voice could be heard from the front and rear speakers of the Ecto- M.
"Gooooooood evening everyone. You're listening to Q-102; Philadelphia #1 hit music station. As always, I'm DJ Quick and this is my partner and playette in crime Ms. Lisa Jones."
Jones: "Hey y'all!"
Quick: "Aight', just a reminder for all of you tuning in now that later on, we'll have a special guest coming to ya' live from the studio. No introduction is needed for this man; he is Philly's hometown hero and the supreme thrilling machine of basketball...Allen Iverson! He is fresh hot on the scene these days. You don't wanna miss this interview folks, so stick around. Right now, Lisa has something to say, so brothas', pay attention lest you miss out on the sultry words of Ms. Jones."
Jones: "Hello, boys, it's Friday and you know what that means. The weekend is here and I'm ready to play. Who wants to come and play with me? (DJ Quick raises his hand eagerly) Hahaha! Easy yourself, Quick. Tonight at 10pm, The Suede Lounge is hosting its annual dance contest to raise money for renovations to the new gym and recreation center at Center City's local YMCA. Quick and I will be there to MC the event and those of you who prove your worth tonight will have the opportunity to meet and share a grind with me on the dance floor. So come on you eligible men...and women. Join us there and support a good cause. Groove now or forever hold your peace."
Quick: "That's right. You heard it from the lips of Ms. Jones first hand. Be there with us, drink up, dance, and loose yourself. Cover charge at the door is $15 for men, $12 dollars for women. Half of all proceeds will go to the YMCA. For directions to The Suede Lounge, log on to their website at www.suedelounge.com. Now that's out the way, Q-102 is gonna take you back...old school style. Since its hot out there in the city, we're gonna grace you with a familiar hit by DJ Jazzy Jeff and Will "The Fresh Prince" Smith."
(Intro to "Summertime" plays)
::Summer, summer, summertime
Time to sit back and unwind::
Rob smiled as he again began to tap the side of the car along with the music over the radio. "I grew up on his music."
Looking up from reading over the files, Salina puts on her blue-tinted shades. "I'm actually more into 80s pop and Duran-Duran."
"That's cool, girl. You know I..." Then it dawned on him. "Wait a second...Duran-Duran, Salina Duran?"
Salina then innocently smiled to herself.
Not too far down the block from where they were driving, the two Ghostbusters noticed children playing water sports outside of their homes on their front lawns. The sun had not quite gone down for the evening, but it was still warm enough for children to run around playing with water balloons and swimming in their pools. The crisp, sweet smell of grilled honey barbecued chicken filled the air of the suburban township. Salina had spent many years away from home on expeditions in the Great White North and much of Eastern Europe. As she looked on seeing the children play and families gather in fellowship, she thought about how much she missed being away from her family and former life in Canada.
"Hey, big man", Rob said hanging out of the driver's window. One of the children, a portly Asian boy, walked up to the car. "Can you help us out real quick, we're looking for someone."
"Who's that?" the boy asked.
"Do you know a Mrs. Veronica DeWitt or if she live around here?"
"Miz DeWitt?" the boy replied in a distinct New Jersey accent. "Yeah, she's just up the road here, and when you get to Tommy's house, just make a left turn and you'll see her house."
"Okay, what color house does Tommy live in?" Rob asked smirking.
"What's it to ya'"?
"Huh?" Rob got a kick out of this. He looks over to Salina. "Ain't that a..."
Salina inches over and looks past his shoulder.
"Ok, kid, I respect that. You drive a hard bargain," Rob said digging inside his pocket. He pulled out a half dollar and tossed it to the boy.
"That's all?" The boy wined
Statler persists, "Tell me what I want to know and I'll give you the rest."
"OK. Tommy's house is tan with a black roof."
"Good boy." The muscular Doom Patrolman tossed him another half-dollar. "You've just learned a valuable lesson, son. Don't ever hustle a hustler." And with that, the Ecto-M drove away.
"What did you mean by the last thing you said to that boy?" Salina asked.
"Salina, kids today are either greedy or lazy. Next time, that little kid will think twice before he decides to screw someone over. Wait till he discovers that the inscription on the other half dollar reads PROPERTY OF ATLANTIC CITY.
"What am I going to do with you, baldy?" A wide grin on her face, Salina said as they drove in the direction the boy had given them. "And you know what? I never noticed it before, but you have an accent."
"I should, I used to live about an hour's drive from where we are now before I got snapped up by the U.S. Special Weapons and Vehicles Division and was shipped all the way out to...."
"Dalton", Salina finished for him, grinning from ear to ear. "We both know how the story comes out anyway."
. . .
Mrs. Veronica DeWitt's home was different from the others in her neighborhood. Unlike some of the more modern homes, hers was a relic from the 1950s: a simple two-story home with a veranda porch that women used to sit on during the hotter evenings in the year. The paint was an old gray that made the house more low key than it actually was, maybe intentionally as Salina thought, considering the near brush with fame that her late granddaughter was exposed to.
"You want to knock first?", Rob asked as he and Salina stood at the steps of the porch staring at the door.
"Sure", Salina said walking towards the door. "I don't think she'll give us any information if we don't play this right."
Salina's knuckles had barely rapped against the door when the sound of a lock unlatching was heard. The door opened barely, just enough for an elderly woman with white hair to poke her head out. Salina and the woman stared face to face for several moments, before Salina said:
"Mrs. DeWitt?" The woman continued to stare at her.
Again Salina asked, "Mrs. Veronica DeWitt?"
"Yes?" the woman responded finally.
"Hello, my name is Salina Duran, and over there is my associate Robert Statler. We're with the Ghostbusters: Doom Patrol division in Pennsylvania." Salina showed Mrs. DeWitt a card, which the woman took and studied.
"I remember seeing you on the Conan O'Brien show a couple of days ago", Mrs. DeWitt said handing Salina's card back to her. "What do you want?"
"We wanted to ask you one or two questions about your granddaughter, Bea, Mrs. DeWitt." Rob had now walked up to the top of the veranda and was standing next to Salina.
"You're Ghostbusters; not the police.", the old woman retorted.
"I assure you, Mrs. DeWitt, that we have full authority to conduct this investigation given to us by the Philadelphia Department of Justice." Salina asserted.
"What do you want to know?" the woman asked, beginning to close the door, but Rob's mighty hand stopped her.
"If you were watching the Conan show", Rob said, "then you would know that a spirit attacked and tried to kill pop sensation Sheena Lyndon."
"I did, but what does a ghost have to do with my Bea?" Salina pulled out a picture from a pocket in her cargo pants; it was a screenshot from the show that someone had cropped. She showed this to Mrs. DeWitt. Annoyed, the woman shrugged it off, and grimaced. "I say again, what does a poorly done picture have to do with me and my granddaughter?"
Salina sighed and pulled out another picture, the one taken at the Philadelphia County Fairgrounds three years ago that Detective Madison had given Doom Patrol the previous day and held the two together. "See a resemblance yet, Mrs. DeWitt?" Salina asked half exasperated, yet with a note of triumph in her voice.
Mrs. DeWitt's face fell somewhat as she gripped the two pictures in her hands, looking at both at the same time. Rob noticed tears beginning to form in her wrinkled eyes. "May we come in, mam?" he asked. The woman nodded as she opened the door wider, letting Rob and Salina inside.
Salina had her PKE meter ready in her hand.
. . .
NEW YORK CITY
Not too long after, CJ, Andrew, and Brian stood at the front door of the penthouse that Sheena Lyndon was occupying for her visit in New York.
