Mystery on the Tramway Page 7

  “No, no, my first computer was an IBM AT, it had an Intel 486 chip in it.” Henry explained.

  “Oh, now I get it.” Wayne said, though he didn’t.

  “Never mind, I’ll keep an eye out for the Jeep.” Henry said.

  “Thanks, what time is she coming? Are you ready?” Wayne asked.

  “You mean Gloria? She’s coming tomorrow at lunch time. The housekeeper is coming early in the morning, and then I guess I’m ready.” Henry sighed, he felt as though he was never going to be really ready. It didn’t help that all of his friends were asking if he was ready for her arrival.

  “Yes, of course Gloria. Who else? Well enjoy your day with her tomorrow and we’ll see you the day after.” Wayne said.

  “We’ll be there. I’m looking forward to having you meet her. I hope the two of you will like her.” Henry answered.

  “I’m sure we will. I’m about to turn into my driveway, I’ll call you if we find Todd Gregory. Will you have your cell phone with you if you go out?”

  “Yes, I’ll bring it along when we go out. I don’t expect that we’ll go anywhere before we come over and see you though. I just want to hang around here and catch up with her.” Henry said.

  “I can understand that, ok; we’ll see you on the Fourth.”

  “Ok, Wayne, say hello to Elliot and see you then.” Henry hung up the phone. Finding Todd Gregory was the key to solving this mystery he felt, he couldn’t explain why. That young man’s disappearance was a telling sign that he was the link in this whole puzzle.

  Chapter 6

  Henry was awake early the next morning. It was July third and Gloria was due to arrive today! They had agreed that she would be too busy at her daughter’s house to talk on the phone, so he hadn’t heard from her for over a week. She said she would call before leaving Redlands, from there it would take her only forty-five minutes to get here.

  He looked up at the still dark sky and went to the side of the pool and turned on the underwater light. He dropped his towel on the chaise lounge and jumped into the pool. The water felt good against his bare skin. Adjusting his goggles and starting his stopwatch, he started swimming slowly. He turned the tramway slaying problem over and over in his head.

  He remembered what Charles said yesterday. Figure out how the murder was committed first instead of focusing on who did it. Charles seemed to think that knowing how would lead him directly to whom. He would have to do a little reasoning there. Terrance Quinn was shot from six to eight feet away according to the crime lab. That certainly ruled out suicide. Also ruling out suicide was the fact that the gun wasn’t found in the gondola. As he told Wayne yesterday afternoon, it was impossible to toss a gun out the window with a bullet in your brain.

  That only left Todd Gregory. He must have lied about finding Quinn dead. He must have shot him as the tram arrived at the Valley Station. The lab crew said that there weren’t any powder marks on Todd Gregory’s overalls or hands, but he could have changed and worn gloves. Gregory had called Margolis first instead of calling the police, which could have given him enough time to change his overalls, ditch the gloves and put on the distraught employee act that Wayne saw.

  The more angles Henry looked at the more Todd Gregory looked like the most likely suspect. Damn, where did that kid go? How could Wayne have let him leave? It was a good thing he was going to see Wayne at the barbecue tomorrow he could ask him to go back to the gun shops with Gregory’s photograph to see if he was familiar. They should probably go back in their records a full year, Todd Gregory was now nineteen, he had turned eighteen a little over a year ago, and that would make him old enough to purchase a firearm. But then again, the gun shops claimed they hadn’t sold any .38 caliber guns recently. Maybe he should go over and talk with Todd Gregory’s mother, he didn’t want to go and see her at the casino, Margolis had given him her home number and address, he’d give her a call later.

  His watch started beeping; it was hard to believe that he’d been swimming for forty-five minutes already. He was only a little winded; perhaps it was time to increase his swim to an hour. He stood up, switched off the stopwatch, took off his goggles laid them on the cement edge and floated on his back in the pool. The sky was an amazing pinkish, bluish color, the sun was just rising and it looked beautiful. He turned and Mount San Jacinto could be seen rising straight up from the desert floor. He wondered if he could ever look at the peaks again without thinking of poor Terrance Quinn and his last trip down that very mountain.

  He climbed out of the pool and picked his towel up and realized that the entire time that he’d been swimming he was thinking about the tramway murder, not Gloria. He smiled to himself; perhaps working on Wayne’s problem had been a good thing the past couple of days. He certainly felt calmer about Gloria’s arrival this morning. He finished drying off and wrapped the big towel around him and headed into the kitchen to start the coffee pot.

  A couple of hours later, while Juanita, the housekeeper, was working her magic with her vacuum and mop, he pulled up at Ralph’s, the barber to the stars, on Indian Canyon Drive. Henry pushed open the door and it was as though he crossed the threshold into a different era. The shop looked like it did in the early fifties when it first opened. There were black and white checkerboard tiles on the floor, two old leather upholstered barber chairs and a small sink for washing hair in the back. On the walls of the little shop were black and white photographs of numerous movie stars of the forties and fifties all with perfectly coiffed hair. Some of the pictures were autographed, most to Ralph, some to Mario.

