A/N: Here we go! Chapter 3! Written by Carlie (aka Lilyjnr!)
Enjoy and review! Please. LOL. Witha cherry on top, even! We're generous!
Chapter 3: The Gang's All Here
Present Day
"Wow." Lily said with a sigh.
They all looked at Max. Nigel and Jordan being the only ones who knew the story.
Jordan perked up again, breaking the silence that had fallen on the bar. "Wow that was quick. So how to do enjoy being dead now Dad?" She teased.
"Well he spoke to me, I liked his persona."
Jordan nodded at her father. "Uh huh."
Nigel moved in to change the subject. "Poor Stanley."
"You're just happy you're not the suspect!….yet." Bug hit back teasing Nigel.
Garret, always the voice of responsibility tried to bring the group back on track. "Perhaps we should get back to the case."
Jordan nodded agreeingly.
He continued. "So Bert Watson is dead. Who killed him and how?" The gang looked stumped.
Max grinned and pulling out the case report. "Detective this is your big entrance."
Woody took the folder and grinned like a 12 year old.
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-Back in 1927
Stanley and Lola sat at a booth in the, now empty club. She is wearing a low cut black dress, not what would typically be called daywear for a lady. Violet was sitting at a stool by the bar.
A man in a smart suit, coat and hat walked through the door from the alleyway. Followed by some other policemen. He introduces himself, though not looking either of them directly in the eyes. "Detective Ricky Donovan. Boston Police Department." After a pause, Donovan continued. "Are you the one who found him?" The detective asked to Stanley, as he opened his notepad. Lola squeezed Stanley's hand.
"Yes." Stanley answered the detective with a sigh.
"You are his son correct?"
"I am." Replied Stanley. Lola and Violet glanced at each other, Violet not looking Lola directly in the eye. Lola noted this, but shrugged it off as she turned her attention back to Stanley and the Detective.
The detective then turned to Lola and Violet. "And who are you two?" He asked rather directly.
They did not get the chance to answer, as at that moment another man walked into the room. Lola's eyes widened when she saw him. He greeted Donovan with a scowl. "Detective."
"Dr Mitchell." The Detective answered back, also with a scowl.
Mitchell spotted Lola. "Lola." He greeted her, scowling again.
"Hey there Fred." She said coldly.
Stanley looked up. He knew Dr Mitchell. Of his history with Lola and her father. His heart sank. This was not a good sign.
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They were suddenly pulled back into the present.
"Wait who's Fred Mitchell?"
5 of the other eight of them groaned. (Those that did not were Max, Lily and of course Seely himself.)
Max was kind enough to explain things to the blonde detective. "Mitchell was the coroner on the case."
Bug looked confused. "What's he got to do with Lola?"
Jordan picks up the diary, turning to an earlier page. "Lola's father was a medical examiner…he worked with Mitchell. Apparently Mitchell held a grudge for Lola's father getting a promotion over him...he was not a fan…"
Max put up a hand to stop her from going on. "Let's not give away too much just yet, and uh, get back to the story, shall we."
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Back Alleyway, behind the Midnight Monkey. –Crime scene.
Detective Ricky Donovan was perusing the area. Making note of little things that could be used as evidence, or at least point them in the right direction. "Photograph that!" The detective instructed an officer, pointing to what looked to be a set of footprints in the dirt next to the trash cans near the doorway. The officer rushed over and took care of it. Ricky moved on. He was standing next to the body, about to question the coroner Dr Mitchell, on his primary opinions and theories about Bert Watson's death, when a young gung-ho reporter, dressed in a long coat and a fedora, called out to the detective.
"Detective Donovan!" He pushed his way past a crime scene barrier. "Uh Detective!"
Ricky sighed deeply. He knew this man, this 'kid'. He was a reporter for the Boston Herald. "A good kid" he thought to himself. "Good, but a little overzealous at times." The detective put his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, and greeted the reporter. "Jake."
"So what you got Ricky?" Jake asked with a little too much enthusiasm.
Donovan coughed pointedly.
"Uh. Detective Donovan…" The reporter quickly corrected himself. "So what's the go?" Jake looked past Donovan to crime scene, specifically at the body lying on the ground.
"Probable Homicide." The detective shrugged his shoulders, and watched with almost a scowl as Jake wrote this down.
Jake nodded in the direction of the body. "He gotta name?"
Ricky sighed. "Bert Watson. Bar owner. 50."
Once again Jake wrote this down. He then gestured to the body again and then he and Donovan both walked over to Dr Mitchell.
The Detective spoke first. "So what do you think Fred?"