"Is it me", Brian said, "or do I detect the smell of Old Spice in the air?"
"Very funny Gandalf", CJ said dryly. Brian had begun snickering, as he knocked three times on the door. It swung open fast.
"The hell?" And opened enough to catch Andrew off guard, whose first instinct had caused him to grip his neutrona wand.
Standing in the doorway was a short, stocky, middle-aged man, balding at the top of his head. His face contorted into a look of arrogance and distain. "So you're the guys whose supposed to be protecting my Sheena?" he asked. His fat jowls shook as he talked.
"Yes sir", Brian answered. "We're the Ghostbusters: Doom Patrol. Since the attack occurred in New York City, it was at the suggestion of the NYPD that we watch over her while she's here."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. They called me." Extending his hand, the man said:
"Name's Paul McNeely, I'm Sheena's manager and, when she needs it, a father figure."
"I'll bet, daddy-o", Andrew said walking in. Sheena Lyndon's penthouse was nicely furnished, the interior almost peach colored. In one corner, near a large picture window that overlooked the city, was a massive Victorian style piano. The carpet was, surprising to the three Ghostbusters, not shag. In another corner of the room lay a pile of fan letters, some opened, some not, and some presents that the pop star's fans had sent to her.
"Thank you guys for coming, I know it must be a big change in your schedule." The trio turned around to see Sheena Lyndon standing near the television set. She was now wearing a Boston Red Sox jersey with blue jeans.
"It was no problem at all", CJ said gingerly stepping before her, taking a half bow. "Our services are open to anyone who requires them, great or small." Sheena giggled at the comment.
Watching this unfold, Andrew and Brian stand in bewilderment. Brian's arms are folded and his head is titled slightly to the side with a blank expression on his face, while Andrew stands erect, stroking the five o'clock shadow on his face.
At that point, Brian quietly says to Andrew, "...and people think I'M a pushover."
Sheena acknowledges CJ, "Well, thank you very much Dr. London."
"Please, call me CJ", He said. CJ was about to add, "everybody else can" when Andrew interrupted.
"As you know Miss Lyndon, we're not just here to protect you from a ghost", he said. "That spirit seemed to know who you were, and, if I remember right, it wanted you dead? Could you enlighten us as to why it didn't like you very much?"
Sheena bit her lip and looked down. "It'll all be coming out in the newspapers soon anyway." She looked at the window and began walking towards it.
"Her name, as I'm sure you've found out by now, was Beatrix DeWitt, or 'Bea' as we called her. She and I were in a duo together called Heart2Heart."
"Yeah, that's the elementary stuff", Andrew said. "But why did she want to kill you, though? That's what we want to know."
"And how did she get to be a ghost in first place?" Brian continued. "I mean, going through the official police reports, she's listed as being a 'missing person'. There was no body found nor any physical evidence to prove that she was murdered."
Sheena shrugged. "Listen, Bea was a good person and the best band mate that I've had the pleasure of being associated with, more so than the backup singers I get saddled with in the studio. She was an excellent lyricist and knew the right pitches to hit when we harmonized. She was more than just a co-worker; she was my best friend." Sheena sat down on her penthouse suite sofa and hunched herself over. "Paul?" she asked. McNeely reached into the pocket of his blazer and took out a lighter. Sheena then rimmed around inside her purse for a pack of Newport® cigarettes. Grieving with emotion, she held in her tears, sniffled, and brushed back her flowing main of hair with her hand. "But...two years ago, we had a heated falling out shortly before our first appearance on the Pat Reilly Show."
CJ stared uncomfortably at Sheena as McNeely lit her cigarette.
"Yeah, I know...mother is the name for God on the lips of all children. Nicotine is bad for me."
"Oh, that doesn't matter Ms. Lyndon. It's not bothering us. Now, The Patrick Reilly Show?" CJ asked.
"It was a small talent show that for some reason or other got the attention of a lot of big-time record producers. They were scalping the show looking for the next big thing. Bea and I were asked to appear on a Christmas episode, and, right before we went on, Bea refused to show up. The security guard said that she had gone to the ladies room, locked the stall, and began weeping, absolutely refraining to come out."
"Yeah, that's basically how it happened. We were running short on time", McNeely continued for her. "So, naturally, using my keen business sense, I suggested that Sheena should go and sing both parts until I personally handled the problem with Bea. By the time she finally agreed to come out, the show was over and it was too late. The next day, Sheena was flying out to L.A. to talk with Columbia Records execs. Bea stayed behind. She was upset about it, and I felt for her...I really did, but it's not my responsibility. She was old enough to own up to her own affairs."
McNeely continued, "and that was the beginning of Bea's mental decline."
Andrew's eyebrows furrowed, starring a whole into McNeely.
. . .
GLOUCESTER
"Bea was diagnosed as a schizophrenic", Mrs. DeWitt said handing a photograph of Beatrix as a child to Salina and Rob. "And inherited the disease from her father."
"Whatever happened to her parents?" Rob asked.
"They perished in a car collision one Christmas Eve. Her father's car swerved when he tried to avoid hitting a stray dog in the middle of the road, but wound up wrapping it around an oak tree when he lost control of the steering wheel. The police told me that the engine had leaked gasoline moments following the impact. Sparks ignited from the car battery, which consequently caused an explosion. Both of Bea's parents died in flames."
"Damn", Rob said somberly handing the picture back to her.
"I raised Bea from that time forward, watching her skills over the years. She was very talented and very beautiful." Mrs. DeWitt took a moment to compose herself. "Excuse me, dear, I truly apologize. Remembering the past as it were is too much for an old woman's heart."
"We can stop anytime you like, Mrs. DeWitt. There's no pressure if you'd rather not continue." Saline said.
"No, I'm quite all right. We can continue with your investigation. During Bea's childhood, she regularly needed to see a professional psychologist, a move of which I was against as much as I was when she decided to become a singer. But after a while, she never showed her problem. There were no more noticeable bouts of paranoia or schizophrenia, at least until she and Sheena Lyndon began touring. After she came back from the Pat Reilly show, she wasn't the same as she'd been before."
"How so?" Rob asked.
"She'd disappear for periods of time, mostly three or four days before popping up passed out in some kind of opium den. The police would always bring her home, and they even suggested I place her under clinical care. For her own personal safety, they told me." Mrs. DeWitt frowned forlornly. "I should have listened. Last year, Bea went for a drive out to Patterson to see Sheena in concert. The following day, the police found the car parked in a ditch about forty-five minutes from here. She hasn't come home since."
Salina shot Rob a look of sadness after hearing the story, and Rob could sense she was on the verge of tears herself.
"Um, if you don't mind me asking", Rob said, "but did you say earlier that you disagreed with your daughter's career choices?"
"Of course I did", Mrs. DeWitt replied. "I've seen what fame can do to a person, and, to be honest, I didn't want my Bea to be corrupted by all that. The kaleidoscope of drugs, alcohol, and sex on the road would have aggravated her condition further, which it ended up doing."
Rob inquired with his final question. "Mam, can you tell us of the exact nature of your Granddaughter's friendship with Sheena?
Mrs. DeWitt looked calmly at Statler and took in a deep breath. She closed her eyes. "They were friends. Very...close...friends."
. . .
NEW YORK CITY
"Most schizophrenic's conditions become aggravated by stress or the consumption of certain medicines." CJ said, "In fact, all mental conditions become aggravated by drugs."