  An old fashioned poster hung between the two chairs showing the different haircuts that were available in the shop. They included a flattop, a butch and a “men’s regular.” Even though Henry had been awake for quite a while, it was still early and Mario, who still had a trace of accent from his native country, waved him into the empty chair. Ralph had retired long ago and Mario took over the shop but he was not about to change the name of the shop from Ralph’s to Mario’s. The little establishment had been there for more than fifty years as Ralph’s, and Mario didn’t want to confuse his customers by changing anything.

  “Your usual Henry?” Mario asked as he wrapped a tissue around Henry’s neck.

  “Yes, a number two if you please.” Henry replied, closing his eyes. He was here once every three weeks and Mario clippered his hair to a short buzz cut. He could probably save a few bucks and do it himself but he liked the pampering he got from Mario.

  “So what’s keeping you busy these days Henry?” Mario asked.

  “Oh, I’ve had a hectic couple of weeks behind me getting the house ready for a friend who’s coming for a visit.” Henry answered.

  “One of your ex-colleagues, a former policeman?” Mario put the barber drape around him.

  “No actually, someone I met recently, a couple of months ago when I was in Northern California.” Henry replied.

  “Ah, I see, it must be a woman.” Mario turned around and got his clippers ready for Henry’s haircut. “I thought you going be busy with helping the police figure out how that guy at the tram was killed.”

  “What makes you say that?” Henry asked.

  “What, the woman part or the helping the police part?”

  “Tell me the woman part first.”

  “If you were meeting a man, you say a guy I met, or a friend of mine. If you are meeting a woman, you say someone and you keep me guessing.”

  “You’re too smart Mario, maybe you ought to help the police find the killer.” Henry smiled.

  “You can’t cut hair for as long as me without learning something about people.”

  “Now tell me about why you think I’m helping the police.”

  “The newspaper, the Desert Sun, said that the police was calling on a local freelance investigator to help them figure out how this janitor was murdered.” Mario said.

  “Really, and what makes you think that this freelance investigator is me?” Henry looked in the mirror across from him as M
ario started cutting his hair.

  “Well, last time the Palm Springs Police got stuck didn’t they get you to help out?” Mario stopped and looked at Henry in the mirror.

  “Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean that I’m a freelance investigator. That time I just helped out a friend that’s all.”

  “So if your friend asks you for help this time, you are going to turn him down? I do not think so.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right. It’s hard to turn down a friend who needs help.”

  “Ever since you been coming in here I know you like to help people out. I think that if your friend at the police department ask you for help, then you would be happy to do that.” Mario waved his buzzing clippers in the air to make a point. Henry didn’t mind that he used his hands to talk, Mario couldn’t help it, but he was glad that he pulled the buzzing machine away from his head before doing it.

  “Well, I am sort of looking into things as I have time. Like I said, I have a friend, yes, she’s a lady friend, coming for a visit, so I’m not working on this investigation full time, only as I can fit it in.” Henry explained.

  “The newspaper says that the police have not found the murder weapon. Henry, I think you need to help them do that first. In all the television shows I watch, those crime lab people can find out amazing things from the gun that was used in the killing.” Mario said. “You know, on the show last week they looked at the gun and they said that the killer likes peanut butter. They could tell that from the gun. Amazing! Maybe your killer likes strawberry jam. You look for someone who eats the jam and you got your killer.”

  Henry was not surprised that Mario was making suggestions for helping him. It seemed like everyone that he talked with had their own way that they wanted Henry to use to solve this crime. “I agree, but there is no sign of that gun anywhere.”

  “You know Henry; I love this country, it’s given me a lot, I mean I own my own business and all that, but there are just too many guns here.”

  “Mario, I own two handguns myself, but as a former policeman I do agree that there are a lot of guns out in general circulation.” Henry was really torn on this whole gun issue. He didn’t want to give his up, but as a former cop, he felt that if the number of guns could be reduced, there would be a lot fewer accidental shootings.

  “This country is amazing Henry, no where in my home country or anywhere in Europe for that matter, have I ever seen a gun show. I mean, we have flower shows, pet shows, camping shows, but only here in the United States do we have gun shows.” Mario shook his head as he put his clippers away and brushed the stray hair from Henry’s shoulders with a soft brush.

  “Gun shows? Yeah, they have one at the Riverside County Fairgrounds once a year.” Henry furrowed his brow. Is this why the police were striking out at the Coachella Valley gun shops?

  Mario rubbed some smelly stuff into the stubble that was left of his hair and massaged his scalp. “Henry, these shows are all over the place and they are a lot more frequent than once a year. I’m just glad that they haven’t had one at the Palm Springs Convention Center over here. I think that would be terrible.”

  “Yeah, I agree. You know, I think you might have put me onto something here.” Henry got up from the chair and reached into his pocket for some cash.

  “You mean I helped out with your investigation? What did I say? Was it about the peanut butter or the jam?” Mario smiled.

  Henry handed Mario a twenty for the fourteen dollar haircut. “Keep the change Mario, I appreciate your help, and the hair looks great as always, see you in a few weeks.”

  “Thank you Henry, you are always generous and I’m glad to help out.” Mario smiled as he put Henry’s bill into the old fashioned NCR crank cash register.

