Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon

I was in luck; Michael answered on the third ring.

“Hey, great timing; we just finished the ritual sacrifice scene and broke for lunch,“ he said. “I have an idea that will take your mind off all the horrible stuff that's been going on. Want to have a virtual date?“

“A what?“

“I got the idea from Walker – he does it all the time when he's on location or something. We figure out a restaurant chain that has a branch here and in Caerphilly.“

“Probably either Pizza Hut or McDonald's,“ I said.

“Or maybe not a chain,“ he said without missing a beat, “maybe we just both go to the restaurant of our choice, and we can call each other on our cell phones and talk to each other while we order and wait for our food and eat. Ta-da – a virtual date.“

“And this is Walker's idea of a date? Do you think this could be at least part of the reason Walker's girlfriends keep dumping him after a couple of weeks?“

“Actually, I hear they find the virtual dates rather sweet; it's the real ones that kill things. I have it on good authority that he likes to read them his fan mail.“

“Ick.“

“In bed.“

“Double ick,“ I said. “I know he's been your buddy since you were both on the soap opera together and you feel grateful that he helped you get the role on his show, but given Walker's track record, let's do a rain check on the virtual date thing. Anyway, I need to ask you something.“

“Ask away, angel.“

“If you were in Caerphilly – “

“Now if I were in Caerphilly, you could forget ail about the virtual date thing, absolutely. We'd start with dinner at Luigi's – an early dinner, because – “

“Hold that thought,“ I said. “We can discuss it later; things are a little hectic right now. If you were getting arrested in Caerphilly and needed a good criminal attorney – “

“Oh, God – what have you done now?“

“What have I done?“ I repeated. “What have I done? I like that!“

“I meant the collective you – as in you, your father, your brother, and the whole motley staff of Mutant Wizards, for whose mere existence I feel at least partly responsible. What have you all been doing, and who has gotten himself or herself arrested for what crime?“

“Nice recovery, but I'm not buying it,“ I said. “Just tell me who you'd call if your suspicions were correct and I'd gone off the straight and narrow in your absence. I think the police are going to arrest Rob, and I don't want him talking any more without a lawyer.“

He came up right away with the names of two attorneys he thought would be the best prospects and made me promise to call if I had news.

“And I didn't mean that I thought you'd committed a crime,“ he said. “Only that you have this absolutely charming tendency to wade in to protect your family and friends when you think they're in trouble – “

“And sometimes the local authorities don't like me interfering,“ I said. “Yes, I know.“

“For that matter, whoever really killed this Ted guy might not like you interfering,“ he said. “Be careful, will you?“

“Don't worry,“ I said. “I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself.“ And then, seeing out of the corner of my eye that someone was hovering at my elbow, I added, “Gotta run; I'll call you later.“

“Can I help you?“ I said, turning. It was Dr. Gruber, one of the therapists – although I'd learned by now that she preferred not to be called Dr. Gruber, and I still couldn't quite bring myself to address this severe and stately woman as Lorelei. Or perhaps I couldn't warm to her because I didn't like the way she, at six feet, loomed over me. I was only two inches shorter, but I wasn't all that used to being shorter than another woman, and I wasn't at all sure I liked it.

“Not a good sign,“ Dr. Lorelei said, shaking her head.

“I beg your pardon?“

“Sounds as if he's trying to control your behavior from afar,“ she said. “Not a good sign.“

“He's not trying to control my behavior,“ I said. “He's worried about me.“

“Sometimes it takes that form,“ she said, nodding. “Tell me, have you considered using this enforced separation as a time to reexamine your relationship with this… actor person? To establish appropriate boundaries?“

I blinked, somewhat taken aback. If you asked me, it was Dr. Lorelei and some of the other therapists who needed to work on the appropriate boundaries thing. Since the first day I'd met them – only two weeks ago, though it seemed rather longer – they all seemed to think me badly in need of their services. And not just therapy, but the particular species of therapy each one of them practiced. For instance, the woman who did weight management counseling, calling her business Eat Your Way Skinny, and her arch rival, a size-acceptance guru, began feuding over me the minute they saw me. Which I couldn't help resenting; I thought I'd already reached not only a pretty acceptable weight but also a decently philosophical attitude about the fact that I would never be a willowy blonde like my mother.

