Murder at the Art Gallery Page 7

“It my pleasure”

  Margot remembered the client list I had come by to pick up.

  “Mandy, this is all I was able to find, it looks like invoices and other papers. Hopefully, it’s what you were looking for”

  “Well, I won’t know till I actually go through it, but there has to be some contact information for his clients.”

  Nancy came back and turned back to Margot. As I sat there, I felt that I was intruding upon family time, I figured it would be best if I left. I would have time with Margot when I helped her clean David’s apartment.

  “Margot, I’m going to be heading back now. Thanks for the client list,

  With client list in hand, I left, hoping it would be more than a client list. I wanted to look at this to see if there wasn’t anything fishy in here. Something, anything that would show there was something funny going on.

  I got back to my house, and Roger was waiting for me when I opened the door. I wanted to bring him along for the ride before, but I didn’t know what kind of situation I would encounter over at Margot’s house. Even though I would have loved to have him with me, I was glad I left him home. It would have been awkward.

  Roger already had a favorite toy, a stuffed banana with a little bell that he would hold in his paws and scratch and throw it and catch it. Maybe he liked the sound of the bell, but it was the toy that he paid the most attention to. I’m glad he was feeling at home and he was becoming more and more my cat. He was no longer an animal from the shelter. He was my cat.

  As I watched him play, I still had to notice how big and muscular he was. He must be a mix of something other than tabby cause he was one big tabby. But for the most part he had a sweet face and looked like a grey tabby. Maybe he was a land of the giants kitten and would grow to be 7 feet tall. Somehow, I knew that was something I didn’t have to worry about.

  Even though, I was tired now that I was home, I was looking forward to exploring the client list. I grabbed my phone and my laptop and sat at my desk in the den.

  Roger bounced happily behind me and curled up by my feet the moment I sat down.

  I looked over the various client invoices. It seemed as though David had received deposits for various pictures. Maybe this wasn’t the full client list. In any event, it was a start. Some of the invoices went back several months, one almost a full year. I made a neat pile of the invoices and started to call the numbers.

  The first number I dialed was answered by a man. I felt a bit nervous, and was unsure of what to say. I hadn’t actually thought that far into this. But that was just like me. I jumped head-first into so many situations. Maybe that’s why I had so many jobs.

  “Hello, may I speak to Timothy Landston?” I asked the man at the other end of the line.

  “This is he, call me Tim”

  “Hi, my name is Mandy Cummings. I’m calling because I have an invoice for one of the portraits that you had ordered from David Towsky six months ago, and I was wondering if you would like attend a service for David, since David had recently passed away.”

  There was a long silence on Tim’s end. I was ready to ask if he was still on the line when he finally spoke.

  “What?” Tim said. He sighed, was silent for another moment and then began to talk.

  “Hi Mandy, I’m glad you called. Listen, let me tell you something. I’ve trying to get a hold of this David guy now for six months. Six months ago I ordered a portrait for my daughter that he said was going to be finished in one month. I paid a four hundred dollar deposit with a six hundred dollar balance to be paid when he delivered the picture. I never heard back from him. I would call and call and he never answered. I really thought that I had been swindled. How long was he in the hospital for?”

  “Well, he wasn’t in the hospital he died unexpectedly.”

  Tim huffed, and his voice grew louder so that I had to hold the phone further from my ear. Turning the volume down accomplished nothing.

  “Well, I think I was right in my original assessment of the situation. I was going to cut him some slack because maybe he was sick but now you tell me he died unexpectedly which means that for six months this guy has been stringing me along. He took my four hundred dollars and I never got a picture. I reported him to the better business bureau and nothing ever came of it.”

  At this point, Tim switched from complaining to getting information.

  “How are you related to him?”

  “I’m just a friend. I have no idea of his business dealings. I was calling people at random that I thought he had done business with that might be interested in coming to the service. However, I can see that something happened here where you were not treated well. I will inform the person with power of attorney to look into this. Perhaps you can get a refund. I’m sorry, I’m just organizing the invitations for the service.”

  “Okay look, I won’t chew your head off, but I really want my money back. Obviously this David guy never had the intention of making the portrait of my daughter. Please tell the people that handle this to give me a refund, since I paid a deposit and never got a picture. I never even got my daughter’s picture back.”

  “I will. I’m truly sorry about this situation, hopefully they will find a way to fix this.”

  I hung up.

  That was so strange. David squelched somebody for money? That was so unlike the David that I knew. But let’s face it Mandy, you haven’t dealt on a day to day basis with David in quite some time. Maybe Fred was right; we don’t truly know the people we think we know.

  I was amazed at what this man had said. He was pretty nice about it, all things considered. He could have been nastier.

  I sifted through the remaining invoices- which were all similar. I found twenty total invoices that said David had gotten paid deposits up front- all the same number. Four hundred dollars. And they all had a balance of six hundred to be paid upon delivery. As far as I could tell, none had ever been delivered.

