“So you were here alone when you found the body.”
“I was. I usually am, Lieutenant.”
Milo looked back at the house.
“I know,” said Enid DePauw. “It’s far too much for me now that my husband is gone. But I’ve never had any problems. And the same appeared to be true tonight. The alarm was still set when I walked into the house, nothing at all amiss. I did the usual things. Going through the mail, taking a bath — desert grit can be adhesive. What next... hmm... oh, yes, I fixed myself a nightcap and relaxed in the library. My husband’s favorite room. The funny thing is when he was alive, I never spent much time in there, but now... life turns out funny, no?”
A glimpse at the corpse caused rouged lips to quiver. “Poor thing. Is she one of those homeless people? She doesn’t have a purse. Though I didn’t see any shopping carts like they usually have. Is it out on the road?”
“No, ma’am. What happened next?”
“Sorry, I’m prattling. What happened... I finished my cocktail and thought I’d watch a bit of TV after taking a little stroll in the garden. I find garden strolls relaxing. If you’re going to ask me what time it was, I don’t know precisely, but I can tell you that immediately after... finding her, I hurried back into the house and dialed 911, so that should inform you.”
“Your call came in shortly after ten, ma’am.”
“There you go.” Another sidelong peek. “Very few teeth in her mouth. She looks as if she’s led a hard life. What do you think happened to her?”
“We don’t know yet, Mrs. DePauw.”
“Those types can hurt themselves, no? But I didn’t see any wounds. Then again, I didn’t spend much time looking, just hurried inside and reset the alarm and called you people.”
A hand settled on her left breast. Floated away, fingers bending and straightening rapidly, as if attacking a piano étude. A noise brought our attention to the body. A tech scraping brick. Another stood nearby entering data on a handheld.
Enid DePauw said, “To end up this way, she’d need to be... out of sorts? Mentally, I mean.”
Milo looked at me.
I said, “That’s a reasonable assumption.”
“Terrible when that happens,” said Enid DePauw. “People like that should be cared for, not left to wander the streets.”
I said, “Have you noticed other homeless people in the neighborhood?”
“Just one, a man, a black man, pushing one of those supermarket carts piled high with who-knows-what. I notified Bel Air Patrol but by the time they got here, he was gone.”
Milo said, “How long ago did that happen, Mrs. DePauw?”
“Three years? Four? I can’t be sure. That experience was unsettling. As I drove by, he gave me a look. Which is why I called the patrol. But I haven’t seen him since. It really is quite wonderful here.”
She frowned. “How long do you people need to be here?”
“We’ll be as quick as possible, ma’am, but it could take a while.”
“Then I suppose I should go inside and let you go about your business.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She swiveled away, took another look at the body. “Life can be so unfair.”
Ascending to the top tier, she reached a bank of French doors that served as the house’s rear wall, paused to survey the scene, waved at us, and went inside.
Milo said, “Sorry it came to this, Alex.”
I said, “Do you have any idea about cause of death?”
“No bullet holes or lacerations, no bump on the head from a fall or a blow, no obvious strangulation. At this point, the working assumption is natural causes. Whatever that means for someone like Zelda.”
“She used heroin. Could be an overdose.”
“Or her heart just gave out due to bad living.”
“The look on her face,” I said. “She didn’t die peacefully.”
“Gloria said the same thing, she’s wondering about a seizure.” He placed a big hand on my shoulder. “There’s no reason for you to stick around.”
“Looks to me as if she hasn’t been dead long.”
“Gloria’s guess is within six hours but we’ll wait until the pathologist weighs in. Coulda been even uglier for ol’ Enid if she got home earlier. She’s come out for her stroll, Martini in hand, witnesses it actually happening and has a stroke or something and we’ve got two bodies. Imagine trying to make sense of that scene.”
Gloria began packing up. Milo and I walked over to her.
“Anything new, G?”
“A few specks of what looks like vomitus over there.” Pointing to a small staked area a few feet behind the body, just below the steps from the top tier. “Like she was walking and started to get sick and just collapsed.”
The tech with the handheld jogged over. “If you don’t need the body, Lieutenant, I’m ready to authorize transport.”
“Go ahead.”
Gloria said, “Good night, Milo. You probably won’t have much to do on this one.”
“Your mouth to some deity’s ears.”
She left. The techs began boxing their equipment and dismantling the lights.
The scene suddenly quiet. That made it worse.
I went home.
Chapter 15
Robin woke up when I slipped into bed. I kissed her forehead and made sure not to move too much. Next morning I told her about Zelda and she listened and asked if there was anything I needed. When I’d convinced her there wasn’t, she went to her studio and I resolved to concentrate on people I could actually help.
That faltered when my service phoned a little after two p.m.
“Stevenson Beal returned your call,” said the operator. “He used to be an actor on a show, I forget its name but I remember his.”
“SubUrban.”
“That’s the one. He said he’s in real estate now.”
“Sounds like you two had a nice chat.”
“Um... Doctor, I don’t want you to think I get too friendly with your patients. He’s kind of talkative, I figured I shouldn’t cut him off.”
“You figured right. Were you a fan of the show?”
“Not really. I watched it at the beginning but then it got stupid. That’s what always happens, right? They run out of stories.”
“Steve Beal, how can I help you?”
Booming baritone. No hint of the effeminate stereotype he’d played for two and a half years.
I told him about Zelda’s death.
He said, “Shit. Poor Zelda... shit. I was thinking you were interested in one of my listings but this is way way more important. Did she kill herself?”
“When you knew her, was she suicidal?”
“Not like openly trying to hurt herself, but if she did do it, I wouldn’t be shocked. Your service said you’re a shrink. Weren’t her issues obvious?”
His voice lowered. “In fact, why’re you calling me?”
“I was her son’s therapist and I’m trying to locate him, to make sure he’s okay. I haven’t found any relatives so I’m trying people she worked with.”
“You figured we’d know because we were her surrogate family?” said Beal. “Yeah, that’s always the official story, we bond. But let me take a wild guess: No one besides me called you back.”
“Not so far.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Doctor.”
“Any idea what Zelda did after the show was canceled?”
“I’m sure she brooded and got depressed like the rest of us. Though I guess for her it would’ve been a helluva lot worse. Because of her issues — listen, Doc, I’ve got a showing out in Tarzana, need to book. But if you want to get together later today and chat about Zelda, why not? It’ll allow me to flash back to my ahem days of stardom.”