Purrfect Model, page 15
“What stories?” asked Odelia. When Laney didn’t immediately respond, she added, “It’s important, Laney. What stories?”
“I remember one story very distinctly. Dylon told me several times. Back when him and Jay were still in school, they used to pull pranks on the other students. You have to remember that Jay was very competitive. He always had to win, no matter what, and so once when they all had to enter an assignment for some important project, one kid came up with something brilliant. Something so amazing that he was a shoo-in for the top spot. So of course Jay couldn’t have that. And so he roped Dylon into destroying that kid’s assignment. Really tearing it to pieces so on the morning of the big reveal, when they pulled back the sheets from their assignments, the kid’s assignment turned out to be just a pile of paper cuttings. Poor kid completely broke down. He even accused Jay and Dylon, but all they got was a slap on the wrist. I told Dylon he was a bastard for pulling such a stunt, and he agreed. Said he felt sorry for the kid, but Jay had such a hold over him that he just couldn’t say no. And that’s always been the dynamic between those two. Jay came up with something, and Dylon had to do his dirty work.”
“Which is why you think Jay pulled a fast one on Dylon,” said Odelia, nodding.
“He must have. What else could have happened to that necklace?” She idly played with the strings of her hoodie. “I guess I can tell you now. It doesn’t matter now that Dylon is gone. We weren’t going to deliver that necklace to Jay. Instead we were simply going to keep it and leave town. Dylon figured Jay owed him, and he thought it would net us a nice chunk of change. So when Dylon ended up dead, I just figured Jay owed me for what happened to him, which is why I ended up sending him that blackmail letter.”
“Who was the kid whose assignment was destroyed?” asked Odelia.
“I don’t remember. Dylon must have mentioned his name, but honestly I can’t remember now.”
CHAPTER 35
“I don’t think Jay was a very nice person, Max,” said Dooley, once we were back in the car.
“No, I don’t think so either,” I agreed.
“Maybe we should tell Laia. That way she won’t be so sad.”
“I don’t know if it works like that,” I said. “Even though her fiancé wasn’t a nice man, that doesn’t mean she will be less sad that he’s dead, Dooley.”
“Oh,” said my friend, giving this some thought. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said after a few moments’ reflection. “If you were murdered and later on someone told me you were a bad cat, I’d still feel very sad that you were dead, Max.”
“That’s... very gratifying to hear, Dooley.”
“It must have been Bronson,” said Odelia.
“There’s a very simple way to find out,” said Chase, and took out his phone.
“Who are you calling?” asked Odelia, but the cop held up a finger, then spoke into his phone.
“Mr. Servais? Jake Servais? I hope I’m not interrupting anything, sir. My name is Chase Kingsley and I’m a detective with the Hampton Cove police department. I was hoping you might remember an incident that took place several years ago. One of your students, Jay Green, pulled a prank on another student, destroying his assignment. This young man took this prank very badly. Oh, you remember it well? Would you also remember the name of the student whose work was destroyed?” He listened for a moment, then gave Odelia a knowing look, and said, “Thank you very much, sir. You’ve been a tremendous help.” After he hung up, he said, “It was Bronson Shagreen, all right. His parents even filed a complaint with the school board, and Jay and Dylon were suspended for two weeks for the stunt.”
“I think we better have another chat with Bronson,” said Odelia, buckling up. “Sounds to me like he hasn’t been completely honest with us.”
“Poor man,” said Dooley as Chase put the car in gear. “He must have been very sad when his work was destroyed.”
“Yes, but was he so sad that he decided, many years later, to murder his tormentors?” I asked.
When we arrived at Town Hall, we found Bronson in the same place as before: still working hard on his new art installation, as commissioned by Charlene.
“Mr. Shagreen!” Chase called out. Not too loud, of course. We didn’t want the guy to topple down from his scaffolding and break his neck.
“Oh, you’re back,” said Bronson. He didn’t look overjoyed.
