Chapter 16 – The list

At the cursory glance which was all I had the opportunity to make I could see that there were no marks upon the dead woman’s face or arms and no sign of a struggle anywhere. She looked as peaceful as if she had indeed died naturally in her sleep, but there was no way anyone could be sure.

“How sad!” I exclaimed, and I meant it. In the brief interview I’d had with Flora her forthright personality had made a strong impression upon me. We would never continue that conversation now.

After a respectful pause, “I guess there will have to be an autopsy” I remarked to Marigold, “It’s been so sudden.”

“Surely not!” The sister visibly cringed at the mere thought. “Her state of health has been quite poor for some time.”

“It’s a bit of an ordeal, I know” I persisted “but these things have to be done.”

I tried to sound as if the matter was cut and dried but was far from assured that the procedure would take place. For now, though, the woman seemed quite accepting of its necessity. That this person should die so soon after I’d made contact with her seemed suspiciously coincidental to me, and even more so that her death occurred on the same night as an attempted break-in at the home. Though an autopsy would take some time, until one had taken place, foul play could not be ruled out.

It was well after lunch when I got back to the office, to find that Guy was not there. I assumed that he was out somewhere following up his own investigation. A note on the desk told me that before leaving he had made further progress on the decrypted list of names. The sheet of paper that was attached to it was annotated with the results of his research. It made an interesting perusal.

Against the first name he had written the words ‘district judge’ and added the place where the man served in that capacity. The second name had nothing against it. He must have drawn a blank on that one. The third was more interesting. It belonged to a member of the state governor’s staff. Next was a head-teacher and lower down the list were an attorney at law, a presbyterian minister and a gynaecologist. These findings were no doubt highly significant, but I couldn’t see what they had to do with Gloria.

It was late in the day before Guy finally put in an appearance. He looked tired and out of spirits which made me guess that his new case was not going well. My heart went out to the man in a gush of emotion. His evident vulnerability triggered another of those wild impulses, making me want to throw my arms around and comfort him. The intensity of the feeling took me by surprise. What was wrong with me, for heaven’s sake?
I managed to resist the urge with what I thought was creditable self-command.

It was easy to attribute the blame to the cocktail of feminine hormones I had resumed taking each day. As a second best, I made my principal a cup of coffee, then sat and listened attentively while he enumerated the difficulties which were currently perplexing him. Having him depend on me instead of it being the other way around was a reversal of our roles. The realisation of the deepening of our relationship subjected me to another sudden flood of warmth which made me tingle from head to toe. Help!

Fortunately, Guy appeared to be oblivious of the conflict which was taking place in my emotions. Striving to regain a hold over my feelings, I gave him all the encouragement I could. “I’m sure you will make a breakthrough before long. It’s early days. Is there anything I can do to help?”

But now that he had unburdened himself, the ex-government man seemed to recover some of his natural ebullience rapidly. “Thanks, but you’re good. Don’t trouble yourself about it” he grinned confidently. “Tell me! How did you get on when you interviewed the cook?”

“I didn’t!” At last, the opportunity had arrived for me to fill him in regarding Flora’s untimely demise and breathlessly I recounted what I’d witnessed. I went on to tell of the break-in at the home which had occurred that same night.

Unsurprisingly Guy’s view was the same as my own in that the coincidence was suspicious. “I absolutely agree with you. There has to be an autopsy, and we will have to wait for its results before matters become any clearer. I’ll give a nudge to the authorities to make sure one takes place, but it’s likely to take several weeks. In the meantime, we will work on the assumption that the old lady did not die naturally. That poses a question… why was she killed?”

“To silence her?” I hazarded. “She must have known something. Could it be because of the inquiries I was making?”

“It’s a plausible hypothesis. It might account for your own intruder too. It makes me suspect that either the girl at the riding centre or the reclusive woman at the ranch could be involved, directly or indirectly.”

“Or possibly both of them” I put in, wishing to make some kind of contribution.

“Right!” my mentor agreed. “Has Flora come up in a conversation you’ve had with anyone else?”

I shook my head. “Only Millie, but it was she who mentioned her name to me in the first place. Oh, and so did Gloria, of course.”
That recollection increased my confidence that my client might be innocent of any wrong doing. She would hardly have brought the cook to my attention if she were afraid of what the old woman could divulge.

There were so many unanswered questions that it was hard to know where to start. I observed that my companion was deep in thought and looked hopefully to him for enlightenment. When he spoke however, the result of his deliberations proved inconclusive.

“It’s all a matter of conjecture, although I feel pretty sure my guess about the blackmail angle could be right” declared Guy. “These names on the list are individuals who would have had a lot to lose if they were caught out in some kind of misdemeanour, but what kind of misdeed remains open to question. It must be something pretty serious to warrant Ray’s murder, if I’m right about blackmail being the reason for his killing.”

I didn’t disagree and I was able to add something. “I think this may be significant. See!” I pointed. “Here at the foot of the page is written in clear ‘Auros K’. If it’s someone’s name, then it’s a really unusual one, and somehow, it seems familiar.” The appellation had rung a distant bell in my memory. Though I racked my brains, I couldn’t think where I’d heard it. My interruption drew a blank with Guy who shook his head.

“No dice! It may be worth pursuing” he admitted, circling the writing in pencil. “Try and remember where you have come across it, will you?” He got up to go. “Phew. I’m beat! It’s an early night for me, I think. We’ll pick this up in the morning. Be seeing you.”

