Gifts From The Kasbah - Robert F. Clifton (read any book .TXT) 📗

I suggest that you step back away from the chef and the stove as he pours in the warm brandy and ignites it creating a flambe''.

“Have you done this before?”, she asked.

“Oh yes, my lady several times”.

“And what were the results?”

“Let's see, the first time new kitchen curtains. The second time, first degree burns”.

“Was that the last time?”

“This might be the last time”, he said.

“Jane laughed, “Robert, you are crazy”.

When they were finished eating Jane cleared the table and Robert put the pots, pans, dishes and utensils in the dishwasher. When they were finished they then walked into the living-room/den. Jane walked to the glass paned doors that led out on to the balcony and looked out and down at the beach. A steel-gray colored ocean sent small breakers towards the beach. As the waves broke, a

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winter wind blew, blowing white foam from the crest of the rolling walls of salt water.

“No one goes to the beach in winter”, she said.

“Some do. I do”, Wallace answered as he placed a record in the stereo.

“Really. In the cold?”

“Sure. It's great to walk the sand, a cold wind coming off of the ocean. The seagulls looking for surf clams that wash up on the beach after a storm. The best part is not too many people doing the same”.

Music began to come softly from the phonograph. He held out his arms to her. “Care to dance?”, he asked.

She walked to him and he took her in his arms. He held her to him for a minute then began to dance. He danced her near a wall then reached up and flipped the light switch, knowing that the next tune would be, “Dancing In The Dark”.

As the song began he lowered his head and kissed her on the lips. As he did the telephone rang. “Damn it!”, he said. He released her and went to his desk and picked up the telephone receiver.

“Hello?”

“Captain?... We found Gloria Esposito”, said Frank Stiles.

“Where?”

“On Epinger Boulevard. Uniform patrol noticed a car stopped in the middle of the highway with the motor running and the headlights on. They investigated and found her. She was dead”.

“Do we know how she died?”

“Not yet'. We have her pocketbook and an interesting newspaper article”.

“What makes it interesting?”

“It's an article about the Kerr girl's murder and mentions that you are the lead investigator”

“Where's the body?”

“It should be in the morgue by now”.

“And her belongings?”

“We have them”.

“Good. I'll look at them in the morning”.

 

 

 

 

 

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Chapter Eight

 

Captain Wallace sat at his desk looking at the drivers license of Gloria Esposito. Although it contained her Lenape Lakes address the license Had expired two months ago. He leaned forward in the high back chair and made a note of that fact. He then examined the other contents of the pocketbook, finding a comb, lipstick, small mirror, keys and several white, business cards along with thirty seven dollars in cash. Picking up one of the cards he read, “ Fatima, Queen of the Arab Dance, Available For Social Affairs And Private Party's. Call 592 0090”. He looked at Stiles and asked, “Is that all she had with her?”

“According to the two officers reports, that's it”.

Wallace reached across the desk and picked up the pocketbook.

He looked at it closely, examining it, finding it familiar. The handbag was made of leather and had a deep, dark, brown color. Attached to the purse was a long, leather strap. Indicating that Gloria Esposito used the pocketbook as a shoulder bag. He turned the bag over and looked at the intricate carving that had produced an Arabic design. Picking up the telephone he dialed the number for the Crime Scene Investigators. Sergeant Campo answered the phone.

“Sergeant? This is Captain Wallace. I need a photographer here in my office. I want a photograph taken of a piece of evidence”.

“I'll be right there sir”.

“Ten minutes later, Sergeant June Campo arrived carrying a Graflex Crown four by five large film format camera. “Good morning Captain. I thought that I'd take the photo's you need”, she said.

53. “I want a couple of shots of this pocketbook. Try and give me pictures of the front, back, and side. Make sure you get that tooled leather design”, said Wallace. He then got up from his desk and out of the way of Sergeant Campo then stood and watched as she took the photographs.

When she was finished she asked, “Is there anything else Captain?”

“Can you give me eight by ten prints?”

“Yes sir. You'll have them in about an hour”.

“Excellent”.

“What do you want us to do?”,asked Stiles.

“Go out to the police garage. Take a Crime Scene Investigator Officer with you and examine Gloria Esposito's automobile. I want it gone over inch by inch inside and out. Naturally, when you're finished I want reports”.

“On the way”, said Stiles.

Using the telephone again Wallace dialed the number for the hospital morgue. It rang several times before he heard the voice of Doctor Edwards.

“Morgue, Doctor Edwards”.

“I understand you have the body of one Gloria Esposito”, said Wallace.

“Is that her name? We haven't been formally introduced. I have her as a Jane Doe, white female, age and address unknown”.

“That's probably the way the body was admitted last night. I'll have someone there with all the information you need”.

“Good”.

“Have you had time to ascertain the cause of death?”

“Yep, heart failure?”

“Anything else?”

“As a matter of fact I was getting ready to call you. This woman you call Gloria Esposito has a rash that is identical to the one I found on Elizabeth Kerr who if you recall also died from heart failure”.

“I'll be damned”, uttered Wallace.

“I'm sure you will be, however I'm busy. If I find anything else I'll let you know”.

“Anything from the State lab yet?”

“No”.

“OK, thanks Doc”.

Wallace pressed the disconnect button with his thumb then waited for a dial tone. When he heard it he dialed the number for the Kerr residence.