"Well there's no bullet wound, he wasn't shot, or strangled by the looks of things." Dr Mitchell pointed to Bert's neck, where there were no marks.
"So what do you imagine killed him then?" The reporter blurted out, before Donovan had a chance to even open his mouth.
Dr Mitchell glanced at the detective. Donovan nodded for him to continue. "Doctor."
"My guess Gentlemen is that he was poisoned."
"Poisoned!" The reporters yell made Ricky jump.
"Well of course I'd need to do a proper autopsy at the morgue…but that is what I presume happened." Dr Mitchell adjusted his glasses.
"Any clues that may lead us to the murderer yet Dr Mitchell?" The detective asked with a hint of impatience in his voice.
"Nothing major yet. Though we did find a finger print, and a few dark hairs on the victim's collar, which we will analyse." Dr Mitchell squinted his eyes and almost smiled at this.
"Let me know if you find something more Doc." And Donovan left. The reporter disappearing as well.
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Present Day
Jordan and Lily sit on the stage. Woody and Seely are sitting on the edge, though metres apart. Garret and Max were standing. And Bug and Nigel were sitting on the floor next to the stage, reading over their profiles - Both bored with the latest scene.
"Gee they don't have much to go on! I'm definitely glad to be a cop in this day and age!" Woody exclaimed with a sigh. He glanced at Seely, who seemed to share the same opinion.
"So what's next?" Lily asked with curiosity.
Jordan flipped through the book, and looked at Woody. "Stanley's interrogation."
Nigel suddenly popped his head up and grinned, pleased to have something to do again. His expression caused Lily and Jordan to crack up laughing.
"Take us away Woodrow." Max directed. And so he did.
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1927 – Interrogation room.
Stanley was sitting at the table. Donovan was circling.
"The Coroner said your father was most likely murdered." Said the detective rather casually.
"I know." Stanley replied, not moving his stare from the top of the table.
"So do you know someone who might have wanted to kill your father?" The Detective continued on, still circling.
"No!" Stanley practically yelled, looking the detective in the eyes.
"Did your father have any enemies?"
"Not that I know of…but he was in competition with a lot of other bars and clubs…But most people loved the old guy."
The detective stoped circling. "What about the employees of the Midnight Monkey?"
"What employees?" Stanley said with a laugh. "There's just me, the waiter Jim, a couple of kitchen staff, the other 3 band members, and then Lola and Violet!"
"Grant and Meridian?" The detective asked, glancing at his note pad again.
"Yes." Stanley sighed.
"The show girls."
"They're singers, dancers. None of that funny stuff." Stanley growled defensively.
The detective nodded and continued on. "Do you think it's possible that either one of them could have murdered your father?'
"No. Of course not!" Stanley was ready to stand up and walk out at this moment.
"But they were both in the club at the time of the murder. Correct?" Donovan was now standing at Stanley's right. He leant on the table.
"Yes. They were on a dinner break." Stanley sighed once more.
"Can you think of any reason for either of them to want to murder your father?" Donovan stood up straight again.
"No." Stanley replied flatly.
"Did you kill your father?" Donovan did not blink as he starred Stanley straight in the eyes.
"NO!" Stanley barked.
Donovan eased up, and nodded. "Okay."
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Not much later, outside another interrogation room, Lola and Violet sat waiting to be interviewed. Ink on their fingers from having their fingerprints taken. Lola was sitting still, her eyes were focused on a painting on the wall opposite. Violet on the other hand kept fidgeting, not being able to sit comfortably in her chair.
"Are you alright?" Lola asked her friend.
"Nothing. I'm fine." Violet said, forcing a smile.
At that moment a detective came out, asking for Lola to come inside. Lola glanced at Violet, and stood up and followed the detective. Once inside the room she sat in the seat the detective directed her to. Detective Donovan was also in the room.
The other detective spoke first. "I'm Detective O'Daley. I believe you've met Detective Donovan."
"Yes. I have." Lola responded, glancing in Donovan's direction.
"So you were employed by Bert Watson correct?" O'Daley asked.
"Correct."
Donovan finally spoke. "And what is it you do?" He asked.
"I'm a singer, a dancer. Violet and I perform an act together." She said the last part with smidge of bitterness.
"Uh huh. And how long have you worked for Mr Watson?" Donovan continued.
Lola had to think this over for a minute, it seemed like ages. "Uh about 3 years now. I think."
O'Daley took the next question. –Though the two detectives were not really working together on this. O'Daley was young, new to homicide, and eager to please the big wigs. Donovan on the other hand had been in homicide for years now, and on the force way longer than that. Ricky Donovan was also much less open minded and forgiving than his fellow detective. The effects of a tough life.