And now here was Dr. Lorelei trying to shoehorn me into her couples' therapy practice.

“I'll think about it,“ I said. I'd found that was as close as I could get to “leave me the hell alone“ without triggering a discussion on why I always reacted with such hostility to their efforts to help me. “Was there something you needed?“

“Will the offices be open tomorrow?“ she demanded. “We'd all like to be able to notify our patients if the offices will be closed tomorrow. Or if the police will be present; it could be extremely traumatic for some of our patients to see the police on the premises.“

“As far as I know we'll be open tomorrow,“ I said. “But I can't guarantee police-free premises, under the circumstances, so maybe you should advise any clients who might be on the lam to skip this week's appointment.“

I left her with her mouth hanging open and went in search of a phone book.

Roger had begun trailing after me, looking as if he were about to say something, but then Roger was capable of looking that way for hours with no audible results. I ignored him, and he continued to follow me, an irritating and faintly threatening presence. I couldn't quite tell why I found him threatening – he was only about five-ten, the same as I, or would be if he stood up straight. Perhaps it was the combination of his stooped posture, stocky form, and shaggy hair – it was rather like having a hulking bear shambling along at my heels, and a bear I wasn't entirely sure was tame.

I shook him off, finally, when I dropped by the shoe-repair shop across the street and used their phone book to look up numbers for the lawyers Michael recommended. Then I went back to a reasonably empty comer of the parking lot and pulled out my cell phone. The first lawyer wasn't in. The second one agreed to race down to the police station.

The parking lot had emptied out considerably by the time I finished. I was relieved to see that most of the other dog owners had already taken their charges home – to air-conditioning, I hoped. A dozen of the programmers still seemed to be harassing the officers guarding the entry to the office. No sense upsetting the local authorities more than necessary, I thought, so I strode over to tell them all to get lost until tomorrow.

“But what about our build?“ moaned Keisha, a petite African American who was one of Mutant Wizards's few female programmers. “Do you realize what it's going to do to our schedule if we miss today's build?“

“Schedule's totally f – I mean, it's totally messed up already,“ Frankie muttered.

“No, we'll manage,“ Jack said, arriving on the outskirts of the group. “We've got that spare server over at the Pines, remember? We can do the next build there.“

“Yeah,“ Frankie said, “but what good will that do if they won't let us in to get our files?“

“Don't worry,“ Jack said. “Luis took care of that.“ All eyes turned to Luis, but only briefly, since they realized almost immediately that Luis wouldn't be giving them any explanations. Luis, a slender twenty-something Hispanic, was one of the few staff members for whom I hadn't found a nickname – he was so quiet that I tended to forget he existed when he wasn't actually around. When he saw us looking at him, he blushed and stooped slightly as if trying to make his already slight form too small to be seen.

“As soon as we heard the police were coming, Luis realized that they'd probably kick us out and shut us down,“ Jack went on. “So he tarred up the contents of our server and e-mailed them to his home e-mail account.“

“Way to go, Luis!“ Frankie exclaimed, and they headed off in a cheerful, chattering herd.

“Anything I can do for you?“ Jack said, lingering behind.

“Nothing I can think of, beyond what you just did,“ I said. “No, I tell a lie – here, take Spike, and ask Frankie to keep him until Rob gets back. If Frankie balks, tell him I need to be free to dash out at any time during the night to bail Rob out.“

“Can do,“ Jack said, picking up Spike's crate.

Offloading Spike cheered me up a little. The only thing more depressing than spending the evening alone in the dark, cramped Cave was having to share it with Spike.

I finally got into my car, still ignoring Roger the Stalker, who stood at the edge of the parking lot, hands in pockets, watching me drive off. I revised my assessment of Roger. He wasn't just a little strange; he was seriously creepy. Maybe it would be a good idea to have the chief check him out. Or better yet, one of our resident shrinks.