"Yes", Sheena replied. "But it was just something that Bea got into on the road. Maybe it was the people we associated with or the stress of it all that drove her into that, I don't know. None of us knew that she was a substance abuser until it was too late. When I found out, I tried my best to talk her out of it. She was so headstrong and stubborn, and at times I admired...and loved her for that. If anything, aside from her mental illness, those traits that made her strong were the ones that I'm afraid killed her."
"And that's what led to her breakdown on Pat Reilly", Brian said. He was now looking in McNeely's direction. "And what did you do about the whole thing?"
"Hey kid, don't give me that look", McNeely said defensively. "I tried to get her help, paid for the best doctors and sent her to some of the best sanitariums money could buy, but she kept running away from them and others. We'd only be able to get a toe inside before she'd put up a fight. So it was in everybody's best interests that Bea quit the band. I sent her back to her grandma's place in Gloucester, and even there she caused problems. Heck, you must've read about some of the stuff she did over there in the Tattler or Enquirer. It was all bad publicity for Sheena. And damn it, I honestly think it was a good idea that she chose to make herself disappear when she did. Anymore insanity and it would've soiled the press we had going for Sheena's tour of Scandinavia and South America."
"Son of a bitch! Is that all that matters to you?!" Andrew said angrily. "This was a humans being's life and all you cared about was receiving good publicity for her friend?! You have some nerve! You should have posted guards or something to make sure she remained in those hospitals, you rat bastard!"
"Hey, F--- YOU!" McNeely huffed in Andrew's face and shouted back at him. "Yeah, I coulda' done those things, but when you're busy managing another's career, sometimes you have to cut your loses and make the best of an otherwise bad situation! Honest to God I did the best I could for her! We cared for her like family. So, don't you tell me that I didn't have Beatrix's best interest at heart!"
Sheena, already in tears, came between them. "Both of you just stop! Enough!"
"Simmer down Andy", CJ said pulling Andrew aside. "Listen, I don't like how it all ended up for Bea DeWitt as much you do, but we can't undo what's been done by flying off the handle."
"Yeah, but he could have at least shown some emotion, if any at all. He owed her that much." Andrew growled.
"May we ask you one more question?" Brian asked Sheena. She nodded. "Can you tell us if there is any reason why Bea specifically came after you on Conan O'Brien?"
"The breakup of our friendship wasn't the only thing that was broken up. We were close, ok. ::::sigh:::: Close.
. . .
GLOUCESTER
Mrs. DeWitt continued her story to Salina and Rob. "They were inseparable to each other, but deeply competitive young women."
"You mean Sheena and Bea were rivals", Salina said.
"In the bitterest sense of the word: the times that Sheena was over here, the two of them disagreed a lot over songs and such. Like who should get the most credit for penning the lyrics." Mrs. DeWitt said getting up and going to a nearby drawer, "I have something to show you."
She opened it slowly, and pulled out the first item that came to her hands. It was a faded pink notebook, frayed at the sides from the ravages of time. She handed the book to Salina, who opened it and came upon a page entitled, "Tomorrow's Memories". There were lyrics underneath the title. As Salina read it, her eyebrows began to rise.
"This was on Sheena Lyndon's first album, wasn't it?" she said.
"I don't know, I have never bought any of Sheena's records. Never had the need to." Salina continued flipping through the rest of the notebook, discovering that it was filled with lyrics, sometimes five to a page.
"Whenever she returned home from school and finished her homework, Bea would always write down songs, never knowing whether or not she'd be able to use them in the long run. I guess now none of this matter." "But", she continued, "Their rivalry, as you say Ms. Duran, boiled down to their conflict over whom deserved credit for their songs."
"Would you mind if I kept this?" Salina asked quietly. Mrs. DeWitt looked quizzically at her for a moment, and then nodded her head.
"Thank you."
. . .
"Were you getting a weird vibe in there too?" Rob asked outside as the two were presently leaving Veronica DeWitt's home. They had spent short of an hour talking with Mrs. DeWitt, but enough time had passed for the half-moon to replace the sun, initiating the day into becoming night. They walked towards the Ecto-M, the notebook gripped tightly in Salina's hands.
"I have reason to believe that Bea was there or had been there", she replied. "Maybe her grandmother didn't know it, but the PKE picked up faint ectoplasmic readings."
"So, what do you think about all this? Statler asked. "Grandmother kills granddaughter to save her from the death of stardom?"
"Dunno. It's too bizarre. Is an honorable death one by the blood of one's own kin or a lowly death of the pressures of superstardom? I'd rather not think about that possibility."
"Nor do I. Even if that were the case, a crime like that wouldn't hold up well under court. Not enough evidence to make that conviction "
"Let's hope Brian and the others managed to come up with something better before we contact Detective Madison." After reading through most of the notebook, Salina pointed out another interesting facet. She handed it to Statler. "Rob, take a look at this. Look closely."
Not understanding what she meant initially, Statler gazed over the notebook a little more thoroughly. Then he noticed what Salina was trying to point out. "Many of the lyrics of these songs have mixed penmanship. Beatrix and Sheena wrote those songs together didn't they?"
Salina squinted her eyes as the overhead streetlight shone directly in her face. She partially put her hand above her eyes to block out the brightness. "Yeah; this explains a lot. It's unique that their lyrical compositions were made this way. By this, that legally makes Beatrix and Sheena equal partners."
"Hmm?" Rob replied as he removed the keys for the car from his pocket.
"There is more to this case than meets the eye." Salina remarked before entering the passenger side of the vehicle.
Chapter 2: Wish You Were Here
CJ, Brian, and Andrew had spent the night previously in an apartment across the hall from Sheena's, although Andrew had volunteered to hold a night vigil standing at the front door of Sheena's suite. Back in the basement of Doom Patrol Headquarters, CJ was working with Rob on the final adjustments to their E.C.U. On one knee, CJ tightened steels bolts onto a metal panel on the opening latch of the ghost trap entrance of the machine.
"Okay", CJ said to Rob, "What we know is this: Beatrix DeWitt had a long history of diagnosed paranoia and schizophrenia. While on road tours, she got herself screwed-up pretty bad. More likely she succumbed to the pressures and unrelenting schedule of travel and rising fame. What ever it was, it doesn't matter. What does matter is who our suspects are. We have the grandmother, Veronica DeWitt, with a possible motive of foul play. As bizarre as it seems, she could very well have had something to do with Bea's whereabouts. One scenario could be that she faked Bea's disappearance to protect her from harming herself, because at the route her life was on...Bea more than likely would have perished sooner than later. Further more, the accident reports stated that it was Mrs. DeWitt who was the first to place in the call that she was missing, long before the police found her car in a ditch?"
"Mrs. DeWitt didn't mention that part to Salina and me", Rob said. "And from our understanding, she and her grandmother were very close."
"So was that woman who drowned her 3 children in a lake in North Carolina back in 1996. Sadly, we cannot rule Mrs. DeWitt out of this investigation", CJ replied. "Suspect 2 is Paul McNeely: he practically admitted his own guilt when he said that it was a good thing that Bea went missing shortly before the first leg of Sheena's tour of Europe."
"You got a point there", Rob retorted, extending his open hand for CJ to grab it and pull him up.
"You forgot another important suspect." CJ turned his head surprised to see Erin in the basement. "Sheena Lyndon had the most to gain from Bea's downfall. That appearance on the Pat O'Reilly show gave her a great boost in her career."
"True", Rob said. "Although that still doesn't mean she'd kill her best friend just to further along her own career...would it?"
"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men and women?" CJ joked, taking on Orson Welles "Shadow" voice.