The telephone rang six times and just as he was getting ready to hang up he heard

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Jane's voice answer. “Hello?”

“Hi, you must be busy”.

“Not really, I was in the kitchen making lunch. I had to stop and take something off of the stove”.

“Oh, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need something”.

“What is it?”

“I need Elizabeth's pocketbook. I'm looking for something, a connection between her and Gloria Esposito”.

“How soon do you need it?”

“How about an hour?”

“Make it an hour and thirty minutes. I want to eat my lunch”

“Then an hour and thirty minutes it is. Empty it out please. I only need the purse, not its contents”.

“OK, good by”.

An hour later, Sergeant Campo walked into the office. “Captain I have the photo's you requested. Would you look at them and let me know if they're what you want?”, she asked. Wallace looked at each photo and said, “Perfect, thanks Sergeant. He then got up and put on his coat and headed for his assigned, unmarked car in the police parking lot. As he took the elevator down to the street level he glanced at his wristwatch and noted the time. He was early in his meeting with Jane. He stopped at the concession stand located in the city hall lobby. There he ordered a hot dog and soft drink then stood trying to balance the envelope containing the photographs with one hand while trying to counterbalance his lunch in the other hand. Finally, he took two large bites of the sandwich and washed it down with a gulp of soda, tossing what remained in the trash.

Thirty minutes later he rang the doorbell at the Kerr residence.

Jane opened the door immediately. “I've been standing here waiting for you”, she said.

“Am I late? I stopped to have a hot dog”.

“I know, you have mustard on the corner of your mouth”, she replied.

“Sorry, I was in a hurry”

“Come in. I have her purse. I emptied it just as you asked'.

“Thank you. I want to compare it with these photo's I have of Gloria Esposito's shoulder bag”, said Robert as he removed the black and white pictures from the large envelope. He placed Elizabeth's pocketbook flat on the coffee table with the carved design on the front flap. He looked at the handbag then at the photo's. He did this three times then placed the photographs back in the envelope.

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“The two shoulder bags are identical. I'm going to need Elizabeth's bag for a couple of hours. I want to show it to someone I know who is damn near an expert when it comes to leather and leather goods”.

“What ever you want, Robert”.

“ Alright, I have to get going. Hopefully I'll catch this guy in his store”.

“Will you call me tonight and let me know what is happening?”

“Sure, but it may be late. I never know where an investigation will take me”.

Wallace parked the unmarked car in front of the A.C. Leather and Luggage Store on Ocean Ave. He then walked into the establishment and when he did he was met by a salesman. “Yes sir, how can I help you?”, asked the clerk.

“Is Mr. Ginsberg here?”, asked Wallace

“I'm afraid Mr. Ginsberg is busy right now. I'm sure I can help you. What do you need?”, asked the sales person.

“I need you to go in the back to Howard's office and tell him that Robert Wallace is here to see him.

“Is he expecting you?”

“Look. Are you going back there or am I? This is a police matter and I don't have time to fiddle-fart around”, said Wallace showing his badge.

“Oh, I'm sorry sir. Please excuse me. I'll tell Mr. Ginsberg immediately'.

“Thank you”.

Howard Ginsberg walked into the showroom of the store putting out his right hand as he walked towards Wallace. “Robert, how are you. I can't remember the last time I saw you”, he said.

“It was at Aron's Bar Mitzvah. What's he been up to?”

“Trying to determine if he wants to be a Rabbi, merchant or hockey player. What can I do for you Robert?”, asked Howard.

“I want to know what you can tell me about this pocketbook. In particular where it was made or where it is from?”

“Ginsberg took the bag from Wallace and slowly brought it up to his nose, smelling it. Lowering it he said, It's made of Moroccan leather. And, it's good leather. Three years ago I imported ten thousand dollars worth of Moroccan leather goods, wallets, handbags, satchel's. All of it arrived in mid June and I put it on display. Some of it sold, some of it didn't. Then came fall and winter. With the cold I

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turned up the heat in the store. What happened? Such a smell. Such an odor. people I sold Moroccan goods to returned them complaining of the smell. Come to find out that it some parts of Morocco they tan the leather in camel urine. When that kind of leather is exposed to heat it emits the stink. Since then I don't handle Moroccan leather”.

“What can you tell me about the carved design on the flap?”, asked Wallace.

Ginsberg examined the flap. “AS I told you, this is good leather and the carving was probably done by an artisan. It was probably made in Marrakesh or Tangier”.

“If you were selling this item, what would you charge?”, asked Robert.

“Between forty eight and sixty eight dollars”, Ginsberg answered.

“Do you know of any one else selling Moroccan leather goods in the area?”, asked Wallace.

“No, but you might check the gift shops in the hotels”.

“Thanks Howard. Tell Aron I was asking for him”.

“I will'.

Back in his office Wallace sat typing a report containing information about the two identical pocketbooks. Finished he pulled the original and three copies out of the typewriter and placed them in the file labeled, “Elizabeth Kerr, Homicide”. As he returned the file to the top drawer of the gray, steel cabinet, Detective Stiles walked into the office. Wallace turned and looked at him, surprised to see him back from his assignment so soon. “Are you finished?”, asked the Captain.

“Yes and no. We found something that I thought you would want to know about it right