Catch a Falling Knife

sounds like a crime of passion,” Wesley said. “Especially since she was naked.”
    “Which definitely rules out Mark,” I said.
    “In your eyes,” Tess said. “The front window of the apartment was broken. That’s how the killer got in. No fingerprints were found, except those of Elise and her roommate. And no weapon has been found.”
    “Is there a local newspaper published in Bethany?” Wesley asked. “If so, we should subscribe to it. It might give more details about the case than the Raleigh paper.”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “Tess…”
    “I’m writing it down.”
    “That’s a good idea, Wesley, especially since I don’t think we’ll get much information out of Detective Johnson. And I’m not sure we can depend on him to make a thorough investigation. He seems to have his mind set on proving that Mark did it. So…let’s get organized. First we need a list of suspects.”
    “Unfortunately, Mark is at the top of the list,” Tess said, “since we can’t prove he didn’t do it.”
    “Next would be Elise’s father, Eric Hoffman,” I said.
    Tess wrote his name down and said, “Motive?”
    “What if he had found out that she was the Shooting Star? After his crusade to keep men out of the strip clubs, his own daughter was luring them in.”
    “What about her mother?” Wesley asked.
    “I haven’t met her, but we can’t eliminate her yet. Her name is June.”
    “And the roommate,” Wesley said. “She found the body, right?”
    “Donna Somerset. Yes. About eleven o’clock Wednesday evening, she says.”
    “Motive?” Tess asked.
    “I don’t know at this point,” I said. “In addition, it could be somebody from Club Cavalier, I suppose. The owner is a man named Lefty. Then there are the other dancers, although they didn’t seem to have much contact with her. What time is it?”
    “Ten forty-seven and 30 seconds,” Wesley said with the precision of an accountant.
    “Club Cavalier opens around noon,” I said. “I’m going to give them a call.” I suited action to the word.
    A male voice answered the phone, “Club Cavalier.”
    “May I speak to Lefty, please,” I said.
    “Who should I tell him is calling?”
    The voice was low and guttural, and sounded like that of the bouncer/ticket-taker/announcer. “Lillian.”
    “Hang on.”
    I hung on. The “hold” music sounded like traditional stripper music, but not what the girls actually danced to.
    “This is Lefty.”
    This voice had more class than that of the man who had answered the phone.
    “I have a friend who wants to see the Shooting Star,” I said. “Can you tell me if she is dancing tonight?” I had mixed feelings about the answer I wanted to hear. No answer would bring Elise back to life.
    I heard a background conversation at the other end of the line between Lefty and someone else. Then Lefty said into the phone, “I don’t know if she is or not.”
    “When did she last dance there?”
    “Wednesday. She was supposed to dance last night, but she never showed. Stupid broad. I thought she was more reliable than that.”
    “You’re sure she danced Wednesday, though.”
    “Yeah, I’m sure. Who the hell is this, anyway?”
    “I’m…a friend of hers.”
    “A friend? If you’re on the level, I need to talk to you.”
    “I need to talk to you, too. Are you going to be there this afternoon?”
    “Yeah, I’m always here.”
    “All right, I’ll see you about 1:30.”
    When I hung up the phone, Wesley said, “You’re going to Club Cavalier, aren’t you? I’m going with you.”
    “All right.” As a protector, I wasn’t sure Wesley would be much better than Tess, but at least he knew how to read maps and road signs. His fitness regime included working out in our equipment room three or four times a week, lifting weights and walking on the treadmill. He had lost weight and some of the florid color in his face and looked years younger, but I still couldn’t picture him as a threat to the bouncer at Club Cavalier.
    “The Shooting Star danced there Wednesday night,” I said so that Tess would write it down. “What do you think that means?”
    “According to our timetable,” Tess said, “she could have danced as late as ten and still made it home in time to get herself killed.”
     
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    Club Cavalier appeared less exotic in daylight than it did at night. It would have looked like just another restaurant if it had had