Rob smiles, looks at Erin, and shakes his head in amusement while pointing his thumb in CJ's direction, "He never gives up."
"Oh, I almost forgot why I came down here." She handed CJ an envelope. "It's from Detective Madison."
"What's it say?" Rob asked as CJ opened it and began skimming it. CJ looked at him briefly and continued studying the document.
"It's a bank record", he said simply handing it to Rob. "Apparently they're all amounts that Sheena paid her production crew between the year 2002 and 2003. The last amount, as you see, ended on October 3, 2003."
"Two days later, Beatrix DeWitt goes missing and almost a year later comes back to haunt her former employer", Erin added.
"Whoa" Rob said, "let me get this straight: this means that even after Bea had her breakdown, she was still getting paid."
"That's what it says", CJ said as be bowed his head and quizzically cupped his hands, while tapping his index fingers on his nose. "But for how much and who was her benefactor?"
"I would say the record company probably had a hand in it", Erin said. "There are too many zeroes for those checks to have come directly from Sheena, so somebody up there would have had to have been paying Beatrix for something."
Rob thought for a second. "Songwriting", he said simply.
"Songwriting?" Erin and CJ simultaneously asked.
"Yeah, when Salina and I went over to Bea's grandmother's house, she gave us a notebook full of songs that appear on Sheena's albums."
"But who could have commissioned her to write material for her?" Erin asked.
"They both did, Erin" Rob spoke up. "Every last song in that notebook was co-written by Sheena and Beatrix."
"You know what?" Erin asked.
"What?" CJ and Rob replied.
"Since they co-wrote the songs, they both have equally billing. Bea turns up missing, but her ghost is active, which means she must be dead. If Bea is still being compensated for her earnings working with Sheena post mortem, doesn't that mean that the money is going to somewhere or to someone?
Rob put his hands on his hips and looked at Erin. "Well, I'll be damned."
"If that's the case, then Bea's death could not have been an accident." CJ remarked.
"And we've only got 10 hours before Sheena's performance tonight at the Hippodrome", Rob grabs a oil rag from a nearby work bench and wipes his hands clean of dirt. He takes out a toothpick from his pocket and puts it in his mouth. Turning his back to Erin and CJ, he folds his arms somberly "We need to be ready for another attack."
Chapter 3: Etude, Sheena?
Five hours later at Doom Patrol Headquarters...
"...So that is the situation", CJ explained to the others. "Not as concrete as what you might have thought, but is still the only plausible theories that we have at this time."
Most of the group was upstairs, huddled around Erin's desk. On top of it were papers and photographs of Beatrix DeWitt, Sheena Lyndon, and the rest of the players in the drama. Just then, a door could be heard creaking open in the background. Everyone turns around to see Salina walk into the personnel office. Nearly a half hour ago, it had begun pouring rain outside; Salina was wrapped up tight, dripping wet. After closing the door behind her, she put away her coat on the rack behind the seating area.
Salina shook away some of the water off of her clothes and ran her fingers through her slingy, raven-colored hair, pushing it back so she could see. "Nice night isn't it?" Salina joked.
"Indeed it is", CJ replied.
"Well, everyone, I just came from a meeting with Detective Madison", Rob said. "He'll have backup ready for us at tonight's concert just in case anything happens. After our more recent television debut on NBC, he said he's not taking any chances. His exact words were 'if you screw up, its my ass'."
"Its reassuring to know that he has complete and utter confidence in our abilities." Andrew sarcastically said with his foot propped up on a chair near Erin's desk while cracking his knuckles at the same time.
CJ continued with his speech, "Before you walked in, Salina, we were discussing the facts of this case. To make a long story short, we know what we got, but we don't know where it's going. Everyone is a suspect, but they all have concrete alibis.
Stroking his chin, Andrew said:
"Well, I don't like that McNeely. I trust him about as far as I can throw him. Give me 5 minutes in a room alone with him and he'll be begging to come clean."
"Yeah", Brian agreed. "Seems like he's the kind of guy who'd sell out his own mother for a few grand."
"But wait a minute", Brian interjected. "We can't honestly say that it's all McNeely's fault that Bea went down. Remember, Sheena said that she was trying to get Bea to kick her drug addiction."
"Right," Erin said, "but then you gotta ask yourselves how Bea got hooked in the beginning. Common sense says that she must have been coerced into consuming that stuff. It's the way of the street, supply and demand. Drug pushers offer an easy way out at a cheap price. At the point in her life where she was, she became easily susceptible and depressed enough to try it. Because think about it, no one in their right mind would willingly waste their life away, especially if they were on the verge of superstardom. Now, we know that Bea had been receiving a lot of money for her time spent on her rise to fame with Sheena, and that following her apparent death, the checks never stopped coming. The question to ask is, who would have the most to gain from Beatrix's death?"
"What are you getting at, Erin?" CJ said as a trepid expression grew on his face.
"CJ, I'm sorry to say it, but maybe Sheena is responsible for her death and possibly for introducing her to drugs. You spoke with her before, and you said she seemed more nerve-wracked over this more than anyone else. Her alibi isn't as tight as the other suspects," Erin said.
CJ stood firmly and frowned in denial, "I have a hard time believing that. She doesn't seem like the type and couldn't possibly..."
Interrupting CJ, Rob sighed listlessly and looked at both he and Erin "And Mrs. DeWitt's claims were true that they have been competitive rivals over the years. As much as I hate to say it, Sheena may be directly involved because she has everything to gain. "
"So we can assume that Sheena, consumed with selfishness, got her on drugs, which aggravated her mental condition to the point where she had a complete mental breakdown", Erin explained. "That got her out of the way professionally, but the supposed victim was still alive and something had to be done about that. She takes advantage of Bea's disappearances and finds her somewhere and takes her for a drive, most likely in her own car, leaving Bea's car in that ditch most likely. Whatever happens after that is probable guesswork."
"But it all leads to the same thing still", Brian said, having been quiet and listening most of the time. "Bea was killed, her body never found, and now she's back to reek vengeance on her murderer."
"You don't look too well CJ", Salina said, noticing that CJ had suddenly gone pale and had sat down.
"I...I just don't believe that she can be capable of such a thing", he said. "She doesn't seem like the type to do that."
"Like you said down in the basement", Rob said, "'who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men and women'."
CJ didn't say anything. He got up solemnly from his chair and said:
"I have to go call Madison and tell him what we've managed to come up with. You guys go ahead and start packing the Ecto-M. We're expected to be there as protection tonight."
Salina spoke out, "But, CJ..."
"We'll do our job the way it's meant to be done."
Chapter 1: An Explanation of Sorts
With his left arm leaning halfway outside of the driver's side window, Statler rhythmically tapped the door of the Ecto-Millennium. The vehicle had been a laborious project that had taken him the better part of several weeks of focused toiling and sleepless nights to complete. The sirens of the massive stretch hearse were silent and its headlights were slightly dimmed. Painted a pristine black, the car's metallic blue lining gleamed radiantly in the mid-evening twilight. On the hood of the engine was the familiar NO-GHOST emblem of Doom Patrol.
"Tell me again now, why are we heading toward Gloucester Township, New Jersey?" Rob asked as his eyes diverted to a sign above the overpass that read NOW ENTERING GLOUCESTER COUNTY.
Salina sat in the passenger seat, thumbing through the preliminary reports that Detective Madison had given the team the day before. "To try to make some sense of what the hell happened the other night at the television studio", she said simply, nodding to the left, indicating for Rob to take the next exit.
