Yes, she said.
Arnie was the best, Tyler said passionately. An amazing man and an amazing friend.
I believe you, she said then paused, remembering what she had read. He had died of a drug overdose. So sad, and such a waste of a good man.
What was even more tragic was that so many soldiers came home only to die by their own hands, their minds haunted by the demons of war.
He died of an overdose, didnt he? she asked.
Damn you, it wasnt suicide! Tyler said.
I never said anything about suicide.
And it wasnt an accident. He was murdered. You have to believe me.
Im more than willing to listen to
Tyler shook his head emphatically. You have to help me. You have to prove that he was murdered. I know you can do it. And you will. You and Quinn will.
Were not infallible.
I know you can find the truth. You have to. Because if you dont, whoever is doing this will kill again. I know it.
Tyler, you cant know that.
I do know it. And he just might kill me.
Chapter 2
MRS. LIANA RUBY wasnt as frail as one might have thought.
They didnt have to knock on her door; an officer had been keeping watch over her while the police worked in the other side of the duplex. She had been lying on the sofa, but she got up when they came in. She was a little thing, but she quickly offered them tea or coffee, and then, when they declined, she told them, Well, you may be on duty, but Im not. Excuse me while I get myself a big cup of teawith a bigger shot of whiskey.
Quinn and Larue sat in her living room and waited. When she rejoined them, she was shaking her head with disbelief. Sad, sad, sad. Poor man. He may have had his vices, but then, he was a musician. And as sad as it is, its true sometimes that the more tormented the musician, the more powerful the song. Why anyone would hurt such a polite fellow, I dont know. Now, that just sounded ridiculous, I know. But he was courteous and kind, with a friendly word for everyone. Kids threw a football into his car and dented it, and he just threw it back. I asked him if he didnt want to call the police or file an insurance claim, and he shrugged and told me they were just having a good time. Said the dent gave his car character!
Did you see or hear anything at all unusual earlier? Larue asked her.
Son, I was sound asleepwithout my hearing aid. If little green men had descended from Mars and blown up the Superdome, I wouldnt have heard it, she said.
We believe he was killed around 5:00 a.m., Mrs. Ruby, Quinn said. Im not surprised you were sleeping, and certainly not surprised you didnt hear anything. Did you notice that you didnt see him later in the day?
Good heavens, he works nights. I never saw the man until well past noon, she said.
What about anyonehis friends and acquaintances, not to mention strangersyou might have seen visiting him? Quinn asked.
Mr. Quinn, you may think Im generalizing, even stereotyping, but musicians only come in strange, Mrs. Ruby said. And so do some ex-athletes.
That drew a smirk from Larue as he looked at Quinn.
Quinn looked back at Mrs. Ruby. You know me?
I followed your football career years ago, young man. She wagged a finger at him. And I witnessed your downfall, saw you join the dregs of humanity, and still, like most of this city, when you died on that operating table and came back to life, I said a hallelujah. Yes, I know you. And I know you were a cop and became a private eye, and that youve been working weird cases with this one here she paused and nodded toward Jake and old Angus Caffertys daughter. So lets establish this right away. You work the strangeand musicians are strange.
Can you describe any of the friends hanging around in richer detail than just strange? Quinn asked her, grinning.
Sure. Im eighty-eight. Not much else to do. Traveling too far around the city tires me out, so I sit on the porch a lot. Lord, I do love watching the life around me. And lots of people come and go. A tall, beautiful black man came a lot. When hes here, the house is arocking. I mean, for real. The man is a drummer. Then theres a womanlets see, early forties, pleasant, hardly strange at all, for a musician. Brown hair, brown eyes. She leaned toward Quinn. Shes got the hots for the tall black man. Theres a pudgy fellow, about five foot nine. You got pictures? You show em to me. You want to get a sketch artist out here? I can have a go. But I dont think youre going to find his killer among them. I got a glance at what they did to himno friend of the man did anything like that.
