Start at the beginning,'
Mel thought for a moment. 'The janitor, Sven Turner, called in to his supervisor the night he was supposed to clean the theater late at night. He said he'd heard two men talking, so he decided to go back early in the morning.'
'What difference did it make if two people were there?'
'First, one of them was Denny, and it was the night he died. I have no idea who the other was. But most important to Sven was that he didn't like being around people. That's why he took the night shift almost all of the time.'
'A misanthrope?' Jane asked.
'Not really. I don't think he hated anyone. He was simply too shy and timid to want to talk to strangers.'
'How do you know this?'
'Both his boss and his sister, who were virtually the only people he felt comfortable speakingto, said so and clearly meant it. So far nobody but the local cop on the beat even knew who he was. And he'd seldom even seen Sven. Officer Jones would drop in to check on Sven's sister, who lost both her lower legs to diabetes.'
'Oh, how awful for her. How will she manage without her brother?'
'It's a problem they're going to have to deal with, especially if he doesn't survive. But you'll understand better when I get to the end of this story.
'So what happened to Sven?'
'He came back the next morning, and as he was unloading his cleaning supplies from the back of his truck, he was struck hard on the side of his head.'
'Did he see who did it?'
'No, probably not. By the time he was found, he was in a coma. He still is. That's why I called on his sister, to learn more about him. I asked if I could see his bedroom, thinking that bedrooms often tell you about a person's interests. Some, like you, have more books than anyone I know. I am, as you've seen, a slob who has never made his own bed.'
'What was Sven's room like?'
The salads arrived, and after eating a few bites and pronouncing it a great dressing, but on too much lettuce, Mel went on, 'Sven's room was neat and tidy. The house must have been where
both Sven and his sister, Hilda, grew up. Nothing had changed since the 1970s, when Sven's parents put cowboy wallpaper up. You could have bounced a dime off the bed, it was so well made. A really huge, dreary, mostly brown jigsaw puzzle was set up near the window.'
He took a few more bites of the salad as Jane was eating hers.
'I looked in his closet. Closets tell you things, too. Terribly neat. The whole bottom was filled with puzzle boxes, and on the back of the door was one of those pocket things for shoes. He had at least a dozen. One pair of loafers looked as if it had never been worn. So I pulled a shoe out and a neat roll of one-hundred-dollar bills with a rubber band around it fell out.'
Jane gasped. 'Blackmail! Remember I mentioned that as possible motive for trying to kill a janitor?'
'I'd given it some thought as well,' Mel admitted. 'But I don't believe he had the courage to blackmail strangers. You have to be very brazen and talk scary. 'I'll come after your family if you don't come up with the money' and so forth. It's also dangerous being a blackmailer. You don't know when your victim will meet you with a mob of cops hidden behind cars and vans. From hearing what his boss and his sister said, he simply couldn't have faced any stranger and been forceful and tough.'
'You're really convinced about this,' Jane said. She wasn't questioning his judgment. She knew it was a result of his experience and skills.
'Yes. But, Jane, when I came back with a warrant to search legally, the total hidden in his room was more than a hundred thousand dollars.'
Jane lost her grip on her salad fork, which flipped over and fell on the floor. A waiter instantly replaced it.
Jane, embarrassed, thanked the waiter and, when he was gone, asked, 'Did his sister know about the money?'
Mel nodded. 'Apparently some, perhaps a lot, of the money is hers. While I was snooping before I got the warrant to search, she was chatting with Officer Jones, the cop who checks on her from time to time. She's considerably older than her brother and for a long time had a very well-paying job. When she had to leave because of the problems with her legs, she had a lot of pension money built up that's still being paid. She had also received disability payments from social security.'
Jane put down her fork. 'But even if that's true, I don't think that between her pension, social security, and whatever her brother makes as a janitor, they could save that much money. Could they? They must have had expenses like everyone else. Property tax, food, utilities like water, gas, and electricity. And old houses often need
new gutters, roofs, and furnaces. Why are you grinning like that? Aren't I making sense?'
'Are you finished with your salads?' The waiter was back.
'I think we are,' Mel said. Jane nodded.
Then she said, 'I hate getting this story in installments. Talk faster before the steaks get here or save it for later.'
'I can sum it up in one word. Gambling.' 'Gambling? Who?'
'Sven, of course. Every weekend.'
'But you can't be solitary when you're in a casino. I've been in several and they were mobbed.'
'Mobbed maybe. Especially on weekends, I'd imagine. But you don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to.'
The vigilant waiter saw the opportunity to bring their steaks and baked potatoes while Jane was sitting back considering this scenario.
They both applied themselves to the main course without talking much. Jane had ordered the largest filet mignon, done medium rare, and was planning to take home half of it to slice really thin and use on a sandwich the next day. Mel went through his entire T-bone. After the waiter had boxed up half of Jane's steak, Mel said, 'Order yourself a dessert; I think I'll just have strong coffee. I want to finish this story and see what you think of it.'
'I see already why you didn't explain what would happen to Sven's sister if he died,' Jane said. 'She'd own a house, inherit the whole amount of money, and be able to take a room or two, even her own wing, maybe, at a good nursing home.'
When the waiter returned, Jane ordered a fudgy dark chocolate dessert, with coffee. She intended to take most of the dessert home as well. This restaurant wrapped up the leftovers in such pretty little boxes, tied up in ribbons, and she wanted to keep two of them.
While she nibbled at the dessert, Mel went on, 'Sven liked to finish his cleaning jobs at the crack of dawn on Fridays so he could go to casinos in Iowa, St. Louis, or even Minneapolis. Then catch up with janitoring late on Sunday nights. A lot of driving time getting to and from the farthest ones. But apparently profitable enough.'
'And you believe this?'
'We circulated his picture from his driver's license to several of the casinos, and it seems to be true. Several of the cashiers recognized him. The employees and those monitoring the tables and slot machines on hidden cameras are really vigilant.'
'He's either very lucky or cheating, to accumulate that much money,' Jane said.