"The reports said that Beatrix DeWitt used to live in this area all her life. We need to start from scratch."
Salina opened a folder containing the reports she just mentioned, fliped through, and came across a black and white photograph, attached by a paperclip, of an elderly woman sitting on a gazebo with a young girl.
Rob shifts his head to take a brief look at the image. "Who's the old lady?"
"Beatrix's only remaining next of kin; her grandmother, Veronica DeWitt. We're short on leads and this is as good a place to start as any. Hopefully, she can shed some light between the connection of the ghost that attacked Sheena on Late Night and why it involves Beatrix "
"Can't imagine why she would disappear at the height of her career. That don't make no sense." Rob added.
Salina shrugged as the Ecto-M lazily turned into town. "Guess that's why Detective Madison and the Philly P.D had so much trouble with this case in the beginning: no body, no witnesses, and no motive."
"Good point", Rob replied as he turned the vehicle down a street. He then reached down to turn up the volume on the radio on the control panel and changed the bandwidth tuner to Q-102, his favorite music station. The radio jockey's voice could be heard from the front and rear speakers of the Ecto- M.
"Gooooooood evening everyone. You're listening to Q-102; Philadelphia #1 hit music station. As always, I'm DJ Quick and this is my partner and playette in crime Ms. Lisa Jones."
Jones: "Hey y'all!"
Quick: "Aight', just a reminder for all of you tuning in now that later on, we'll have a special guest coming to ya' live from the studio. No introduction is needed for this man; he is Philly's hometown hero and the supreme thrilling machine of basketball...Allen Iverson! He is fresh hot on the scene these days. You don't wanna miss this interview folks, so stick around. Right now, Lisa has something to say, so brothas', pay attention lest you miss out on the sultry words of Ms. Jones."
Jones: "Hello, boys, it's Friday and you know what that means. The weekend is here and I'm ready to play. Who wants to come and play with me? (DJ Quick raises his hand eagerly) Hahaha! Easy yourself, Quick. Tonight at 10pm, The Suede Lounge is hosting its annual dance contest to raise money for renovations to the new gym and recreation center at Center City's local YMCA. Quick and I will be there to MC the event and those of you who prove your worth tonight will have the opportunity to meet and share a grind with me on the dance floor. So come on you eligible men...and women. Join us there and support a good cause. Groove now or forever hold your peace."
Quick: "That's right. You heard it from the lips of Ms. Jones first hand. Be there with us, drink up, dance, and loose yourself. Cover charge at the door is $15 for men, $12 dollars for women. Half of all proceeds will go to the YMCA. For directions to The Suede Lounge, log on to their website at www.suedelounge.com. Now that's out the way, Q-102 is gonna take you back...old school style. Since its hot out there in the city, we're gonna grace you with a familiar hit by DJ Jazzy Jeff and Will "The Fresh Prince" Smith."
(Intro to "Summertime" plays)
::Summer, summer, summertime
Time to sit back and unwind::
Rob smiled as he again began to tap the side of the car along with the music over the radio. "I grew up on his music."
Looking up from reading over the files, Salina puts on her blue-tinted shades. "I'm actually more into 80s pop and Duran-Duran."
"That's cool, girl. You know I..." Then it dawned on him. "Wait a second...Duran-Duran, Salina Duran?"
Salina then innocently smiled to herself.
Not too far down the block from where they were driving, the two Ghostbusters noticed children playing water sports outside of their homes on their front lawns. The sun had not quite gone down for the evening, but it was still warm enough for children to run around playing with water balloons and swimming in their pools. The crisp, sweet smell of grilled honey barbecued chicken filled the air of the suburban township. Salina had spent many years away from home on expeditions in the Great White North and much of Eastern Europe. As she looked on seeing the children play and families gather in fellowship, she thought about how much she missed being away from her family and former life in Canada.
"Hey, big man", Rob said hanging out of the driver's window. One of the children, a portly Asian boy, walked up to the car. "Can you help us out real quick, we're looking for someone."
"Who's that?" the boy asked.
"Do you know a Mrs. Veronica DeWitt or if she live around here?"
"Miz DeWitt?" the boy replied in a distinct New Jersey accent. "Yeah, she's just up the road here, and when you get to Tommy's house, just make a left turn and you'll see her house."
"Okay, what color house does Tommy live in?" Rob asked smirking.
"What's it to ya'"?
"Huh?" Rob got a kick out of this. He looks over to Salina. "Ain't that a..."
Salina inches over and looks past his shoulder.
"Ok, kid, I respect that. You drive a hard bargain," Rob said digging inside his pocket. He pulled out a half dollar and tossed it to the boy.
"That's all?" The boy wined
Statler persists, "Tell me what I want to know and I'll give you the rest."
"OK. Tommy's house is tan with a black roof."
"Good boy." The muscular Doom Patrolman tossed him another half-dollar. "You've just learned a valuable lesson, son. Don't ever hustle a hustler." And with that, the Ecto-M drove away.
"What did you mean by the last thing you said to that boy?" Salina asked.
"Salina, kids today are either greedy or lazy. Next time, that little kid will think twice before he decides to screw someone over. Wait till he discovers that the inscription on the other half dollar reads PROPERTY OF ATLANTIC CITY.
"What am I going to do with you, baldy?" A wide grin on her face, Salina said as they drove in the direction the boy had given them. "And you know what? I never noticed it before, but you have an accent."
"I should, I used to live about an hour's drive from where we are now before I got snapped up by the U.S. Special Weapons and Vehicles Division and was shipped all the way out to...."
"Dalton", Salina finished for him, grinning from ear to ear. "We both know how the story comes out anyway."
. . .
Mrs. Veronica DeWitt's home was different from the others in her neighborhood. Unlike some of the more modern homes, hers was a relic from the 1950s: a simple two-story home with a veranda porch that women used to sit on during the hotter evenings in the year. The paint was an old gray that made the house more low key than it actually was, maybe intentionally as Salina thought, considering the near brush with fame that her late granddaughter was exposed to.
"You want to knock first?", Rob asked as he and Salina stood at the steps of the porch staring at the door.
"Sure", Salina said walking towards the door. "I don't think she'll give us any information if we don't play this right."
Salina's knuckles had barely rapped against the door when the sound of a lock unlatching was heard. The door opened barely, just enough for an elderly woman with white hair to poke her head out. Salina and the woman stared face to face for several moments, before Salina said:
"Mrs. DeWitt?" The woman continued to stare at her.
Again Salina asked, "Mrs. Veronica DeWitt?"
"Yes?" the woman responded finally.
"Hello, my name is Salina Duran, and over there is my associate Robert Statler. We're with the Ghostbusters: Doom Patrol division in Pennsylvania." Salina showed Mrs. DeWitt a card, which the woman took and studied.
"I remember seeing you on the Conan O'Brien show a couple of days ago", Mrs. DeWitt said handing Salina's card back to her. "What do you want?"
"We wanted to ask you one or two questions about your granddaughter, Bea, Mrs. DeWitt." Rob had now walked up to the top of the veranda and was standing next to Salina.
"You're Ghostbusters; not the police.", the old woman retorted.
"I assure you, Mrs. DeWitt, that we have full authority to conduct this investigation given to us by the Philadelphia Department of Justice." Salina asserted.
"What do you want to know?" the woman asked, beginning to close the door, but Rob's mighty hand stopped her.
"If you were watching the Conan show", Rob said, "then you would know that a spirit attacked and tried to kill pop sensation Sheena Lyndon."