The first you knew about this in any way was when Lacey Cavanaugh came to you? Larue asked.
Mrs. Ruby winced. That poor girl. When we looked in that window, we couldnt see clear. But he wasnt moving, and I knew...well, I wasnt giving anybody a key until the cops came. Id give a lot to help you more. Whoever did this came and went. Guess he was with Larry for a while, she said quietly, her face grim.
Mrs. Ruby, thank you for your help. If you think of anything else, anything at all, that could be helpful, youll call us? Quinn asked. Both he and Larue handed her their cards.
She studied the business cards and then looked at the two men. How long do you think he was in there? she asked. An hour? Two hours?
One, Quinn said. Larue nodded his agreement.
Still, six in the morningsomeone should have seen the killer leave, she said. I do watch television, you know. I am aware of how things go down.
Im sure you are, Jake told her. And were doing a canvass of the neighborhood. I have officers going door-to-door.
We watch television, too, Quinn said gravely.
She gave him a swat on the knee. Behave, young man. Ill be here, ready to look at pictures, describe people, whatever you need, she told them.
Is there anywhere else you can go? Larue asked her. Crime scene techs will be coming and going, and there will be officers on hand for a while, but if you feel insecure...
Im not insecure. At my age? Mrs. Ruby demanded.
Still, be careful when you open the door, Jake warned her.
Detective Larue, she said. I wont be opening my door without seeing who is outside, I promise you. And if I do open the door, Ill have my Glock in hand and a truckload of silver hollow-point bullets that will take care of any opponent, human or...otherwise. And dont you worry. I have a permit for it, and I know how to use it.
Just dont go shooting the postman, Jake warned.
Want to visit a shooting range with me? she demanded sharply. I wont go shooting any uppity cops, either, I promise. Though it may be tempting.
Laughing, Jake apologized as they rose.
They left the house and walked down to the street together, ready to head to the hospital in their separate cars.
I think the old bird likes you best, Larue told Quinn.
You acted as if she were senile. Telling her not to shoot the mailman.
You acted as if she were senile. Telling her not to shoot the mailman.
Shes eighty-eight!
And Bob Hope was still performing for our troops at that age, Quinn reminded him.
Jake nodded thoughtfully. Its all good. Im glad she likes you. You can talk to her once we figure out which of the citys musicians she might have been talking about. But then, you were good with that charming old battle-ax from Huberts case, and that god-awful painting-society matron, Hattie Lamont, Larue said.
Not as good as Billie, Quinn said, smiling.
Theyre seeing each other?
Oh, yes. They fight like a pair of alley cats sometimes, but they cant stay away from one another, Quinn said.
And Danni?
Danni is great, Quinn said softly. Theyd agreed to take things slowly, which was almost a necessity, given that he was often asked to consult on cases outside Louisiana. But that was something else they shared. They both believed strongly that working to solve strange crimes was an integral part of who they were.
But he loved being back in town, loved being with her. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, five-nine, slim and agile, her every move graceful. Her eyes reminded him of the blue sky on a clear Scottish morning, and her hair was a rich deep auburn. She was deeply compassionate and possessed old Anguss steely courage and determinationand she was just as stubborn as her father, too.
Shes expecting you tonight, he told Larue.
Yeah, well, I was just coming over with the files on the first casewanted to see what you thought or what you might know, since you sit in at the clubs sometimes. But then...then we found Lawrence Barrett. He fell silent.
Quinn turned. The body of Lawrence Barrett was just being carried out.
Ron Hubert nodded to them. Ill get you a report as soon as possible, he promised.
Two in a week? Quinn asked. Wed better get over to the hospital and hope that Lacey Cavanaugh knows something we can use.
* * *
Arnie wasnt messed up, Tyler told Danni. Not like that.
The saxophone was in its case now, and leaning against the counter. She was glad that the shop was empty, because Tyler seemed too upset to care where they were or what was going on.
Lets say youre right. That someone murdered Arnie. Can you think of any reason why? she asked him.
