Chapter 4
Chapter
Officer Katherine Santos was a mid-twenties, six-foot blonde with stooped posture.
Maybe a tall person’s habit, maybe the stress of a first homicide scene.
Freckled and sturdy, she had a strong jaw but a weak mouth.
Officer Stephen Meade was ten years older, thin with a black buzz cut and small dark eyes that flitted around like houseflies.
The two of them had sprung out of their cruiser before we got there.
Milo introduced himself and me, avoiding the doctor bit and keeping my presence ambiguous. Neither uniform seemed curious about that. Or anything else. Both looked drained and grim.
He said, “Quite a thing to discover, guys.”
Meade said, “Last thing I expected, sir. Kathy’s first but she’s the one who thought smart and opened the freezer.”
Santos shrugged, nodded.
Milo said, “Good work, Officer.”
She blew out air. “I almost didn’t. But then I figured it was there, let’s check.” She lowered a hand to her abdomen and let it sit there. “Last thing I expected. There she was. Right on top. I couldn’t believe it. I mean…”
Meade said, “Like out of a movie.”
Santos said, “Not the kind I watch.”
Milo said, “Your intuition was good, Officer.”
“You say so,” said Santos. “Sir.”
Meade said, “I’m figuring you could probably go years and never see that.” Looking to Milo for confirmation.
“You’re figuring right, Officer Meade. So. Where does the neighbor who called in the welfare check live?”
Meade pointed south. “Four houses down, the white one with the brown roof. Mrs…. um…” Snapping a finger to no avail.
Santos said, “Winslow. Genevieve Winslow.”
Meade looked up at her. No resentment at being out-remembered. More like grateful for the save.
Milo said, “We’ll be heading over there. Everyone else on the block needs to be canvassed. If that’s not productive, extend it…what do you think, Detective Bogomil, a block in either direction?”
Alicia said, “Good start. We can always go farther. Especially if someone out there has security footage.”
Milo turned back to the uniforms. “You guys are in charge of organizing the canvass.”
“Us?” said Meade.
“Any reason why not, Officer?”
Meade stood up taller. “No, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Me, too, sir,” said Santos. “Thanking you, I mean. We’re on it, sir.”
They stood there for an uneasy moment then she saluted and walked ahead of Meade to the adjoining cruiser. By the time she was addressing a pair of phone-wielding comrades, Kathy Santos’s back had straightened and her mouth had transformed.
Strong as her chin.
—
Genevieve Winslow was sixtyish with lilac-shadowed eyes, magenta lipstick, and hennaed hair streaming from beneath a wildly patterned green-and-chartreuse silk scarf.
Her dress was loose, long, a print of wildly patterned red-and-blue silk, her footwear acid-green plastic sandals.
Half a dozen bangles clinked on each arm.
Her fingernails were polished pearlescent gray, the thumbs augmented with glitter.
Black toenails showed themselves in the open toes of the sandals.
Like tiny little mussels perched on pale rocks.
Despite all that flamboyance, her house was thinly furnished in tones of beige, gray, and white. Bare walls, functional seating, bright lighting.
Wanting to showcase herself?
She said, “Hi, ready for you!” and ushered us to a coffee table set up with salted nuts, crackers, and bottled water.
Before any of us could sit, she said, “Anything you want to ask is fine. I’m an open book.”
Alicia said, “We appreciate your initiating the welfare check on Ms. Matthias.”
“Just being a concerned citizen.”
“You were concerned about Ms. Matthias.”
“Is that her name? I just knew her as the strange old lady who lived down the block.”
“Strange how, ma’am?”
“Ma’am, eh?” said Genevieve Winslow. “Like in one of those western movies? Or Dragnet—I met Jack Webb once. When I was waitressing at the Brown Derby. He was wearing that tie and flirted with me.”
We smiled.
Alicia said, “Ms. Matthias was strange…”
“She never talked to anyone, I call that strange. Most you could get out of her was when you passed by and tried to be friendly and said hi, she’d look down at the ground and give this kind of grunt.”
She demonstrated, producing a wet sound from deep in her throat. “Small little thing but she could sure grunt.”
I glanced at Milo. Stone-faced.
Alicia said, “So you knew her from seeing her on the block.”
“Not often,” said Genevieve Winslow. “I like to get my steps in every day. I’d go past her house and usually there’d be nothing but sometimes she’d be taking out the garbage.
Or unloading groceries from her car. The mail, too, she’d be out there picking it up like clockwork.
That’s why when I saw it on the stoop I wondered if something was off.
You hear about it all the time. Elderlies falling and no one’s there to help them. ”
Alicia said, “Thanks. So you saw the mail and…”
“And nothing, Detective, end of story. And by the way I think it’s great they’ve got women doing the job. We have a lot to offer by way of sensitivity and deep perception.”
