Garbo Towers

Chapter 21

Brenda sat sullenly at the table in the interrogation room. After some preliminary questions in the office, the captain directed his detectives to take a more aggressive approach; the case was dragging on too long. Art shuffled his files and settled across from her.

"Would you like a coffee or anything?" She shook her head. "Very well, Miss Carlisle. We brought you down to try and clear up some discrepancies in the statements from you and the other residents. We've spoken to several of the others and what has emerged is a bit of a blank regarding your presence at the time of the murder."

"I was in the garden." Brenda observed him with flat eyes.

"Yes, we know. But at one point, according to my notes, you left the seating to quote, 'get another drink'."

"That's not in my statement."

"No, it's not. It's in the statements of three other people and the quote is from Miss Woznoski."

"Okay, so?"

"So nobody said that they saw you come back."

"I can't help that." Brenda sat back and folded her arms.

"You had a fight with the victim right after he arrived at the party." Art consulted his notes.

"No."

"No?"

"It wasn't a fight, it was an argument."

"Okay, an argument. What was that about?"

"He was being his usual, boorish self."

"In what way?"

Brenda frowned and looked away with a loud sigh. "What difference?"

"In what way did Mr. Spade act boorish?"

Brenda gave him an abridged account of Darlene's run in at work and Wally's reaction to her presence at the party. "When we were alone I told him he deserved a good smack in the mouth for his behaviour. He insulted me, calling me a dyke and a cheap- a cheap slut." She ran her tongue over her lips nervously.

"Why would he call you that?"

"Detective—the title doesn't suit you—it doesn't take a PhD to figure that out."

Art mentally kicked himself and accepted the reprimand with a nod. "Was uh, that all to the fi- argument?"

"He made his usual threats—stay out of his way etcetera. I've heard them all before."

"You had previous confrontations with him?"

"Wally was always on my case. He kept hitting on my friends and when they turned him down, he took it out on me with his dirty comments. He insulted my friends as well." Brenda seemed to relax as she talked out her anger.

"According to the statements we collected, you were last to come into the building after the scream, is that right?"

"I don't remember."

"Well when everyone left the garden were you with them? Were you next to anyone?"

"I don't remember, I said. Maybe Molly, she was the slowest."

Art excused himself and left the room, closing the door. Brenda breathed harshly through her nose and held her fists tightly on the table. She knew the questions were heading in a specific direction and that the detective was circling like a hawk, waiting for the right moment to pounce. She took another deep breath and concentrated on her hands.

"Why were you fighting with Alec Fletcher when we arrived at your apartment?" Art returned and began his question before he finished sitting down. Brenda froze up. Her glare shifted from the detective to the table top. "Did he insult you as well?" She didn't move, barely breathing. "Did it have anything to do with Miss Hayes?"

"How—?"

"Was it because you overheard Mister Fletcher and Miss Hayes in a- a- state of arousal?" He blushed, kicking himself again for sounding so prudish.

Brenda snorted, picking up on his discomfort. "How do you know this?"

"Just answer the question, Miss Carlisle."

"Yes." She leaned closer and mocked his uneasiness.

"So, Miss Hayes seems to have been the subject, if not the cause, of both your argument with Mister Spade and Mister Fletcher."

"What are you driving at?"

"Mister Spade is dead, and Mister Fletcher tells us that you were becoming quite violent with him."

Brenda pushed back from the table and jumped up. "He said that? He's here? Her voice was shrill and the words came spitting out violently. Art eased himself out of his chair watching her carefully. "You're another one, aren't you? Another macho bullshit artist that thinks he's the cock of the walk."

"Take it eas—"

"Screw you! 'Cause you sure aren't screwing me!" Brenda backed into the corner and braced herself on both walls.

"Was Wally the last straw that night, Brenda?" Art edged around the table slowly. "Did his mean insults finally reach a place that you couldn't ignore?" She pinched her face in fury. "I can understand how the urge to strike out at someone like that could take hold of you. You feel that if one good thumping could be administered, the problem would resolve, it would just go away."

"It took more than one good thumping." Her voice grew strangely quiet. "He actually sneered at me and turned his back." Art stopped by the table, holding his breath, trying not to disturb the moment. "I hit him twice, not once, hard and fast. I bet your expert didn't pick that up." She pushed off the wall and strolled along the back of the room, trailing one hand along the wall. "You're right. I didn't come back to the group. I didn't go for a drink either.

I went around to the front and up the stairs no trouble at all. In my room I got this rock that I picked up on a trip, wrapped it in paper towel and went over to Wally's. I told him I wasn't happy about his remarks and he just sneered at me. When he turned his back, I hit him. I went back to my apartment, burned the paper towel in the toilet and waited until the body was discovered.

When I heard Sebastian go down stairs, I slipped out and down the fire escape. By this time everyone was running around the front. I just joined the stampede." She turned and smiled at the detective. "The timing was pure luck, detective."

Art nodded and pulled her chair back to the table, indicating for her to sit. "I'll need to get that recorded officially, Brenda," he said, kindly.

"Sure."