"And how did you get the job?"
"I've known Stanley since we were small children. We're good friends." Lola answered, still pretty much keeping it all together.
O'Daley looked at his notepad. "Stanley…Watson? The son?"
"Yes!" Lola started getting somewhat agitated by the detective's need for clarification.
Donovan coughed. "Okay. O'Daley, moving on." He turned back to Lola. "So Miss Grant, what were you doing at the time of Mr Watson's murder?"
"I was eating dinner. With Violet and Stanley." She answered plainly.
Donovan looked at some papers. "Actually the coroner puts the time of death at about half an hour to an hour before he was found."
O'Daley looked her in the eye.
Lola sighed. She suddenly realised that she had no real alibi before dinner, for she was alone at the time. "I was in the dressing rooms, fixing one of my costumes that needed some repair before the second show."
"Righto. And was anyone else around at the time?" Donovan went on.
"You mean was did anyone see me doing that? No, I don't believe so." She sighed again, losing her relaxed expression to a more pursed and hardened one.
"And where were the other employees at this time?" O'Daley asked promptly.
"Well Stanley was at the bar, working….Jim was serving as usual. And Violet was probably off having a drink or something."
Donovan looked at Lola. "So you have no idea where Violet was at the time?"
Lola gritted her teeth. "No I do not." She folded her hands in her lap.
"And how well do you know Miss Meridian?" Donovan enquired.
"I've known her almost as long as Stanley."
O'Daley spoke again. "What about the other staff?"
Lola shrugged. "Well I don't really have much to do with them. Jim the waiter is pretty new, I only met him yesterday."
The two detectives stood up and ceased the questions. Ricky put his hands in his pockets.
"Can I leave now?" Lola asked, she'd had quite enough of all this. She wanted to check up on Stanley and see how he was doing.
Donovan nodded. As she was getting up he directed another question her way. "Just one last question Miss Grant."
She turned her head looking at him over her right shoulder. "Yes."
Donovan walked over to her. "Did you kill your boss?" He asked firmly.
Lola managed, what resembled a small smile. "No. I did not." And she turned and walked out.
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The Morgue –
"Dr Mitchell." Detective Donovan walked into the morgue. "I hear you've found something!"
"Yes I have indeed detective!" The coroner had almost an evil smile on his face as he thought of what he had found.
He was just about to continue when he was silenced by a rather loud shout coming from the corridor.
"Wait!"
The detective and the coroner looked around. In ran Jake.
"Why Jacob Carmichael. How nice to see you." The detective said with a sarcastic undertone. "What are you doing here Jake?" The detective said much more pointedly.
"Hey there Detective. Doc!" The reporter caught his breath.
"Jake!" Ricky got impatient.
"Oh. Uh. I'm here for the scoop!" The reporter answered eagerly.
Dr Mitchell carried on, pretty much ignoring the reporter's interruption. "Those footprints we found at the crime scene, near the trash cans, belong to a female. A size 6 most likely." The coroner then continues to spiel on about the footprints and how they worked it all out.
Jake writes all this down, as the detective begins to zone it out and starts daydreaming.
The coroner stops and Ricky takes this moment to jump in and ask another question, before Dr Mitchell gets going again. "Okay, anything on that finger print?"
"Not a lot Detective." Dr Mitchell sighs. "It's probably too unclear to tell for sure, but it does resemble the ladies of the club."
"You mean the singers?" Jake asks, still writing this all down.
"Yes." The coroner replies straight up.
The detective looks at his watch, times a wasting. "Okay Doc, what about cause of death. Were your preliminary suspicions correct?" Ricky asks.
"Absolutely Detective!" Dr Mitchell took off his glasses and wiped them clean. "As I suspected, Bert Watson was poisoned. Probably not by a general household kind either, it was intended for this precise purpose I'd say!"
"Interesting."
The detective was almost ready to bop the reporter on the head at this point.
"What about those hairs? Any clue as to who they belong to?" The detective was getting frustrated with this case. It was too wide. And he felt something was not quite right.
"The dark hairs, well the only ones with dark hair of your suspects is Lola Grant, correct!" Dr Mitchell stated.
Donovan sighed. He knew that it would point to her. "Thanks Doc."
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The Present Day –
They are all sitting around a table, with papers and photos with evidence and facts about the case spread all over.
"Okay so they were all interviewed…" Woody began.
The conversation continued around the table. "And Mitchell was investigating the murder." Jordan continued.
"As was Detective Donovan…." Lily added.
Nigel sighed. "So why'd they focus solely on Lola?"
Bug picked up a piece of paper and read from it. "Dr Mitchell's evidence seemed to point to Lola. And they didn't seem interested in "
Seely looked from side to side, but had nothing to add.