I was half-way back to my apartment when memory stirred. Some gossip about the nightclub where I’d been working came to mind. Some years before it had been subjected to a take-over bid by a pair of brothers of dubious reputation. They were rumoured to have wanted to acquire the place as a means of muscling their way into the town. In the event, the attempted buy-out had fallen through, but what stuck out in my memory was that their given names had been really unusual, Midas and Auros. Then I remembered that their surname was uncommon too, Klondyke. Surely Auros K had to be one and the same person.

I heaved a sigh. The discovery of the connection between Ray Price and the shady would-be owners of my former workplace made my puzzle no clearer. I would have to wait until morning to see what my boss made of the link. He would hopefully be able to deduce some significance from these recollections of mine.

Before he left the office my boss had repeated his concerns about the risks I was running by continuing alone in my apartment and had pressed me either to sleep at his place or to let him stay over. I’d thanked him but had dismissed both suggestions as unnecessary. Now however, I had to confess to feeling a little jittery as I climbed the stairs to the landing. As it happened there was no-one about. Having made doubly sure that my outer door was locked and bolted, I endeavoured to put my fears out of my mind. I woke in the night a couple of times and lay still for a while, listening, until sleep overtook me again, but each time I heard nothing to alarm me.

When I arrived at work the following morning, I found that Guy had already been and gone. A note told me that he wouldn’t return till the following day. That was frustrating because I wanted to get his take on what I had remembered. Moodily I resigned myself to the fact that if I was to make headway, I would have to undertake the research by myself. Moreover, I told myself, if I had any serious aspirations to be a successful investigator then legwork of this kind would be inevitable. The office boasted a good selection of reference books and directories and I scanned the shelves eagerly. I pulled down a number of volumes and started leafing through them.

It was mid-morning before I found what I was looking for. There in bold type the name one of the brothers leapt from the page. Admittedly it was the wrong one, Midas Klondyke, that I had come across, not the sought-for Auros, but the discovery was a start. The man was listed as the owner of a nightclub in a town not too far from here. The place was called The Golden Touch, rather obviously in view of the man’s legendary namesake, and though it was located in the next state, the distance was not more than an hour’s drive. I absolutely had to check the place out and resolved to pay a visit that same evening. That, however, left me faced with an urgent problem, deciding what I would wear!

While I was working at the bar, I had acquired a number of eye-catching evening dresses, sourced from the local Goodwill stores which often had quite exotic creations on sale for just a few dollars. Some of these frocks had fitted well as purchased, others needed a few alterations, but my mother’s insistence that I had learnt to sew had stood me in good stead and I now had quite a dazzling collection. My range of ‘work-wear’ definitely had gone down well with the clientele and had promoted some generous tips.

From what I could find out, the Golden Touch aspired to be an up-market night spot, so it would be better to be over-dressed than under-dressed, I reckoned. In the past it had been a lot of fun to dress myself up, but my present existence provided no opportunities to do so. I now had the perfect excuse to glam myself up without restraint. My rationale was that if I had to live my life as a woman, then I ought to take every opportunity for pleasure as I could. Here was just such an opportunity. I could have a ball!

Eagerly I ran my hand along the rail of clothes in my closet. It didn’t take long to select a cocktail length dress in a hot pink. As I remembered, it clung to my curves closer than a second skin tending to reveal what it purported to hide. Perfect!

I brushed out my hair and sat at my vanity to work on the look I wanted. It would be best not to hold back with my make up. In the preceding months I had invested in a range of cosmetics which were not lacking in any direction and planned to take full advantage of the early experience I'd gained working in a beauty salon.

To begin with I moisturised generously. My complexion was neither worse nor better than any woman in her mid-twenties might expect to have and there were no obvious blemishes, but a selective application of concealer followed by a pore filler helped address one or two little areas I felt dissatisfied with. Then I brushed on a clear liquid primer to lessen some tiny wrinkles and that was followed by a colour-correcting primer overall. A neutral powder foundation came next, a subtle touch of blusher on the apple of my cheeks and I was nearly there. Finally, I dusted on a light mineral veil to restore some youthful freshness to my skin.

I resisted the temptation to apply overly dramatic eyeshadow. The sexy but elegant image I was aiming for would not benefit by bearing any resemblance to a painted lady. The eyes are the windows of the soul, or so I had been taught. Instead, I employed a progressive combination of shades to hopefully create an air of mystery.

I took especial care eye-lining my upper lids, ending with an upwards outward flick mirrored by a similar grace note on the lower. A steady hand was needed. The effect I was seeking was to make my eyes appear larger and I was pleased with the result. False lashes might detract from the subtly chic effect I wanted so instead I used curling tongs with lash-lengthening mascara. The effect was more natural and, in my opinion, just as striking. It only remained for me to colour my lips and nails to complement the hue of my dress, and I was ready for anything!

My painstaking preparations did have one drawback. They meant I was now running later than intended. I found it impossible to make up much time though I drove fast along the freeway. When quite near to the town I was heading for, I stopped to fill up at a gas station and asked directions. The pump attendant gave me plenty of appreciative glances and made no secret that he liked what he saw! While being subjected to such an intense scrutiny felt uncomfortable. it was a boost for my confidence and signalled that those hours in front of my vanity had been well spent.

The guy who polished my windshield was also very thorough in completing his task and engaged me in conversation assiduously. Fortunately, little evening jacket I had put on over my frock provided a degree of modesty, but I began to think I would never get away.

His parting words were salutary. “Have yourself a good evening, little lady, but don’t you go losing your dough at the tables they got in that back room. Only time I ever went in there, I got skinned alive!”

I thanked him for the caution and drove smartly away, glad to wave them goodbye and pursue the adventure that beckoned!