I turned on the radio before starting the car, and I punched the button for the college station to see if our murder had made the news. As usual, I hit the middle of a commercial, and a particularly annoying commercial at that, for a local auto-repair shop. I'd have switched stations, but I needed my good hand on the wheel, so I tuned out the Fabulous Singing Muffler Sisters and was fretting uselessly about what might be going on down at the police station – and should I drop by the police station? – when a familiar voice broke into my reveries.

“One more important thing you should remember,“ I heard Lorelei proclaim. I whirled and checked the backseat, thinking for a moment I had taken a stowaway aboard.

“And this is a very important thing to remember about all relationships,“ she continued. I realized the voice was coming from the radio.

“They're not static.“

“Yeah, but you are,“ I growled back.

I fumed for a few more minutes as Dr. Lorelei imparted more generic advice on managing one's relationship. Possibly good advice, if you weren't too irritated to pay attention. The woman – she sounded very young – who had apparently called in to ask Dr. Lorelei a question fell all over herself with gratitude, so maybe it was good advice. But I couldn't help feeling irrationally annoyed that after I'd managed to cut Dr. Lorelei off in the parking lot, she'd found a way of following me home.

Though as I learned at the end of her show, it was only luck and my normal preference for quiet thinking time on the drive home that had saved me from hearing her before. The college radio station aired Lorelei listens, her advice show, on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons at this same time, with a repeat at 1 A.M. Prerecorded, then – of course, it had to be, since the half-hour show would have been just about to start when she'd badgered me in the parking lot.

Perhaps 1 should complain to the programming director. I began phrasing a witty letter accusing the station of air pollution. But no need – Lorelei's days on the college station were already numbered. September 1 would bring the debut of a new nationally syndicated version of Lorelei Listens on the rival commercial radio station.

I wondered if the college radio station would be replacing her with another psychologist who hadn't yet broken into the big leagues. Perhaps she had recommended one of her colleagues around the office? Not that any of them seemed hot prospects to me. Certainly not Lorelei's partner. Apparently couples therapy, like mixed doubles, had to be done in coeducational pairs. I wasn't surprised that Lorelei had chosen to join forces with a mousy-looking male therapist so self-effacing that he never seemed to speak except to echo something Lorelei had just said.

But at least they didn't squabble, like the dueling weight therapists. Or Dr. Brown, inventor of the Affirmation Bear, whose improbable specialty was anger management, and who carried on a running feud with the burly, red-faced psychologist who seemed intent on browbeating the world into studying assertiveness.

My cell phone rang. Normally I try to avoid using it while I'm driving, but I was only one block from the apartment, and when I recognized Michael's number, I managed to pause at a stop sign and answer it. And pin it between my ear and my shoulder, which meant I looked like Quasimodo but I could still drive.

“Are you off work?“ Michael asked.

“Finally,“ I said. “And here I was hoping to get off a little early, what with the murder and all.“

“So that's the real reason ya bumped him off,“ Michael said, in his best Cagney imitation.

“They'll never prove a thing. Hang on, I'm turning into the driveway – I don't want to sideswipe the landlord's bike again.“

I parked the car and returned to our conversation as I descended the steep stairs into the Cave.

“So what else is new?“ Michael asked as I checked the mailbox.

“Oh, God, no,“ I muttered.

“What's wrong?“ he said. “If you need to hang up and call the police – “

“Nothing's wrong,“ I said. “Mother sent another package.“

“Another decorating book?“

“Odds are,“ I said, stuffing the package under my left arm so I could open the front door with my good right hand.

“She's not still into faux finishes, is she?“ Michael asked, anxiously. “I really was worried that I'd come home last weekend to find she'd faux marbled the whole place.“

“No, I convinced her that no amount of faux marbling would make the Cave look like anything other than a dank, underground hole.“

“That's a relief.“

“I did have a little trouble talking her out of the underwater grotto idea.“

“Underwater grotto?“

“Faux coral walls decorated with tasteful murals of seaweed and colorful marine life.“

“But you did talk her out of it, right?“ he asked. “She doesn't still think it's a good idea?“

“She may, for all I know. But after I told her what I thought about it, she hasn't spoken to me for nearly a week. I suppose the book's intended as a peace offering.“

“What's it about?“

“Hang on, I think I need my teeth to finish opening this,“ I said.