"I did, but what does a ghost have to do with my Bea?" Salina pulled out a picture from a pocket in her cargo pants; it was a screenshot from the show that someone had cropped. She showed this to Mrs. DeWitt. Annoyed, the woman shrugged it off, and grimaced. "I say again, what does a poorly done picture have to do with me and my granddaughter?"
Salina sighed and pulled out another picture, the one taken at the Philadelphia County Fairgrounds three years ago that Detective Madison had given Doom Patrol the previous day and held the two together. "See a resemblance yet, Mrs. DeWitt?" Salina asked half exasperated, yet with a note of triumph in her voice.
Mrs. DeWitt's face fell somewhat as she gripped the two pictures in her hands, looking at both at the same time. Rob noticed tears beginning to form in her wrinkled eyes. "May we come in, mam?" he asked. The woman nodded as she opened the door wider, letting Rob and Salina inside.
Salina had her PKE meter ready in her hand.
. . .
NEW YORK CITY
Not too long after, CJ, Andrew, and Brian stood at the front door of the penthouse that Sheena Lyndon was occupying for her visit in New York.
"Is it me", Brian said, "or do I detect the smell of Old Spice in the air?"
"Very funny Gandalf", CJ said dryly. Brian had begun snickering, as he knocked three times on the door. It swung open fast.
"The hell?" And opened enough to catch Andrew off guard, whose first instinct had caused him to grip his neutrona wand.
Standing in the doorway was a short, stocky, middle-aged man, balding at the top of his head. His face contorted into a look of arrogance and distain. "So you're the guys whose supposed to be protecting my Sheena?" he asked. His fat jowls shook as he talked.
"Yes sir", Brian answered. "We're the Ghostbusters: Doom Patrol. Since the attack occurred in New York City, it was at the suggestion of the NYPD that we watch over her while she's here."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. They called me." Extending his hand, the man said:
"Name's Paul McNeely, I'm Sheena's manager and, when she needs it, a father figure."
"I'll bet, daddy-o", Andrew said walking in. Sheena Lyndon's penthouse was nicely furnished, the interior almost peach colored. In one corner, near a large picture window that overlooked the city, was a massive Victorian style piano. The carpet was, surprising to the three Ghostbusters, not shag. In another corner of the room lay a pile of fan letters, some opened, some not, and some presents that the pop star's fans had sent to her.
"Thank you guys for coming, I know it must be a big change in your schedule." The trio turned around to see Sheena Lyndon standing near the television set. She was now wearing a Boston Red Sox jersey with blue jeans.
"It was no problem at all", CJ said gingerly stepping before her, taking a half bow. "Our services are open to anyone who requires them, great or small." Sheena giggled at the comment.
Watching this unfold, Andrew and Brian stand in bewilderment. Brian's arms are folded and his head is titled slightly to the side with a blank expression on his face, while Andrew stands erect, stroking the five o'clock shadow on his face.
At that point, Brian quietly says to Andrew, "...and people think I'M a pushover."
Sheena acknowledges CJ, "Well, thank you very much Dr. London."
"Please, call me CJ", He said. CJ was about to add, "everybody else can" when Andrew interrupted.
"As you know Miss Lyndon, we're not just here to protect you from a ghost", he said. "That spirit seemed to know who you were, and, if I remember right, it wanted you dead? Could you enlighten us as to why it didn't like you very much?"
Sheena bit her lip and looked down. "It'll all be coming out in the newspapers soon anyway." She looked at the window and began walking towards it.
"Her name, as I'm sure you've found out by now, was Beatrix DeWitt, or 'Bea' as we called her. She and I were in a duo together called Heart2Heart."
"Yeah, that's the elementary stuff", Andrew said. "But why did she want to kill you, though? That's what we want to know."
"And how did she get to be a ghost in first place?" Brian continued. "I mean, going through the official police reports, she's listed as being a 'missing person'. There was no body found nor any physical evidence to prove that she was murdered."
Sheena shrugged. "Listen, Bea was a good person and the best band mate that I've had the pleasure of being associated with, more so than the backup singers I get saddled with in the studio. She was an excellent lyricist and knew the right pitches to hit when we harmonized. She was more than just a co-worker; she was my best friend." Sheena sat down on her penthouse suite sofa and hunched herself over. "Paul?" she asked. McNeely reached into the pocket of his blazer and took out a lighter. Sheena then rimmed around inside her purse for a pack of Newport® cigarettes. Grieving with emotion, she held in her tears, sniffled, and brushed back her flowing main of hair with her hand. "But...two years ago, we had a heated falling out shortly before our first appearance on the Pat Reilly Show."
CJ stared uncomfortably at Sheena as McNeely lit her cigarette.
"Yeah, I know...mother is the name for God on the lips of all children. Nicotine is bad for me."
"Oh, that doesn't matter Ms. Lyndon. It's not bothering us. Now, The Patrick Reilly Show?" CJ asked.
"It was a small talent show that for some reason or other got the attention of a lot of big-time record producers. They were scalping the show looking for the next big thing. Bea and I were asked to appear on a Christmas episode, and, right before we went on, Bea refused to show up. The security guard said that she had gone to the ladies room, locked the stall, and began weeping, absolutely refraining to come out."
"Yeah, that's basically how it happened. We were running short on time", McNeely continued for her. "So, naturally, using my keen business sense, I suggested that Sheena should go and sing both parts until I personally handled the problem with Bea. By the time she finally agreed to come out, the show was over and it was too late. The next day, Sheena was flying out to L.A. to talk with Columbia Records execs. Bea stayed behind. She was upset about it, and I felt for her...I really did, but it's not my responsibility. She was old enough to own up to her own affairs."
McNeely continued, "and that was the beginning of Bea's mental decline."
Andrew's eyebrows furrowed, starring a whole into McNeely.
. . .
GLOUCESTER
"Bea was diagnosed as a schizophrenic", Mrs. DeWitt said handing a photograph of Beatrix as a child to Salina and Rob. "And inherited the disease from her father."
"Whatever happened to her parents?" Rob asked.
"They perished in a car collision one Christmas Eve. Her father's car swerved when he tried to avoid hitting a stray dog in the middle of the road, but wound up wrapping it around an oak tree when he lost control of the steering wheel. The police told me that the engine had leaked gasoline moments following the impact. Sparks ignited from the car battery, which consequently caused an explosion. Both of Bea's parents died in flames."
"Damn", Rob said somberly handing the picture back to her.
"I raised Bea from that time forward, watching her skills over the years. She was very talented and very beautiful." Mrs. DeWitt took a moment to compose herself. "Excuse me, dear, I truly apologize. Remembering the past as it were is too much for an old woman's heart."
"We can stop anytime you like, Mrs. DeWitt. There's no pressure if you'd rather not continue." Saline said.
"No, I'm quite all right. We can continue with your investigation. During Bea's childhood, she regularly needed to see a professional psychologist, a move of which I was against as much as I was when she decided to become a singer. But after a while, she never showed her problem. There were no more noticeable bouts of paranoia or schizophrenia, at least until she and Sheena Lyndon began touring. After she came back from the Pat Reilly show, she wasn't the same as she'd been before."
"How so?" Rob asked.
"She'd disappear for periods of time, mostly three or four days before popping up passed out in some kind of opium den. The police would always bring her home, and they even suggested I place her under clinical care. For her own personal safety, they told me." Mrs. DeWitt frowned forlornly. "I should have listened. Last year, Bea went for a drive out to Patterson to see Sheena in concert. The following day, the police found the car parked in a ditch about forty-five minutes from here. She hasn't come home since."