  Henry waved at Mario as he walked out the door and got back into his car for the short drive home. He was happy to see that Juanita’s car was gone, the house would be spotless. He parked in the garage next to Charles’ Explorer and the door from the kitchen opened and Charles stuck his head out before Henry had shut off the engine.

  “She’s on her way.” Charles yelled over the noise of the garage door opener.

  Henry opened his car door and calmly said. “Now you’re the one getting excited, I know she’s on her way, she’s going to call when she leaves her daughter’s house in Redlands.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you Henry, she called about fifteen minutes ago, said she was leaving Redlands, she said she’d be here in about forty-five minutes.” Charles gestured at his watch.

  “Oh, crap Charles, are you kidding me? Fifteen minutes ago? That means she’ll be here in half an hour. I’m not ready, I had to go out for a haircut, I still need to make my bed, the dishes are in the sink and I want to run the vacuum over the carpet in the living room. Are you sure it was fifteen minutes ago, not more like twenty? Can you help me?”

  Charles stomped his foot on the kitchen floor. “Henry, snap out of it. Of course I’ll help you, now will you relax? Criminy, you’re acting like this is your first date. ”

  “You’re right. Sorry about that. Ok, if you’ll vacuum, I’ll get the dishes and make my bed as well. Thanks Charles.”

  Within twenty minutes they were done with their last minute chores and Henry walked over to the guest bedroom to do a last minute check on the room that Gloria would be using. He straightened the picture that they hung a few days ago and took a last look around. Everything looked great, and Henry went back to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee.

  A few minutes later, Gloria’s bright red four wheel drive pickup pulled up into the driveway and Henry walked out the rarely used front door and gave her a big hug and kissed her cheek as she got out of the truck. He held her at arms length and looked at her. She looked the same as she had in Sonora two months before, except better Henry thought. Her dark hair was cut in a short style that framed her face. She was wearing a fairly short denim skirt, a pink polo shirt and black sandals. She might have been in her mid-fifties, but she was in great shape and looked every inch a woman. He gave her a second hug and then pulled her bags from the passenger seat and they walked towards the house together.

  “It’s great to see you, you look terrific. I’m so glad you’re here. You’re early.” Henry said turning to look at her.

  “Thank you, you look good too. Have you been exercising?” Gloria smiled her big bright smile that lit up her face.

  “Just my daily laps in the pool.” Henry shrugged. “How about you?”

  “No workouts, I’ve gone on some hikes around that little lake I took you to in May; I’m not ever going to that gym up there.” Gloria shook her head.

  “Yeah, I remember that guy that ran that, Scott Vining, what a creep. You’re better off staying as far away from him as possible.” Henry said with a chuckle.

  “I saw Bill Rustow at the restaurant before I left, he said to say hello to you.” Gloria said as she stepped through the front door. “Wow Henry, your house is gorgeous.” She took her eyes off him and looked around; they were standing in the bottom of the U shaped house where the living and dining rooms and the kitchen were. The ceilings in these rooms were fourteen feet high and the beams supporting the roof were exposed. The architect designed the house with high ceilings to let the warm air rise in order to help keep the house cooler. The air conditioner that now did that job was not added until much after the house’s original construction. Gloria looked over at the two sets of French doors which were closed because the air conditioning was running, but the pool and garden in their entire splendor were visible through the glass of the doors.

  Henry had put her bags down at their feet, and now picked them up again. “Let me show you to your room, and then I’ll give you a tour of the house and yard.”

  Just then, Pierre came trotting in from the wing of the house where Charles’ bedroom and the guest room were located. “Well hello little fellow, how are you?” Gloria bent down and picked up the little poodle. “You must be Pierre.”

&n
bsp; Charles came walking in looking for the little dog. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for him to get out. I wanted to give the two of you some time alone since you haven’t seen each other in so long. He snuck out, he’s curious to see who is here.”

  “Charles, this is Gloria, Gloria this is my housemate Charles.” Henry set Gloria’s bags down again; he was enjoying introducing one of his best friends to another of his best friends.

  Charles held out his hand which Gloria ignored, instead she wrapped her free arm around Charles and gave him a big hug while holding on to the now wriggling Pierre in one arm. “It’s so wonderful to meet you Charles, I’ve heard a lot about you. Thank you for taking such great care of Henry.”

  “It’s good to meet you too Gloria, I’m so happy that you are here. Maybe now things will get back to relatively normal around here.” Charles looked over at Henry and raised one eyebrow as he took Pierre from Gloria.

  Henry smiled and picked up Gloria’s bags again. “I’m tired of picking these bags up constantly, let me get her settled in her room, and then we can sit and socialize.”

  Henry walked Gloria to the guest room and set her bags on the bed. “Henry, this room is wonderful, I love these French doors directly out into the garden.” Gloria looked out the glass at the pool. “No wonder you’re in good shape, I’ll swim laps in that beautiful pool as well.”

  “That sounds good, we can take turns. Here is your own bathroom, Charles has the room at the end of the hall, he has his own bathroom as well. He’s no trouble really; you will hardly know he’s here.” Henry showed her the guest bathroom; he had stocked it with new towels and a fluffy terrycloth robe.