Hotline to Murder

CHAPTER 28

The next morning as Tony prepared his version of an omelet for breakfast, he thought some more about Fred. He couldn’t picture Fred as a killer. A masturbator, yes. He was obviously that. The pictures, the phone calls, the voice-altering mechanism. The girls had been trained to hang up on him whenever he started talking dirty-and rightly so. But he didn’t appear to have any normal sexual outlets. Whatever normal meant.

Not only did he show no signs of anger or pugnacity, he wasn’t as big as Joy. And Tony couldn’t picture him wielding a knife to subdue her, let alone strangling her. When Tony had gone to meet him the first time, Fred had fled before he even knew that Tony was a man instead of a girl. It had probably taken all the guts he had just to go to the meeting place. He had undoubtedly persuaded himself that Shahla-Sally-wouldn’t show up, and so he was safe. But when someone did show up, he couldn’t face the situation.

And last night, Shahla had again talked him into meeting her. This invitation was so different from the usual hang ups he received from the girls that he had been flustered enough to give his work address. He had grasped at a thread of hope, while probably dreading what would happen if she actually came. But when she didn’t come, it cemented his self-image. He was a loser, and girls wouldn’t have anything to do with him.

One more thing. Fred undoubtedly had an alibi for the night of the murder. He had probably been working. And although he worked alone, didn’t he have to punch time clocks and leave other tracks during his shift?

That sealed it. Tony was not going to talk to Detective Croyden about Fred. For one thing, he didn’t want to take Croyden’s shit about doing police work and interfering with the law. He hadn’t interfered with anything. Croyden would be able to verify Fred’s employment, his alibi, and anything else he wanted to know. And nothing Tony had done would stop him. Fred didn’t associate him with the police or with the Hotline. He was sure of that.

The doorbell chimed. Who could that be at 10:00 on a Saturday morning? Tony glanced at his attire, relieved that he was wearing shorts, even though he was shirtless. At least he was presentable enough to answer the door. He padded slowly into the living room, without his crutches. He didn’t intend to use them anymore. He didn’t bother to look through the peephole in the front door. The sun was shining and nothing bad could be lurking outside. He opened the door and found himself looking at the crooked nose of Detective Croyden.

It was a shock to see the man he had just been thinking about. Tony stared at him for a moment before he found his voice. “Good morning, Detective Croyden,” he said. “Do you work twenty-four hours a day?”

“Thirty, sometimes. I’ve come to talk to Josh.”

Josh. Tony was horrified. When he had given the panties to Croyden, he had known at some level that Croyden would have to talk to Josh. But he hadn’t actually pictured how this would take place. In his house. And so soon.

“Josh is still asleep.” He had come home even later than Tony.

“Well, wake him up. This is official police business. And I want to talk to him alone.”

That did sound official. Tony stepped back so that Croyden could enter. He pointed to the couch in the living room and said, “I’ll get him.”

As he went slowly up the stairs, still favoring his left leg, Tony dreaded what was going to happen. Croyden was carrying a briefcase. He could guess what was inside. He pictured Croyden whipping the panties out of the case and saying, “Where did you get these?”

Croyden hadn’t had time to perform any tests on the panties. But what could he test for? If there wasn’t any blood on them, how could a test connect them with Joy? Tony reached the top of the stairs and looked at Josh’s closed door. He was a grumpy riser. And being faced with the prospect of talking to the police would make his mood that much fouler.

Tony decided to go to his athletic club and work out, something he hadn’t done since his knee injury. Get good and sweaty. And not return for a while. He gritted his teeth and knocked on the door.

In fact, Tony didn’t return home until late that afternoon. After he finished his workout he went to his office to catch up on paperwork. He sometimes did that on weekends when there was nobody around to disturb him. It was peaceful, and he was very productive. He found that he really liked this job, and he wanted to do well at it. He was sure that what he did helped people. Just as the Hotline helped people.

Toward the end of the afternoon, he remembered that he had been going to tell the Los Angeles Police Department about the church scam. It would be a long drive to a police station near the church. And then back. And Croyden had been pessimistic about how much good it would do. He decided to skip it.

He hadn’t thought about Josh and Detective Croyden for several hours when he turned into the car park of his townhouse development. He had driven the Porsche for the first time in several days, and it felt good to be behind the wheel of the responsive car, even if he had to be careful shifting because his left knee was still sore.

As he drove down the row of carports, he saw that his was filled with large cardboard boxes. What the hell was going on? He saw Josh’s SUV, which had been backed into the adjoining carport, and then he saw Josh, methodically loading the boxes into it.

Tony stopped the Porsche outside the carport and got out, not bothering to close the door. He limped over to Josh, who had not ceased work, and said, “What are you doing?”

Josh placed a box carefully into his car before he replied. He looked at Tony and said, “Remember, I told you that I’d move out within thirty days? I’m well within that time period, I believe.”

“I didn’t think…I didn’t think…” He didn’t think what? “I didn’t think you’d really do it.”

Josh looked very cool. He said, “An agreement is an agreement. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do, although I’m almost finished. This is the last load. Then I’ll be out of your hair for good.” He picked up another box and shoved it into the car.

“Where are you going?”

“What do you care? I’m going; that should be all that matters to you.”

“It was Detective Croyden, wasn’t it? What did he tell you?”

“He didn’t have to tell me anything. When he showed me the panties that were a souvenir of my first affair in college, I knew the whole story. I knew that my buddy had double-crossed me. I knew he was trying to set me up-for what reason I don’t know. But it’s definitely time to make a break with the past. So sayonara, Noodles. It’s been fun.”

“But I didn’t remember the panties. I’m not trying to set you up. You know that.” Tony sputtered, not knowing what to say.

“After all we’ve been through together, you don’t trust your roommate. That’s what hurts the most.”

Josh shoved the last box into the back of the SUV and slammed the door down. He walked around to the driver’s side, pushing Tony out of the way when he tried to stop him. He climbed in, slammed that door, started the engine and pulled forward out of the carport. He took a left turn, then another, and disappeared around the row of townhouses.

Tony had just finished looking into Josh’s room and verifying that everything “Josh” was indeed gone when the phone rang. It was Rasa, Shahla’s mother. She was speaking rapidly and Tony had trouble understanding her.

“Could you repeat that?” he asked.

“It’s Shahla. She has disappeared.”