Salina shot Rob a look of sadness after hearing the story, and Rob could sense she was on the verge of tears herself.
"Um, if you don't mind me asking", Rob said, "but did you say earlier that you disagreed with your daughter's career choices?"
"Of course I did", Mrs. DeWitt replied. "I've seen what fame can do to a person, and, to be honest, I didn't want my Bea to be corrupted by all that. The kaleidoscope of drugs, alcohol, and sex on the road would have aggravated her condition further, which it ended up doing."
Rob inquired with his final question. "Mam, can you tell us of the exact nature of your Granddaughter's friendship with Sheena?
Mrs. DeWitt looked calmly at Statler and took in a deep breath. She closed her eyes. "They were friends. Very...close...friends."
. . .
NEW YORK CITY
"Most schizophrenic's conditions become aggravated by stress or the consumption of certain medicines." CJ said, "In fact, all mental conditions become aggravated by drugs."
"Yes", Sheena replied. "But it was just something that Bea got into on the road. Maybe it was the people we associated with or the stress of it all that drove her into that, I don't know. None of us knew that she was a substance abuser until it was too late. When I found out, I tried my best to talk her out of it. She was so headstrong and stubborn, and at times I admired...and loved her for that. If anything, aside from her mental illness, those traits that made her strong were the ones that I'm afraid killed her."
"And that's what led to her breakdown on Pat Reilly", Brian said. He was now looking in McNeely's direction. "And what did you do about the whole thing?"
"Hey kid, don't give me that look", McNeely said defensively. "I tried to get her help, paid for the best doctors and sent her to some of the best sanitariums money could buy, but she kept running away from them and others. We'd only be able to get a toe inside before she'd put up a fight. So it was in everybody's best interests that Bea quit the band. I sent her back to her grandma's place in Gloucester, and even there she caused problems. Heck, you must've read about some of the stuff she did over there in the Tattler or Enquirer. It was all bad publicity for Sheena. And damn it, I honestly think it was a good idea that she chose to make herself disappear when she did. Anymore insanity and it would've soiled the press we had going for Sheena's tour of Scandinavia and South America."
"Son of a bitch! Is that all that matters to you?!" Andrew said angrily. "This was a humans being's life and all you cared about was receiving good publicity for her friend?! You have some nerve! You should have posted guards or something to make sure she remained in those hospitals, you rat bastard!"
"Hey, F--- YOU!" McNeely huffed in Andrew's face and shouted back at him. "Yeah, I coulda' done those things, but when you're busy managing another's career, sometimes you have to cut your loses and make the best of an otherwise bad situation! Honest to God I did the best I could for her! We cared for her like family. So, don't you tell me that I didn't have Beatrix's best interest at heart!"
Sheena, already in tears, came between them. "Both of you just stop! Enough!"
"Simmer down Andy", CJ said pulling Andrew aside. "Listen, I don't like how it all ended up for Bea DeWitt as much you do, but we can't undo what's been done by flying off the handle."
"Yeah, but he could have at least shown some emotion, if any at all. He owed her that much." Andrew growled.
"May we ask you one more question?" Brian asked Sheena. She nodded. "Can you tell us if there is any reason why Bea specifically came after you on Conan O'Brien?"
"The breakup of our friendship wasn't the only thing that was broken up. We were close, ok. ::::sigh:::: Close.
. . .
GLOUCESTER
Mrs. DeWitt continued her story to Salina and Rob. "They were inseparable to each other, but deeply competitive young women."
"You mean Sheena and Bea were rivals", Salina said.
"In the bitterest sense of the word: the times that Sheena was over here, the two of them disagreed a lot over songs and such. Like who should get the most credit for penning the lyrics." Mrs. DeWitt said getting up and going to a nearby drawer, "I have something to show you."
She opened it slowly, and pulled out the first item that came to her hands. It was a faded pink notebook, frayed at the sides from the ravages of time. She handed the book to Salina, who opened it and came upon a page entitled, "Tomorrow's Memories". There were lyrics underneath the title. As Salina read it, her eyebrows began to rise.
"This was on Sheena Lyndon's first album, wasn't it?" she said.
"I don't know, I have never bought any of Sheena's records. Never had the need to." Salina continued flipping through the rest of the notebook, discovering that it was filled with lyrics, sometimes five to a page.
"Whenever she returned home from school and finished her homework, Bea would always write down songs, never knowing whether or not she'd be able to use them in the long run. I guess now none of this matter." "But", she continued, "Their rivalry, as you say Ms. Duran, boiled down to their conflict over whom deserved credit for their songs."
"Would you mind if I kept this?" Salina asked quietly. Mrs. DeWitt looked quizzically at her for a moment, and then nodded her head.
"Thank you."
. . .
"Were you getting a weird vibe in there too?" Rob asked outside as the two were presently leaving Veronica DeWitt's home. They had spent short of an hour talking with Mrs. DeWitt, but enough time had passed for the half-moon to replace the sun, initiating the day into becoming night. They walked towards the Ecto-M, the notebook gripped tightly in Salina's hands.
"I have reason to believe that Bea was there or had been there", she replied. "Maybe her grandmother didn't know it, but the PKE picked up faint ectoplasmic readings."
"So, what do you think about all this? Statler asked. "Grandmother kills granddaughter to save her from the death of stardom?"
"Dunno. It's too bizarre. Is an honorable death one by the blood of one's own kin or a lowly death of the pressures of superstardom? I'd rather not think about that possibility."
"Nor do I. Even if that were the case, a crime like that wouldn't hold up well under court. Not enough evidence to make that conviction "
"Let's hope Brian and the others managed to come up with something better before we contact Detective Madison." After reading through most of the notebook, Salina pointed out another interesting facet. She handed it to Statler. "Rob, take a look at this. Look closely."
Not understanding what she meant initially, Statler gazed over the notebook a little more thoroughly. Then he noticed what Salina was trying to point out. "Many of the lyrics of these songs have mixed penmanship. Beatrix and Sheena wrote those songs together didn't they?"
Salina squinted her eyes as the overhead streetlight shone directly in her face. She partially put her hand above her eyes to block out the brightness. "Yeah; this explains a lot. It's unique that their lyrical compositions were made this way. By this, that legally makes Beatrix and Sheena equal partners."
"Hmm?" Rob replied as he removed the keys for the car from his pocket.
"There is more to this case than meets the eye." Salina remarked before entering the passenger side of the vehicle.
Chapter 2: Wish You Were Here
CJ, Brian, and Andrew had spent the night previously in an apartment across the hall from Sheena's, although Andrew had volunteered to hold a night vigil standing at the front door of Sheena's suite. Back in the basement of Doom Patrol Headquarters, CJ was working with Rob on the final adjustments to their E.C.U. On one knee, CJ tightened steels bolts onto a metal panel on the opening latch of the ghost trap entrance of the machine.
"Okay", CJ said to Rob, "What we know is this: Beatrix DeWitt had a long history of diagnosed paranoia and schizophrenia. While on road tours, she got herself screwed-up pretty bad. More likely she succumbed to the pressures and unrelenting schedule of travel and rising fame. What ever it was, it doesn't matter. What does matter is who our suspects are. We have the grandmother, Veronica DeWitt, with a possible motive of foul play. As bizarre as it seems, she could very well have had something to do with Bea's whereabouts. One scenario could be that she faked Bea's disappearance to protect her from harming herself, because at the route her life was on...Bea more than likely would have perished sooner than later. Further more, the accident reports stated that it was Mrs. DeWitt who was the first to place in the call that she was missing, long before the police found her car in a ditch?"