Thats the problem, Tyler said. He leaned an elbow on the counter and looked reflectively into the distance as he spoke. Were talking about a good man here. A black man from a poor neighborhood who went to church every week, loved his family, never stole so much as a dime from anyone and did nothing but love his music. He did the right thinghe up and joined the military because he believed we had to support our way of life. When he came home on leave, he did nothing but hug people and play his music. He didnt talk much about what hed done, just said that war was ugly, there were good people who were the enemy and some jerks who were on the same side. He believed he made a differencehe got to see schools being built, and people from both sides coming together to dig wells and feed starving kids. And enemy or not, he said it was hard as hell to kill a man. He survived bombs and gunfire and...came home to this. And I knew his death wasnt right. I knew it wasnt right from the get-go. He was happy ever since he got homehe came home to his music! His family loved him. Theyre good people. They never had much, but what they didnt have in money, they made up in support. And he never did drugs, not before he went overseas or after he came home. There was no reason for him to walk offstage one night and decide to suddenly stick a needle in his arm. Why cant anyone else see that?
They may question what happened, Tyler, Danni said. But we all see the obvious and find it easy to accept, too. You said he was found on the street, a needle in his arm?
Yes.
No one else around?
He turned his gaze back to her. Would you expect a murderer to hang around?
What Im trying to figure out is how someone got him under control so they were able to stick the needle in his arm. There must have been an autopsy.
There was.
And there was nothing else in his system?
I dont know. Its not like Im trained to read a death certificate. There were some chemical names in there I didnt recognize, but even if they were tranquilizers or something, the cops probably just thought he took them himself. And yes, hed been drinking.
The little bell over the shop door rang. A couple of young tourists came in, and Danni excused herself, walking over to ask them if they needed any help. They were looking for a specific line of jewelry, and she carried it. She was glad it was in a display case to one side of the store, not under the counter where Tyler was standing as if unaware of her customers, though he managed a smile when they came over to pay.
But as soon as they were gone, he asked, Well, what do you think?
What did she think?
She didnt know what to think. She remembered Arnie. Like Tyler, hed been a couple of years ahead of her in high school, but hed played beautifully even then, and she could remember watching him play in the school band. Hed been a big guy, a solid, muscular six-two, at least.
And hed had training when he joined the military. He couldnt have been an easy mark.
But she did find it strange that, if Tyler was right, he would begin with drugs by heading straight for a needle.
I dont know what to think, she said.
* * *
Lacey Cavanaugh was out of surgery. In her horror and anguish, shed pitched down the steep front steps and smashed a kneecap. The doctor warned Quinn and Larue that she was still under heavy sedationprobably a double-edged good thing. She would otherwise be in tremendous pain over both the loss of her boyfriend and the wreck of her leg.
Quinn was standing closest to her head. She opened her eyes when he took her hand.
Miss Cavanaugh, Jake said, were so sorry to bother you when I know youre hurting in every possible way, but Im afraid we need to talk to you. Im Detective Larue, and this is my associate Michael Quinn. We have some questions we need to ask you, because as Im sure you know, time is of the essence as we try to apprehend whoevers guilty of your boyfriends...death. So if you could just think back, when was the last time you saw Mr. Barrett?
Lacey stared at him from her haze, tears in her eyes. Oh, God. Larry...
Quinn squeezed her hand. Were so sorry, he said softly. We know you loved him, and that he was a good man.
Larue stared at him; they didnt really know that hed been a good man.
But the words had the desired effect on Lacey. She looked at Quinn with such grief and gratitude in her eyes that he almost regretted being quite so gentle.
He was the best, she said softly.
And we have to find out who killed him, Quinn said. You want him punished for what he did, dont you?
She nodded. I last saw Larry...last night. I didnt stay, because my little sister had a piano recital.
So last night at what time? Quinn asked.
Seven, she said.
And you didnt go back to his house until this afternoon? Larue asked.