“We have some more questions for you, sir,” said Chase.
“More questions?” Bronson grumbled. “It’s very hard for an artist to focus on his art when people keep popping up like this,” he said, but he still came crawling down to assist us in our inquiries.
“We just talked to your old school principal, Mr. Servais,” said Chase.
Bronson didn’t even flinch. “Yes?”
“And he told us that in your fifth year your assignment was destroyed by two of your fellow students. Jay Green and Dylon Pipe.”
Bronson nodded. “That’s right. Not one of my best memories.”
“Perhaps you should have told us when we interviewed you earlier?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think it was relevant.”
“The two men who destroyed your work were both brutally murdered, Mr. Shagreen. And you didn’t think what they did to you was relevant?”
“Okay, all right. I should have told you. But you’ll understand that I didn’t exactly want to be reminded of such a traumatic event.”
“Oh, so it was traumatic for you, was it?”
“What do you think?” the young artist said with some vehemence. “I worked hard on that assignment. Weeks of late nights. I put everything—my heart and my soul into that assignment. Only to see it completely destroyed by those two idiots.”
“Your parents filed a complaint with the school board?”
“Yeah, they did. Not that it did a lot of good. They both got off with a two-week suspension, and that was it. Oh, they apologized, of course, but I could tell from their smirks that they were proud of what they did to me. And because I lost so much time, and my heart wasn’t really in it the second time, my replacement assignment got a low score, which caused Jay to get the top grade that year, which of course is what it was all about in the first place.”
“You still seem very bitter about the whole experience,” Odelia remarked.
“Yes, of course I’m still bitter. It was a horrible thing to do.”
“So when Jay and Dylon came in first and second place for this new art installation here, the decision by the town council must have rankled?”
He grimaced. “Yes, it did. And I’m not denying that. And of course Jay being Jay, he decided to rub my face in it, just for old time’s sake. Sent me a message after the decision was announced, wishing me all the best, and adding that he hoped I wasn’t a sore loser.”
“I think we better continue this conversation at the station,” said Chase.
Bronson gulped a little. “You’re not... arresting me, are you?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But I told you I was Skyping with my mom when Jay and Dylon were killed.”
“I talked to your mom, Bronson,” said Chase, not unkindly, I thought, since he probably understood the poor kid’s motive for killing his two former fellow students. “And she was honest with me. She told me she hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Said you were probably too busy with your art, as usual.”
“But...”
“Did you really think we wouldn’t check your alibi, Bronson?”
“Or did you think your mom would lie for you?” asked Odelia.
“No, but...” The kid was sweating profusely again, clearly deeply impressed by his impending arrest. “Look, I do have an alibi, but I promised not to tell anyone.”
“Of course you did,” said Chase, clearly not believing a word Bronson was saying. “Okay, let’s go,” he said, and took out a pair of shiny handcuffs.
I think Bronson panicked a little, for he suddenly called out, “Madam Mayor! Madam Mayor!”
Madam Mayor, who’d been talking to a council member, approached us, looking distinctly unhappy when she caught sight of Chase’s handcuffs. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Bronson here is refusing to tell us where he was on the nights Jay Green and Dylon Pipe were killed,” Chase explained.
“And he has a very strong motive for murdering both men,” Odelia added for good measure.
“Look, he can’t have killed Jay Green,” said Charlene. “For the simple reason that he was with me last night.”
A stunned silence followed these words, and I think we were all surprised by this development.
“Bronson was... with you?” asked Odelia.
“Poor Uncle Alec,” said Dooley, voicing what I think we were all thinking. “His girlfriend is cheating on him with a promising young artist.”
“I can see the attraction,” I said, seeing Bronson in an entirely different light now. “Young and fit and all of that.”
“If you like that sort of thing,” said Dooley, a touch of disapproval in his voice.
“Yeah, exactly. If you like that sort of thing.” And clearly Charlene liked it a lot, for she now stood smiling at Bronson, earning herself a frown from both Chase and Odelia. Odelia because she presumably didn’t appreciate her uncle being thrown over like this, and Chase a good friend and superior officer.