"Mrs. DeWitt didn't mention that part to Salina and me", Rob said. "And from our understanding, she and her grandmother were very close."
"So was that woman who drowned her 3 children in a lake in North Carolina back in 1996. Sadly, we cannot rule Mrs. DeWitt out of this investigation", CJ replied. "Suspect 2 is Paul McNeely: he practically admitted his own guilt when he said that it was a good thing that Bea went missing shortly before the first leg of Sheena's tour of Europe."
"You got a point there", Rob retorted, extending his open hand for CJ to grab it and pull him up.
"You forgot another important suspect." CJ turned his head surprised to see Erin in the basement. "Sheena Lyndon had the most to gain from Bea's downfall. That appearance on the Pat O'Reilly show gave her a great boost in her career."
"True", Rob said. "Although that still doesn't mean she'd kill her best friend just to further along her own career...would it?"
"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men and women?" CJ joked, taking on Orson Welles "Shadow" voice.
Rob smiles, looks at Erin, and shakes his head in amusement while pointing his thumb in CJ's direction, "He never gives up."
"Oh, I almost forgot why I came down here." She handed CJ an envelope. "It's from Detective Madison."
"What's it say?" Rob asked as CJ opened it and began skimming it. CJ looked at him briefly and continued studying the document.
"It's a bank record", he said simply handing it to Rob. "Apparently they're all amounts that Sheena paid her production crew between the year 2002 and 2003. The last amount, as you see, ended on October 3, 2003."
"Two days later, Beatrix DeWitt goes missing and almost a year later comes back to haunt her former employer", Erin added.
"Whoa" Rob said, "let me get this straight: this means that even after Bea had her breakdown, she was still getting paid."
"That's what it says", CJ said as be bowed his head and quizzically cupped his hands, while tapping his index fingers on his nose. "But for how much and who was her benefactor?"
"I would say the record company probably had a hand in it", Erin said. "There are too many zeroes for those checks to have come directly from Sheena, so somebody up there would have had to have been paying Beatrix for something."
Rob thought for a second. "Songwriting", he said simply.
"Songwriting?" Erin and CJ simultaneously asked.
"Yeah, when Salina and I went over to Bea's grandmother's house, she gave us a notebook full of songs that appear on Sheena's albums."
"But who could have commissioned her to write material for her?" Erin asked.
"They both did, Erin" Rob spoke up. "Every last song in that notebook was co-written by Sheena and Beatrix."
"You know what?" Erin asked.
"What?" CJ and Rob replied.
"Since they co-wrote the songs, they both have equally billing. Bea turns up missing, but her ghost is active, which means she must be dead. If Bea is still being compensated for her earnings working with Sheena post mortem, doesn't that mean that the money is going to somewhere or to someone?
Rob put his hands on his hips and looked at Erin. "Well, I'll be damned."
"If that's the case, then Bea's death could not have been an accident." CJ remarked.
"And we've only got 10 hours before Sheena's performance tonight at the Hippodrome", Rob grabs a oil rag from a nearby work bench and wipes his hands clean of dirt. He takes out a toothpick from his pocket and puts it in his mouth. Turning his back to Erin and CJ, he folds his arms somberly "We need to be ready for another attack."
Chapter 3: Etude, Sheena?
Five hours later at Doom Patrol Headquarters...
"...So that is the situation", CJ explained to the others. "Not as concrete as what you might have thought, but is still the only plausible theories that we have at this time."
Most of the group was upstairs, huddled around Erin's desk. On top of it were papers and photographs of Beatrix DeWitt, Sheena Lyndon, and the rest of the players in the drama. Just then, a door could be heard creaking open in the background. Everyone turns around to see Salina walk into the personnel office. Nearly a half hour ago, it had begun pouring rain outside; Salina was wrapped up tight, dripping wet. After closing the door behind her, she put away her coat on the rack behind the seating area.
Salina shook away some of the water off of her clothes and ran her fingers through her slingy, raven-colored hair, pushing it back so she could see. "Nice night isn't it?" Salina joked.
"Indeed it is", CJ replied.
"Well, everyone, I just came from a meeting with Detective Madison", Rob said. "He'll have backup ready for us at tonight's concert just in case anything happens. After our more recent television debut on NBC, he said he's not taking any chances. His exact words were 'if you screw up, its my ass'."
"Its reassuring to know that he has complete and utter confidence in our abilities." Andrew sarcastically said with his foot propped up on a chair near Erin's desk while cracking his knuckles at the same time.
CJ continued with his speech, "Before you walked in, Salina, we were discussing the facts of this case. To make a long story short, we know what we got, but we don't know where it's going. Everyone is a suspect, but they all have concrete alibis.
Stroking his chin, Andrew said:
"Well, I don't like that McNeely. I trust him about as far as I can throw him. Give me 5 minutes in a room alone with him and he'll be begging to come clean."
"Yeah", Brian agreed. "Seems like he's the kind of guy who'd sell out his own mother for a few grand."
"But wait a minute", Brian interjected. "We can't honestly say that it's all McNeely's fault that Bea went down. Remember, Sheena said that she was trying to get Bea to kick her drug addiction."
"Right," Erin said, "but then you gotta ask yourselves how Bea got hooked in the beginning. Common sense says that she must have been coerced into consuming that stuff. It's the way of the street, supply and demand. Drug pushers offer an easy way out at a cheap price. At the point in her life where she was, she became easily susceptible and depressed enough to try it. Because think about it, no one in their right mind would willingly waste their life away, especially if they were on the verge of superstardom. Now, we know that Bea had been receiving a lot of money for her time spent on her rise to fame with Sheena, and that following her apparent death, the checks never stopped coming. The question to ask is, who would have the most to gain from Beatrix's death?"
"What are you getting at, Erin?" CJ said as a trepid expression grew on his face.
"CJ, I'm sorry to say it, but maybe Sheena is responsible for her death and possibly for introducing her to drugs. You spoke with her before, and you said she seemed more nerve-wracked over this more than anyone else. Her alibi isn't as tight as the other suspects," Erin said.
CJ stood firmly and frowned in denial, "I have a hard time believing that. She doesn't seem like the type and couldn't possibly..."
Interrupting CJ, Rob sighed listlessly and looked at both he and Erin "And Mrs. DeWitt's claims were true that they have been competitive rivals over the years. As much as I hate to say it, Sheena may be directly involved because she has everything to gain. "
"So we can assume that Sheena, consumed with selfishness, got her on drugs, which aggravated her mental condition to the point where she had a complete mental breakdown", Erin explained. "That got her out of the way professionally, but the supposed victim was still alive and something had to be done about that. She takes advantage of Bea's disappearances and finds her somewhere and takes her for a drive, most likely in her own car, leaving Bea's car in that ditch most likely. Whatever happens after that is probable guesswork."
"But it all leads to the same thing still", Brian said, having been quiet and listening most of the time. "Bea was killed, her body never found, and now she's back to reek vengeance on her murderer."
"You don't look too well CJ", Salina said, noticing that CJ had suddenly gone pale and had sat down.
"I...I just don't believe that she can be capable of such a thing", he said. "She doesn't seem like the type to do that."
"Like you said down in the basement", Rob said, "'who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men and women'."
CJ didn't say anything. He got up solemnly from his chair and said:
"I have to go call Madison and tell him what we've managed to come up with. You guys go ahead and start packing the Ecto-M. We're expected to be there as protection tonight."
Salina spoke out, "But, CJ..."
"We'll do our job the way it's meant to be done."