“You'll break them if you aren't careful,“ he said.

I didn't argue, partly because I was tired of arguing about the subject, and partly because I had a mouth full of packaging tape.

“It's called Living Graciously in a Single Room,“ I announced when I'd spat out the tape.

“At least she's getting practical,“ he said, chuckling. “Seriously, have you learned anything new since the last time we talked?“

“Only that Dr. Lorelei thinks we should use our enforced separation to reevaluate our relationship,“ I said. I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the couch with Mother's book, so I could leaf through it as we talked.

“Lorelei Gruber? The radio shrink? How the hell did you run into her?“

“She's one of the therapists we're sharing space with,“ I said. “You know her?“

“In a way, though I doubt she remembers me fondly. I was one of the people who blew the whistle on her.“

“Blew the whistle,“ I repeated with glee. “What was she doing?“

“Ever heard that show of hers? The inaccurately named Lorelei Listens?“

“Just; caught the tail end of it a few minutes ago,“ I said. “I can't exactly say I'm rushing to note the broadcast times on my calendar.“

“That's good, because with any luck they'll be pulling the plug on her eventually. For using actors to call in with pre-rehearsed questions, instead of real callers.“

“How did you figure that out?“

“I recognized the voices of a lot of her callers as students of mine,“ Michael said. “A couple of the other drama professors and I filed a complaint last fall. It dragged on forever, but someone told me that she was going off the air at the end of the summer.“

“Off the college station, anyway,“ I said. “She's going into national syndication.“

“Oh, good grief,“ he said. “I wonder if whoever signed her knows about her credibility problems. Probably wouldn't care if they did. She'll probably move up to a TV talk show before we know it.“

“Michael, this is great,“ I said.

“You obviously weren't listening to that show of hers.“

“No, I mean it's great, because we can use this to help Rob. One of the main reasons Chief Burke is so interested in Rob is that he thinks Ted was blackmailing him.“

“Because of the note, right.“

“So what if Ted were also trying to blackmail Dr. Lorelei? She obviously has a lot to be blackmailed about – which means she could have a really good motive for murder, not to mention the same means and opportunity Rob had.“

“Hmmm,“ he said. “Maybe. How big was Ted?“

I thought. “A couple of inches taller than me,“ I said. “Six feet – maybe as much as six-one.“

“Physically fit?“

“About average,“ I said. “On the skinny side, but no one would call him lean and muscular. Still, he could hold his own in the hallway Frisbee matches. Why?“

“Given her size, it's not impossible, but still – strangling sounds more like something a guy would do than a woman. Especially if the victim is a little above average height and not physically impaired in any way. Wouldn't it take a lot of strength?“

“The chief mentioned something about the killer stunning him with a karate chop to the larynx before strangling him.“

“And he knows for certain it was a karate chop… how?“

I laughed. “Good point,“ I said. “For all we know, the killer could have whacked him with some common desk object, like a phone receiver or a bookend or a three-hole punch. But I'm not entirely sure we want to discourage the chief if he thinks some martial arts expert was the killer.“

“You're always quoting your teacher about how really good martial artists avoid violence. Why let the chief keep on looking for a martial arts expert?“

“Because right now, he thinks Rob is a martial arts expert,“ I said. “As soon as he finds out Rob is a complete klutz, maybe he'll release him and investigate someone else. Yeah, I know it's ridiculous,“ I continued, a little more loudly, so he could hear me over his hoots of laughter, “but he saw Rob doing the Crouching Buzzard kata in the hallway, and now he's arrested him, because of the coincidence of the buzzard kata, purse fu, the shuriken, and the blackmail note. Which means it's all my fault he's arrested. Well, partly my fault; I didn't have anything to do with the shuriken and the blackmail note.“

