Theo’s watch told him there was two minutes until the auction would start. He wished he had bought a hat, so he could close his eyes until the paintings arrived. Suddenly, someone picked up his booklet on the seat beside him and sat down. He turned to say the seat was taken but then he recognized who it was.
“Ms. Evans,” he said, leaning away from her.
She wore a short velvet green dress and black pumps.
“Detective, I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“You didn’t expect me? You were the last person I expected. Are you here for the Tipring art?”
“Thought I might see what they go for. I haven’t been able to get them out of my mind, did you know that? I mean, they really are the most hideous things but they really speak to me. Sounds ridiculous, I know. Perhaps it’s the mathematician in me, but the orderliness of the tiles . . .” She laughed. “Well, that’s why I’m here. Why are you here?”
Theo was about to answer but right on time, the auction started. Lot after lot of various art and household furnishings appeared, were bid on, and then taken away. Sophia followed along carefully in her book as each item passed. On occasion she would nod and state what a good deal it was or shake her head and complained the bidder paid too much.
“You can tell who has been to auctions before and who has not,” she leaned over and whispered into his ear.
“Have you been to many?”
“My father used to drag me to them as a child but as I grew, I started bidding and the excitement of the chase got me hooked. On occasion, and don’t tell anyone, not that you would and who would care, I would bid up an item for fun.” She covered her wide-open mouth and then smiled at him. “Have you been to many?”
“I once bought a car from an auction. Art? No. Couldn’t afford that.”
The lamp came up and the lady on the other side started bidding. Sophia raised her number twice before not bidding anymore.
“You want that lamp?”
“No. It’s wouldn’t match a thing in my flat.”
“Then why did you bid on it?”
“I don’t like the look that old woman keeps giving us. Now she has to pay more.”
“That’s terribly mean.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. Perhaps she will get me back by bidding on the Tipring paintings. Though, I can’t think of anyone here wanting those. Has any of his family or friends arrived?”
Theo hadn’t searched the room since Sophia had arrived. She had the ability to mesmerize him. He went up and down the rows with his eyes.
“Yes, there’s the nurse,” he said, motioning with his eyes.
“Oh, perhaps she wants some of his work. I hope she doesn’t try to buy them all. I know I can outbid her but I wouldn’t want to take all of it away from her.”
“Let her bid on some.”
“Good idea.” She flipped a page in her booklet. “Is she upset that you didn’t solve his murder?”
“I haven’t spoken to her in a long time. I feel bad that all the leads went cold.”
“Is that why you’re here, hoping to uncover something?”
He stared at her in wonderment. “Maybe.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, not all cases get solved. You’re still the detective I like most.”
“How are things with you? Did you ever crack Tipring’s uncle’s coded shorthand?”
“I did actually, but the pages were filled with vague notes. Lots of numbers. I tried to trace them but couldn’t find anything. The word blocks was underlined but again it meant nothing. Some odd verses. I really couldn’t make heads or tails of it and because he’s dead I can’t ask him about it. Sorry. I hoped it could help your case. What are you working on now?”
“Nothing that would interest you. I’m currently investigating the death of a woman—stabbed in her flat. We’re hoping to find the killer among the CCTV footage.”
“Another stabbing. Just like Doc, is it? Maybe they have the same killer.”
He smiled. “Highly unlikely.”
The Tipring art came up for bid and Sophia waited until she was assured the nurse didn’t intend to bid on the first lot. She didn’t have to worry—no one bid at all. The first lot went to Sophia and so did the second, third, and fourth. She bought all of them. The nurse turned to look at her. She was beaming.
“What the hell am I going to do with all that tile?” she asked him, grabbing his arm. “I’m going to have to store it in my other flat for now.”
After two more lots, the auction was over. Sophia went over to her purchase and ran her fingers over the top of the tiles. Theo followed behind.
The nurse came over.
“I just want to thank you,” she said to Sophia. “I didn’t think anyone would buy it and yet here you went and bought it all. Thank you. It would have meant a lot to him. He cherished each one of those.” She reached out and touched one of the pieces of art. “I was never allowed to touch them. Not even to dust. He was odd that way.” She looked at Sophia. “I’m glad you recognized his talent.”
Without another word, she walked away, clutching her handbag tightly under her arm.
“Who receives the money?” Sophia asked him.
“The proceeds go to charity—animals or something like that. Perhaps cancer research.”
She laughed. “Those two things are not related at all. I won’t be able to take these home with me tonight. I suppose I best sort out the payment and transport of my precious new artwork. I am surprised none of his family came. Did they even attend the funeral?”
“They were not a close family. It’s sad really.”
Theo had asked her for coffee but she refused. He wanted to ask her for a reason but she had turned to go before he could.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Theo sighed and pushed open the door to the autopsy room. The dead looked so foreign in the cold, sterile room.
“Tell me what you know, doc,” he asked as he entered the room.
“Cause of death was stabbing. The knife penetrated the heart. The good news is, I don’t think she suffered. The killer caught her unawares and . . .” He made a stabbing motion with his hand. “Reminds me a lot of the last stabbing case you had.”
Theo leaned forward. “You’re the second person who mentioned the connection.”
“Do you think there is a connection?”
“No, unlikely,” he said.
“I would have to check my notes, and although they appear to be similar, they are different. If you like, after the autopsy we can compare the case notes on both victims,” Dr. Waynton said.
After the autopsy was over, he led Theo into his office.
“Have a seat,” he said and motioned Theo toward a chair. He went over to a filing cabinet and quickly retrieved a file. “Here we are, Maddock Tipring.”
With both files opened side by side on his desk, he ran his fingers down each page.
“According to forensics and the knife wound measurement, the knives were different. The one that stabbed Doc was a standard flat edge kitchen knife while the other, while still a kitchen knife, had a serrated edge. Both wounds were not deep but they both hit the mark. Based on the angle of each of the wounds, one killer was taller than the other but not more than ten centimeters. No, it is my opinion that the two victims were killed by two different killers.”
“All right,” Theo replied.
“I’m sorry, detective,” he continued. “I would like to tell you that they had the same killer, then perhaps you can solve two cases but, no. I’m sorry.”
“Is there anything you can give me, anything to help me find Sharon’s killer?”
“Based on height and force behind the thrust, I would say you’re looking for a woman rather than a man. Now, that’s just a guess.”
“Really? A woman?”