Alicia smiled. “The mail made you wonder…”
“Obviously,” said Genevieve Winslow. “It was unusual. Unusual makes me wonder. I knocked on her door, nothing, rang her bell, nothing, looked in a window, nothing—she’s got these opaque drapes, you can’t see inside.
So I called 911 and they told me it wasn’t an emergency, next time try the non-emergency number but they’d put it through anyway.
I thought that was rude, here I’m trying to help and I’m getting corrected. ”
Alicia said, “Sorry for that. And again, thanks for calling.”
“So she’s not okay,” said Genevieve Winslow. “All those police cars and now detectives.”
“Unfortunately not, Ms. Winslow.”
“She’s totally gone?”
Alicia looked at Milo.
He said, “Afraid so. Have you ever seen anyone visiting Ms. Matthias?”
“Never. Not once.”
“Any deliveries?”
“Never. Not once. This day and age, you want to reduce your footprint so you cut back on your driving and use Grubhub and also the stores deliver. I get everything delivered so I can concentrate on my work.”
Her eyes begged for a question.
Milo said, “What work is that?”
“Used to act. Now I write. Memoir-based fiction.”
“Ah.”
“Finishing up my latest, going the self-publish route again.”
“Good luck.”
She waved that away. “One makes one’s own luck.”
He smiled. “So Ms. Matthias didn’t take deliveries.”
“Not that I saw. Always the car, unloading her groceries and grunting if you said hello.”
Milo said, “Any idea where she got her groceries?”
“Sure do, saw the bags, not a supermarket,” said Genevieve Winslow. “That discount place—Stark and Miner on Pico. I tried them once but the quality wasn’t up to standards.”
She stuck out her tongue. “You can penny-pinch on other things but food should be quality. I guess she didn’t care. Which fits the way she kept her house, right?”
“You’ve been inside the house?”
“No, no, of course not, the outside. Dried-out lawn, no flowers. That roof of hers coming off in pieces? Not that I want to speak ill of the…deceased but obviously her standards were low. Did she harm herself or was she…you know.”
Alicia said, “We really can’t get into details.”
Genevieve Winslow smirked. “There’s my answer. Well that’s just terrible. Right here on the block. Horrible. Should I be frightened?”
“It’s always good to be careful but there’s no reason—”
“I have an alarm and stout dead bolts and perfectly legal pepper spray in several locations. Have a dog, too, but he’s at the vet and only weighs nine pounds. But he can produce a growl. Not for nothing, he’s not stupid. But when he’s motivated he can growl.”
She smiled with pride. Then she blinked. “Kind of like her, now that I think about it. Small body, big voice.”
Alicia said, “Sounds like you’ve taken plenty of precautions.”
“If I’m not on my side,” said Genevieve Winslow, “who will be?”
Alicia glanced at Milo.
He punted to me.
Informational relay race.
I said, “Has your dog growled recently?”
“He did four nights ago.” Lilac lids fluttered. “Oh. See what you mean. So maybe…forget it, I know you’re not going to tell me anything.” She hugged herself. “This is creepy.”
I said, “What time four nights ago?”
“Late. I’d fallen asleep out here with my laptop and Balthazar woke me with his barking and his growling. He was up by the front window, pawing the sill. I got up and checked but there was nothing out there. Wow. Now I am frightened.”
Alicia said, “Is that unusual behavior for Balthazar?”
“You bet. We’re usually back in the bedroom sleeping and he never makes a peep. I was out here because I’d been wrestling with a tough chapter and dozed off.”
“Nothing sets Balthazar off when you’re in the bedroom.”
“Such as?”
“An animal.”
“No, no, never,” said Genevieve Winslow. “Balthy is totally animal-friendly. Even squirrels. He’d lick one to death, it’s just people he doesn’t like. Wow. This is alarming.”
“No reason to be alarmed,” said Alicia.
“Easy for you to say.”
I said, “Sounds like Balthy was a great sentry. Great addition to all your other precautions.”
“Well, yes. I guess. But I’m going to install cameras. Been thinking about it, now I’ve made the decision. If it’s not too expensive. You recommend that, right?”
“Can’t hurt,” said Milo. “So your dealings with Ms. Matthias were casual.”
“Not even that,” she said. “More like random. But I don’t like to see anyone in any sort of peril so I called you people. Apparently at the wrong number.”
Alicia said, “And again, thanks for that.”
“No thanks required,” said Genevieve Winslow without a trace of sincerity. “Virtue is its own reward. A famous Roman said that. Cicero. As in Open Cicero.”