“Oh, brother,“ Michael said, and I suspected he was wiping tears from his eyes. “And you know Rob isn't in any hurry to let the chief know that he's not a martial arts master. Right now, he's probably enjoying being prime suspect.“

“I'm sure he is,“ I said. “But sooner or later, he'll panic when he realizes the chief is serious. So I'd like to make sure the chief looks at some other people.“

“And you're going to pick on anyone who's a martial arts expert.“

“Maybe not,“ I said. “Apart from me – and I'm certainly no expert, even when I have both hands in good working order – Jack Ransom's the only other person I can think of who seems to have done any real martial arts training. And I don't know that he's an expert; he just doesn't seem quite so clueless as everyone else around there. Maybe I'll see if I can get the chief to pick on the other Bruce Lee wannabes.“

“You have others, besides Rob?“

“Tons of them,“ I said. “Mostly because of Rob. It's monkey see, monkey do around here; as soon as they see Rob's interested in something, they all jump on the bandwagon. Ever since Rob took up karate, they've all been trying to join studios, wearing gis, and waving around nunchaku and shurikens. That's probably where the shuriken the police found came from, anyway. It was probably just lying on the mail cart, nothing to do with the murder.“

“Why do I not find that reassuring?“ Michael mused. “That you're spending your days in a place with lethal weapons just lying around on the mail cart? I don't suppose I could convince you to come out here after all?“

“I thought you liked the idea of me staying here, keeping my eye open for a house.“

“Oh? Have you had a lot of free time today for househunting? For that matter, have you had a lot of free time for anything since the minute you walked into that crazy place?“

“It's bound to get better, now that we're in the new office,“ I said. “At least it will once all the fallout from Ted's murder is over with. And then I might actually have time to read Living Graciously in a Single Room. Which isn't going to be as helpful as you'd think.“

“Why not?“

“Most of these single rooms are giant lofts with panoramic views of the Manhattan skyline or the San Francisco Bay. So much for Mother turning practical.“

“At least she's trying.“

“Trying too hard, if you ask me,“ I growled. I, flipped the book closed and added it to the two-foot-high stack of decorating books that we were using as an end table. If Mother didn't stop sending books soon, we'd have to start building a second end table. Or perhaps a room divider. I was beginning to dread checking the mail and finding yet another large, flat parcel, I thought – and that jogged my memory.

“Hang on a second,“ I said. “I just remembered something I need to do first thing tomorrow; I want to jot it in my notebook.“

“Things to do today,“ Michael intoned. “Number one, find a new receptionist. Number two, find Ted's killer.“

“No way,“ I said. “I just want to remember to call the company that supplies the mail cart. The police impounded the one. we had, so I need to get them to bring over another one.“

“So finding Ted's killer moves to number three.“

“No way,“ I said.

“I thought that's the whole reason you were there,“ he said. “To find out what's wrong in the company.“

“And fat lot of good I've been at mat,“ I said.

“You haven't figured out anything that could account for Rob's worrying?“

“All I know is that if there's a problem here, it isn't financial,“ I said. “And I can't even take full credit for that; Mother did as much as I did.“

“Your mother?“

“I know everyone thinks she's a financial bantamweight, especially anyone who's seen her in action as a shopper, but she's actually pretty financially savvy.“

“Yes, especially when it comes to telling other people what they should do with their money.“

“Precisely,“ I said. “So after I'd looked over the books, I reminded her that any financial malfeasance at Mutant Wizards would ultimately reduce the dividends she received as a stockholder and got her to do the same thing.“

“And she didn't find anything?“

“A lot of potential money-saving ideas. She recommended against installing the mail cart, incidentally. Wish I'd had more success talking Rob out of it. And the lousy discount coffee is her fault; we'll be changing that as soon as I can manage it.“

“But no financial irregularities.“

“No, more's the pity,“ I said. “Finding and firing a crooked accountant would be a quick, painless fix.“

“And now you have another mystery to solve,“ Michael said.

“I'll leave that to Chief Burke,“ I said. “Like I said, all I want to do is give him enough reasons to keep investigating, instead of just latching on to Rob as the guilty party.“

“Yeah, right,“ Michael said.