45ebf3c490593574dd454e5dfd5a5758

“Oh, she hit him, of course. Knocked him to the floor. Poor man hit his head and according to Hazel hasn’t been the same since.”

“Hazel…”

“Hazel Larobski. Amadeo’s wife. She blamed Neda. Accused her of staging an attack on her husband. When everyone could see that it was simply an unfortunate accident.”

12

After we left Father Reilly’s office, Odelia and Chase decided to grab a coffee and discuss the case, while Dooley and I decided to do the same. Not grab a coffee, I mean, but take a moment to discuss the case. And since Odelia and Chase were planning to have their coffee at the Caf? Baron which doesn’t have a street caf?, and we didn’t feel like being cooped up inside again, we wandered on and enjoyed some fresh air. Our wanderings took us in the direction of the Star hotel, where we came upon Gran and her friend Scarlett, who were sipping their drinks, seated in the outside dining area.

Gran spotted us, and beckoned us over to join them.

“What’s all this I’m hearing about Neda Hoeppner being murdered?” she asked the moment we’d hopped up on two chairs and had made ourselves comfortable.

“She was murdered by Bonnie and Clyde,” Dooley said, who was sticking to his original theory.

“Bonnie and Clyde?” asked Gran with a frown.

“You remember. From Friday’s episode of General Hospital. Nurse Bauer and Doctor Adolf murdered Bonnie Bauer’s competitor for the position of head nurse.”

“I remember,” said Gran. “But why would Nurse Bauer murder Neda?”

“Not Nurse Bauer,” said Dooley with a laugh. “Yoko Bricknell and her boss Bill Bouillabaisse. It’s the same thing, Gran, only instead of head nurse, Yoko wanted to become choir director, and since Neda was standing in her way, she killed her.”

“Huh,” said Gran, and quickly translated Dooley’s frankly outrageous theory for her friend, who unfortunately can’t speak our language. Though recently Scarlett has been correctly interpreting some of the things we say. My guess is that she’s so in tune with Gran that a few words come to her from time to time. The miracle of intuition, you know.

“I don’t think Yoko Bricknell is capable of a thing like that,” said Scarlett, wasting no time refuting Dooley’s theory.

“You know that girl?” asked her friend.

“Oh, sure. I used to work at Bill’s restaurant from time to time, and Yoko was my colleague. That girl is so talented. She’s an artist,” she explained.

“An artist?” asked Dooley, who seemed surprised that Yoko wasn’t a nurse in her spare time.

“She paints,” Scarlett explained. “And she’s pretty good, too. And none of that modern stuff either. She paints portraits, and does a very nice job. She’s painted my portrait. It’s hanging in my living room. Above the mantel.”

“Yoko painted that?” asked Gran.

“She’s good, isn’t she?”

“Sheis good,” Gran admitted. “So maybe I should ask her to paint my portrait. I don’t think anyone has ever painted me before. And then I could give it to Tex as a present. He can hang it in his bedroom. I’m sure he’d like that.”

Not even in my wildest dreams could I imagine Tex being excited about having a portrait of his mother-in-law in his bedroom, but then who am I to speak for Odelia’s father?

“So if Yoko didn’t do it, who did?” asked Gran. She turned to me. “Any other suspects?”

“Well, there’s Janette Bittiner,” I told her. “She was holding a grudge against Neda, for stealing a job she felt was owed her. And there’s also Raban Pacoccha, Neda’s gardener, who, at least according to Neda’s secretary, is a drug addict, and always in need of some ready cash to fund his unhealthy and expensive habit. And we just heard from Father Reilly that a woman named Hazel Larobski was upset with Neda for hitting her husband Amadeo over the head with her conductor’s baton and causing permanent damage.”

“Permanent damage, my ass,” Gran scoffed. “Amadeo has been a fruit loop for as long as I’ve known him. That blow to the head he received from Neda didn’t do any damage.”

“Oh, I remember that,” said Scarlett, nodding. “Hazel made a big fuss about that, didn’t she?”

“A big fuss about nothing.” Gran wagged her finger. “You know what we should do?”

“No, what?” asked her friend, as she brought her cappuccino to her bright-red lips and took a dainty sip. As usual, Scarlett was dressed to impress, in roll-up denim shorts and a tank top, covered with a nice blazer, while her friend wore her usual tracksuit.

“We should stake out Neda’s place tonight.”

“But… what’s the point of staking out a place when the owner is dead?”

“A killer always returns to the scene of the crime, Scarlett,” said Gran, stabbing a sharp bony finger in her friend’s shoulder. “It’s a law of nature. So if we stake out that place tonight, we will catch Neda’s killer, it’s as simple as ABC.”

“You really think so?” said Scarlett, who didn’t look entirely convinced.

“Sure! We can’t miss. Her killer will return, and we’ll be there waiting.”

“But why would her killer return?”

“How should I know? I’m not a killer,” said Gran with the kind of spurious logic she likes to employ.