  What had happened to David? This was not the David I knew. The David I knew would never rip people off. But I had proof. Fred had said that there was no evidence of a struggle. No evidence of foul-play. Only David’s prints had been found on the glass. Could it be that David had gotten himself into so much debt that he thought that killing himself was the only answer?

  I had a large file to sort through. I wondered what other secrets might be hiding within.

  With the funeral two days away and the gallery memorial that weekend, there wasn’t much time to delve into it. But I had to figure this out. Did David truly commit suicide and what my gut feeling was telling me is that he committed suicide for a reason, and here’s one of the reasons? David had done something with that money, but what? Was he a drug addict?

  I would have to reach out to Mike, the drug dealer that I went to high school with. Although he wasn’t a drug dealer in high school, that’s what he became and I hadn’t associated with him for a long time, because of his activities. Yet, he was always friendly to me on the street, always said hi. It’s not always good to still be in the minds of people you went to high school with.

  I once did a reading for Mike when he came to some restaurant where I was working. He said he was doing it for fun. I think he liked me and he was trying to get close to me. But my wedding ring put him off, he said, oh I didn’t know you had gotten married. Dumb he was not. But I guess that’s how he survived as a drug dealer.

  Now I wondered if perhaps I could ask him if David might have bought drugs from him. I could find out if David bought the pain killers for himself. And anything else he might have been on. He was taking all this money and not giving people their product. That sounds like he needed money for something. Like a drug habit.

  I was growing upset and disappointed in David. I was beginning to feel as though I had been duped. Here I was going through this whole exercise of trying to preserve and honor David’s memory. But what if David hadn’t lived an honorable life?

  He may have taken his life in order not to face whatever it was that
he had done. Maybe he did something really rotten for no good reason other than selfishness or a drug induced spree. Well, I guess I would just have to keep on digging.

  Maybe someone at the funeral home would know something. Maybe Harold would know something. It’s possible Harold was trying to protect David’s image knowing full well that David had been up to no good. Harold claimed that he cheated on David and that’s why David broke up with him. But what if that wasn’t the truth. What if David was just too far gone and Harold didn’t want to stick around?

  Harold was a good guy and that’s just the sort of thing that he would do. Meanwhile, little naïve me was thinking bad thoughts about Harold because he was cheating on David. Well maybe David had been doing something that Harold wanted no part of. Well, I’m putting Harold on my list of people to talk to as soon as possible.

  I would speak with Harold at the first opportunity.

  In the course of all this, Roger had laid down next to me on the sofa and was resting his head on my thigh. He was purring. Maybe he could sense I was stressed out by all these new discoveries and needed some TLC. I looked at him, sprawled out on the sofa, his great length almost taking over the whole three quarters of the sofa. I’m glad that he was all my own.

  Tomorrow would be another day and I’d grapple with what had been going on in David’s life prior to him dying.

  I got up from the sofa to make myself a cup of tea and Roger followed me into the kitchen. I opened a can of his favorite food and he dug into it like he hadn’t been fed in months, even though it had been a couple of hours. I thought that all cats are were that way. Put some food in front of them and they’d eat as fast as possible in case it tried to disappear.

  Chapter Seven

  I was completely pre-occupied with what I had discovered the night before. All day I had felt as though I was in a fog. The night before I had a dream in which I was back in college and Daniel was alive and we were hanging out. And then David appeared completely strung out and acting a like a druggie. I asked him what happened and he said Mandy, this is me, this is the real me. I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating, Maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me.

  I was imagining the worst, I was so shocked that David was ripping people off, it must have all gotten jumbled up and I went back to happier times but David himself wasn't happy. People usually kill themselves when they're not happy. More and more I thought maybe Fred had been right all along. But still, I had to finish this investigation for myself. I wanted to know what changes David had gone through over the last couple of years to become this David that I didn't know. A David that was ripping people off. Maybe Harold will shed more light into this.

  I also had to find Mike, the drug dealer. I didn't have a number for him so I thought I would drive around town until I found him somewhere. I also didn't know what to expect. I hadn't had communications in years with this guy and who knows if he was dangerous now. Maybe I was getting in over my head and I should just leave this alone, tell Fred of the non delivered portraits and let the police handle it. They would find an answer.

  Still I didn't want Mike to be hassled by the police because I had an idea about something that may be totally off the mark. There was me again, always trying to make nice to everybody. I had been like this in high school and I had been a door mat for so many people cause I was always trying to please everybody and trying be nice when people were just taking advantage of me. And here I was again, hoping that I didn't get somebody in trouble. That it would be my fault. This was a drug dealer were talking about. He'd been nice to me, but had he been so nice to everybody? Who knows?

  The day finally came to an end and I decided I would try to find Mike. I took Roger with me. I didn't want to go alone. After driving around for an hour, I found him parked near the mall, leaning up against his car. Maybe he was waiting for a customer. Maybe he was just hanging out. Whatever it was, this was my chance to talk to this guy.

  I parked my car behind his and got out with Roger. Mike spoke first.

  “Mandy! Don't' tell me that you've come to buy drugs. I am going to be soooo disappointed. If ever there was somebody I thought that was going to be nice for the rest of her life it was you. You're not going down the dark path now are you?”