Max continued. "Both Lola and Violet's alibi's were sketchy and unverifiable."
"So why did all the heat go to Lola?" Garret asked the room.
"What was so peachy about Violet?" Bug looked a little confused.
Lily smirked at Bug's use of the word 'peachy'.
"I don't get it!" He continued on.
Lily looked over her profile. "Apparently Violet was from the good side of the tracks. She had high class education, especially for a woman. Her parents were both known in the community…"
Jordan picked up the diary and continued. "According to Lola, Violet was the victim of high society life. Her parents paid her very little attention, and wanted her to be a proper little lady. She rebelled. She wanted to be a singer." Jordan put the diary down. "I dunno. If you ask me that gives her somewhat of a motive! Maybe she killed Bert because of her parental issues." She shrugged.
"Then why didn't they think of this back then?" Bug asked.
"Perhaps for that exact reason." Max suggested. "Because of her higher standing in society."
Seely looked over the pages in front of him. "I thought her parents disowned her!"
"Yeah but compared to Lola…Violet was as good as gold!" Jordan argued.
"I think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves here." Garret interrupted. "Shouldn't we see where this all goes!"
"You mean apart from Lola's death!" Nigel quipped.
Bug hid a laugh, as Garret glared at Nigel.
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1927 – The Midnight Monkey main bar.
The Midnight Monkey was closed during the day, due to Bert's murder. But Stanley, who had now inherited the bar, wanted to keep it open for the dinner and evening hours.
It was mid-late afternoon and Lola was on stage rehearsing her act, sans Violet, who had mysteriously disappeared for the day. She was just nearing the end of a song, when Detective Ricky Donovan walked in. He stood there, watching her, enthralled by her voice.
"She has a beautiful voice" Ricky thought to himself.
She noticed the look in his eye, something honest, yet broken. A feeling she felt herself. Donovan watched her as she finished her song.
Lola stepped down off the stage. "Hello again Detective."
"Miss Grant." He said, with a small little nod of his head.
She passed him and walked over to the bar, where she picked up a glass, gin was her drink of choice. She sat on one of the bar stools, and turned her head back to face the detective. "What brings you here Detective? Come to question me, I suppose." She took another sip from her glass.
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They were suddenly brought back into the present.
"I think I've seen this in a movie!..."
Jordan laughs. "Oh Woody." She whispers under her breath, and sighs again.
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And back to last scene – continuing on where it left off in 1927.
"What brings you here Detective? Come to question me, I suppose." She took another sip from her glass.
Ricky held up a newspaper. The headline read "Local Lounge Singer Suspected For Boss' Murder. By Jacob Carmichael"
"You know Mitchell, the coroner thinks you had something to do with it, with Bert Watson's murder." The detective began, as he walked towards the bar.
Lola sighed. "Old Fred's going to hold it against us forever." She said under her breath. "Of course he would, a girl like me…my background. Sure why not." She took a deep breath, and directed her attention to the detective. "And what do you think?"
"I am not quite as sure." The detective admitted, looking Lola in straight in the eye…which he now wished he hadn't, for he saw something familiar in her eyes. There was something about this gal that just went through him. He felt her stare go right through the wall he had put up, and right through his bitterness and hostility.
She pointed to the paper Ricky had put on the bar. "Your buddies down at the precinct don't seem to share the same position as you." Lola took a cigarette out of a holder and put it to her lips. The detective leaned forward and lit it for her. "Thank you."
"So care to tell me why Dr Mitchell has such a problem with you?" The Detective sincerely inquired.
"It's a long and uninteresting story Detective." She answered dully. "You don't want to hear all the sordid details of my past." She looked him in the eye. "Trust me."
He smiled at her, not in a happy way, but more in an understanding way. "So is there anyone you can think of that may have wanted to kill your boss?" The detective asked with kindness.
"Look I honestly don't know. Apart from the occasional drunk, Bert had no quibbles with people." Lola took another drag from her cigarette.
"Well watch your back doll, I don't know how far Mitchell and the other officers will go with his accusations. Especially if Mitchell has it out for you as much as you say." He tips his hat, nods and walks out.
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Present Day
"Wait wait wait! What happened with the investigation. How'd we suddenly get to a Lola and Ricky thing!" Woody suddenly burst out.
Everyone looked at the detective.
Jordan and Nigel shared a look. It was starting to frustrate them, the fact that they were the only ones who knew this story. "Because it's a huge part of the case!" She explained.
"How!" Woody questioned again.
Jordan sighed. "Just wait my dear Woodrow." She laughed. "Just you wait."