When Charlene caught the expressions on their faces, she laughed. “Oh, no, it’s not what you think! Bronson was modeling for us.”
“Modeling?” asked Chase.
“Yeah, when Dylon died, we lost our model, and even though I like Tex a lot, he’s not exactly the perfect model for these art classes we’ve all been taking. And so we had to find a solution, if we wanted to keep on drawing and painting. And it was actually Marge who came up with the idea. Since she didn’t want to hurt her husband’s feelings, she decided to organize some extra lessons. So now we have our official class, on Monday night, and a second class on Tuesday night at my place. Just a few people, mind you. Me, Marge, Vesta, Scarlett… And Bronson here, who’s proven to be an excellent model and quite an inspiration for us all.”
Bronson produced a faint smile. “Thanks,” he murmured shyly.
“Oh, no, you’ve done a great job, Bronson,” said Charlene, patting the young artist on the back. She then beamed at Chase. “So you see, Bronson couldn’t possibly have killed Jay Green, since he was at my place last night, and there are several witnesses who can provide him with an alibi.”
“Oh, dear,” said Odelia.
“Now I do hope I can count on your discretion?” asked Charlene fervently. “Your dad... He’s a wonderful person, but when it comes to modeling, he—”
“Sucks,” said Odelia. “I get it.”
“All we wanted was to prevent your dad from showing up naked again, and make an absolute fool of himself. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, of course,” said Odelia, though she didn’t look so understanding. I guess she didn’t fully approve of her mom and grandma going behind her back like this.
“So... is Bronson our guy or not?” asked Dooley, who had a hard time following what was going on.
“No, he was privately modeling for Charlene, Marge, Gran, Scarlett and some of their friends,” I explained.
“Modeling? What was he modeling?”
“Well... himself, I guess.”
Dooley frowned at me. “I don’t understand, Max. Why would he be modeling himself to all of these women in private?”
“It’s what they do, they draw... men... in the nude.”
“But why?”
“Honestly? I have absolutely no idea,” I said. “For some reason they like drawing men in the nude.”
“Must be something in the water,” said Dooley, as he eyed the coffee cup Charlene was clutching with distinct suspicion.
CHAPTER 36
We were back in the car, with Chase prey to understandable disappointment.
“I really thought we had our guy,” he said.
“Do you think I should tell Dad?” asked Odelia, who had other problems to deal with. “I mean, he has a right to know, don’t you think?”
“And Uncle Alec,” Dooley added. “He probably doesn’t know his girlfriend spends her evenings staring at naked men.”
“Bronson still doesn’t have an alibi for Dylon Pipe’s murder,” said Chase, “but I think we can agree that Dylon and Jay were killed by the same person, so that means Bronson is off the hook. And if he didn’t do it, maybe we should take a closer look at Tyrone. It’s not impossible that Jay was a client of his, and in spite of his whole spiel about not wanting to hurt the people who owe him money, I’m sure he wouldn’t be above putting the squeeze on them. So maybe they simply squeezed too hard and Jay ended up dead? And the same thing goes for Dylon.”
“I’ll talk to Mom. If anyone tells Dad it should be her,” said Odelia.
“What are you talking about, babe?” asked Chase, who only now seemed to realize he was holding a monologue.
“This whole modeling business! If they don’t want Dad to be their model, they should simply tell him, and not sneak behind his back like that.”
“Yeah, you’re absolutely right,” said Chase. He put the car in gear, and moments later we happened to be cruising past Tyrone’s Place. The crime boss was seated outside, enjoying a nice meal, along with several of what I assumed were his lieutenants. And as we slowly drove past, Mr. Friday had the audacity to give Chase a cheerful wave.
“The nerve of the guy!” said Chase, as he stepped on the accelerator and roared away. “Now I know it was him!”