  He smiled while he spoke, then let out a loud guffaw.

  “I see that you brought your attack cat with you. I heard about the guy in the mall. A lot of creeps have been coming around these parts lately. Good thing you had a cat to help you out of danger. This one sounds like a real champ. How can I help you?”

  “Well Mike, you'll pardon my intruding into your life –”

  “Intruding, you're never intruding Mandy.”

  “Well, I have to ask you a sensitive question. Believe me, this is just between you and me. I just have to find this out for my peace of mind. There are no cops involved, I just can't believe what happened to a friend of mine. It's looking more and more like he was not the person I thought he was and I just need to know if he ever bought drugs from you?”

  “Whoa Mandy, I can't give that kind of information. I have trust with my customers and if I rat them out, well they don't come back, see, it's bad for business, so as much as I like you, I can't tell you stuff like that.”

  “Listen Mike, if it's losing business you're worried about, don't worry, this guy is dead and that's my dilemma. You see, the police say it's suicide and I knew he was allergic to a certain type of drug that is popular, and he died of that drug. I just need you to look at his picture and tell me if he ever bought drugs from you. It's just so I can resolve this in my head. If he did, then I'll accept he did kill himself and that's that.”

  “Well, in that case, if the guy's already dead, but you gotta understand I can't answer much, I'll just see if I know him, let me look.”

  Mike took a look at David's picture.

  “Oh yeah, this guy was a real pothead, he bought a lot of pot from me but that was it. I never heard of anybody dying from pot.”

  “No, it's not pot he died of, he died from an opioid pain killer.”

  “Well, I never sold him that. That's not to say that he didn't buy it from somebody else. I wish I could help you but that's all I know on him.”

  I felt defeated and at the same time, sad to know that David had gone down this route. Maybe all that money was to support a pot habit?

  “Well, thanks Mike, at least it does explain some things about him. I appreciate you sharing that with me. I won't tell a soul.”

  “No problem Mandy, sorry to hear about your friend. I could see that you're disappointed about your friend. Good old Mandy, always the good girl. Some people we don't really know, Mandy. Your friend could have been putting on an act.”

  “I'm beginning to think you're right. One last question Mike, and I understand if you won't tell me. Did anybody else recently buy opioid pain killers from you.”

  Mike looked pensive and said, “I don't know Mandy, I don't know if I could say that. It just puts me in a bind.”

  “Mike you don't have to tell me who they are, just if somebody did.”

  “I don't know Mandy, I get paranoid about questions like that.”

  “It's ok Mike, I understand. Thanks, you've been very helpful, I appreciate it.”

  I walked back to my car with Roger. I was sat in silent contemplation for a couple of seconds. David a pothead. Then, all of a sudden, there was a violent banging on my window. It startled me out of my mood. I looked through my left window, and there was Mike motioning to roll down the window. What now, I thought?

  “Listen Mandy, I'm going to say this, but you never mention this to anybody, ok? Two guys bought the painkillers from me, one regular and another one I've never seen before. That's all I got don't ever ask me any more questions about my clients.”

  “Thank you Mike. I'll never tell a soul.”

  I drove off thinking about what Mike had just said - one a regular customer, another buyer a guy he never dealt with before. Could somebody
have bought the opioid pain killer to kill David? Was this payback for a deal gone sour? It seemed that as far as his art was concerned, David had done a couple of sour deals.

  Whoever it was, it had to be somebody that knew he was allergic to this substance, drugged his water, and left afterwards. David just drank the water, maybe being stoned out of his mind and then had the allergic reaction, couldn't breathe and just died in his bed. But what could have been the motive? This I was going to have to figure out. Maybe there were more clues in that envelope that I got from Margot.

  Whereas before I didn't think that anybody would want to kill David, I was beginning to believe that maybe more than one person had a reason to kill David, even it was over something trivial. He just got involved with somebody nuts enough to kill him for whatever it was. That's all it took these days, one crazy person who had a bad day and decided that the only way to right a wrong is by killing the person who did you wrong.

  But it had to be someone close, someone that knew that David had an allergy to opioid pain killers. Harold was such a person. Could Harold have done it? Maybe David did something terrible to Harold and this was one of those crimes of passion. Had I been living in a fog all these years while the world around me was going crazy?? Maybe I had been so caught in the in the grief of losing my mother, my cat and my husband that I didn't pay too much attention to the rest of the world.

  It was hard to think of my old friends as anything other than the icons I had made them out to be. In my head, they were all just as simple to understand as I was to myself. But I was slowly learning that this was not the case. Some people had changed for the better while others had changed for the worse. And maybe David had been one of those who had taken a turn for the worse.

  I was upset about what I had learned from Mike. I needed to speak to Harold. Harold may not be entirely forthcoming with what he knew too. Maybe he was trying to protect David. Or himself. I pulled into Joanie's Cupcakes and called Harold.

  “Hi Harold I'm at Joanie's you want to meet me here? I'd love to hear about who you might have recommended and who will be coming to the funeral.”