“Yeah, but how are we going to prove it?” said Odelia.
And that’s the thing, of course. When ordinary citizens commit murder, they often make a mistake, because they’re amateurs, and haven’t been trained for that sort of thing. But when a professional like Tyrone decides to teach a client a lesson, he doesn’t make mistakes, or at least the people who work for him don’t, since they’re more often than not trained killers, and don’t take any chances.
In other words: the investigation was more or less stymied at this point.
By the time we arrived home, Odelia had made up her mind that she was going to tell her dad that his modeling career wasn’t going to pan out, with his own wife and mother-in-law deserting him for a younger model.
But when we entered the house, we found Gran and Scarlett, busily baking pancakes, with Grace the very excited recipient.
Unfortunately Grace was also a co-chef, and had been put in charge of dispensing flour to the two ladies. The upshot was that the floor was dusted in a thin layer of white, and it now looked as if it had been snowing in the kitchen.
“Gran, what are you doing!” Odelia said under her breath.
“Making pancakes, or what does it look like?” said Gran.
“Is it true that you and Mom and Charlene have been organizing a secret art class?” she asked now, the deceit obviously still rankling.
“And me,” said Scarlett. “I was also there.”
“I haven’t forgotten about you,” said Odelia, giving her grandmother’s friend a frosty look.
“Honey, you have to understand we did it all for your dad,” said Gran. “We didn’t want to hurt his feelings by making him think we didn’t like his modeling.”
“But we don’t like his modeling,” said Scarlett.
“Yeah, I don’t know what it is about your dad, but he simply doesn’t inspire us to create great art, you know.”
“I think it’s his face,” said Scarlett. “When I look at your dad I see my doctor. Probably because he is my doctor. And he reminds me of the time I had my appendix removed. I mean, who wants to think about their appendix when they’re trying to create art?”
“And who wants to see their son-in-law?” Gran chimed in.
“And Bronson Shagreen inspires you, does he?” asked Odelia.
“Yes, he does, actually,” said Scarlett. “Bronson is a work of art.”
“The kid looks like a sculpture,” said Gran, a blissful look appearing on her face. “He is a sculpture. A regular Adonis.”
“I want you to come clean and tell Dad,” said Odelia.
“But, honey!” Scarlett cried.
“No, it’s not fair, the four of you sneaking behind his back like this.”
“But he’s going to ruin everything!” said Gran.
Scarlett nodded emphatically. “Yeah, this whole thing started when Tex found out that Marge was going to her art class, and that Dylon was modeling for us.”
“It’s all Ida’s fault,” said Gran. “If that woman hadn’t blabbed, none of this would have happened. Tex would have been blissfully ignorant, and we would have happily been drawing away to our heart’s content.”
“Look, if you don’t tell Dad, I will,” said Odelia, really putting her foot down on this one.
“Oh, all right, but if anyone tells him, it should be Marge,” said Gran. “She is, after all, his wife.”
“Fine,” said Odelia.
“Fine,” said Gran with some vehemence. Clearly she wasn’t at all happy with this state of affairs and Odelia meddling with her career as an artist. Then she gave her granddaughter a keen look. “I saw that you and Chase were talking to Charlene? Did she say anything about my contribution?”
“Or mine?” said Scarlett anxiously.
“No, she did not,” said Odelia, who wasn’t about to divulge classified information to these two ladies. Also, she probably had no idea who Charlene would pick.
“I wonder if they know that they both entered the exact same project,” said Dooley. “And not even an actual painting but a reproduction.”
“And that a lot of others probably did the same,” I said.
And as Odelia continued to clear things with her nearest and dearest, Grace had fun ‘helping’ her great-grandmother by lightly sprinkling more flour on the floor.
And then of course the inevitable happened: the little tyke caught sight of me and Dooley, and since she felt we shouldn’t be exempt from a good dusting with this fairy dust she was happily sprinkling about, she came waddling up to us, and threw a handful of the stuff on me!
