The Love Potion Murders In The Museum Of Man Part 13

I sighed. "The things I've missed."

The ensuing heavy silence I broke by saying, "So, Di, you think there would be a market?"

"Are you kidding? I mean once they get it right, if that's what they're trying to do. Think of all those Chinese who can't get it up unless they're eating parts of endangered animals. You whip up a concoction, call it Tiger b.a.l.l.s or something like that. I mean the Asian market alone is incredible. They all seem to suffer from limp d.i.c.ks."

The light went on very brightly. I sat forward. "You're a dear," I said. I leaned over to give her a little kiss. "You're a very smart dear. And now I must go to bed before I have another one of these and make a fool of myself."

Diantha stood up with me and gave me a real kiss. "I'll never think of you as a fool, Norman."

But of course I am a fool, an utter, low fool. The very next morning I watched her as she left the upstairs bathroom with a small towel draped so haphazardly over herself that I could not but help seeing her naked form in its every robust detail. My breathing all but stopped. I suppose she doesn't realize what this does to me. I am not one of those casual males where displays of this kind are concerned. As someone once said, the beauty of women makes good men suffer. Not that I count myself good. Because I find myself utterly infatuated. Can one love two women at once? Can one love a mother and daughter simultaneously, love them like a man loves a woman?

We came back on Sat.u.r.day to find that Amanda Feeney-Morin had done a long "think" piece in the Bugle Bugle, dredging up the Bert-Betti and Ossmann-Woodley cases, linking them together, of course, rehashing the details with insinuating, subtle invective, and speculating about the management of the Museum of Man, "which has resisted efforts by the university to provide modern inst.i.tutional leadership." She then quoted President Twill of Wainscott to the effect that he has "ongoing concerns with the policy directions underway at present in the Museum of MOM [sic]." The man doesn't even know what we're called.

I have written to Don Patcher asking him to a.s.sign a more unbiased reporter to cover the university and the museum. I pointed out to him that Ms. Feeney is married to Mr. Morin and is doing nothing more than serving as a mouthpiece for Wainscott in its continuing attempt to take us over. As it stands, I wrote, you might as well put Malachy Morin's byline next to hers. I don't know whether that will do any good or not, but it is right and proper to respond to these matters.

25.

Well, Lieutenant Tracy and I have taken the bulls by the horns, so to speak, and confronted Dr. Penrood and Celeste Tangent about their relations with Professor Ossmann.

In turns out that Ms. Tangent's possible involvement takes on added significance in the light of certain aspects of her background. Indeed, the lieutenant's briefing on the matter provoked in me a heuristic arousal bordering on the unseemly. According to his sources in New York, both of the establishments mentioned prominently in her CV - the Caucasian Escort Service and the Crazy Russian - were controlled or owned through dummy corporations by one Moshe ben Rovich, a leading figure in the Russian-Jewish mob in Brooklyn with connections to Tel Aviv and Moscow. A leading figure, that is, until he crossed Victor "Dead Meat" Karnivorsky and disappeared a couple of years ago.

The lieutenant and I discussed strategy at some length. We decided to try to "break" Penrood first, using tactics somewhat less than gentlemanly. To that end, I put in a call to Dr. Penrood first thing yesterday morning, saying that I needed to see him in the Twitch.e.l.l Room on a matter of some urgency. He said he could spare some time around eleven. I said that would be fine.

Penrood's evident if subtle English annoyance turned to a decided wariness upon his arrival at the Twitch.e.l.l Room, where I introduced him to Lieutenant Tracy. I said the meeting was part of our investigation of the Ossmann-Woodley case. We needed him to look at some video footage. The play's the thing and all that.

So after I had closed and locked the door and turned down the shades, we watched for several minutes in silence Professor Ossmann and two other persons in s.e.xual congress. There was enough light for me to notice that Dr. Penrood's complexion went from considerable color to a decided pallor and back again.

When the tape ended, I turned the lights back on. Lieutenant Tracy pulled his chair closer to Dr. Penrood's and leaned into him. "This footage is dated September eighth. The man facing the camera is quite obviously Professor Ossmann. And we have reason to believe, Dr. Penrood, that the woman involved in this arrangement is Celeste Tangent - and the man with his back to the camera is you."

I took my seat to one side and watched Dr. Penrood wrestle with what to say. Finally he shook his head. "I don't want to say anything without a lawyer present."

Lieutenant Tracy leaned back, nodding as though in sympathetic agreement. "It's that bad?"

"No, it's not that bad."

"Of course, Dr. Penrood, you have the right to remain silent and the right to consult an attorney..."

Marvelous, I thought, the way the detective was using the Miranda warning as a kind of insinuation.

He leaned even closer. "If you do decide to get an attorney before helping us, as my colleagues in your country would put it, it could get very messy. You won't have to tell us much, true. But you see, Dr. Penrood, Ms. Tangent has doc.u.mented connections with organized crime in New York. That will help us considerably when we go before a judge, show him this footage, and ask for all different kinds of surveillance as part of our investigation into the Ossmann-Woodley murders."

"Murders...?"

"That's what we've announced."

"Of course, of course," Dr. Penrood said, his nervousness obvious now.

When Dr. Penrood had lapsed into silence for a good while, the lieutenant quietly leaned forward again, his voice low and nearly cold. "I can also a.s.sure you, Dr. Penrood, that if you help us we will make sure that no one else gets to see this footage. Because, as Mr. de Ratour can tell you, the Seaboard Police Department can turn into a regular sieve when it comes to leaks. Despite our best efforts."

Dr. Penrood stiffened. "Are you threatening me, Lieutenant?"

"No. I'm only trying to rea.s.sure you. I want to know what happened the night you and Ms. Tangent and Professor Ossmann had s.e.x together."

Dr. Penwood wavered awhile longer. It was obvious, I think, that he was trying to figure out what to tell us and what not to tell us. Finally he sighed. "First, I want it established that my relations with Ms. Tangent are strictly my own business and I am only telling you what I know to help clear things up."

"Of course."

"On the night in question, Dr. Ossmann and Ms. Tangent dropped by my office for an after-work drink."

"Had you been intimate with Ms. Tangent before this incident?"

Dr. Penrood hesitated. "Yes."

"When did your relations with her start?"

"About six months ago."

"After she came on board?"

He hesitated. "Before that."

"Did you hire her?"

"I...As a matter of fact...I mean I was only one of several to interview her."

"Had she been intimate with Professor Ossmann before the incident with the three of you?"

"I don't think so. But...she has a life of her own."

"As do you."

"Yes."

"Tell me, Dr. Penrood, what did everyone have to drink on the evening in question?"

"Sherry. That's all I keep in the office."

"Who poured it?"

I think I detected a look of cunning come into the researcher's eyes. "Actually, it was Professor Ossmann. He was well acquainted with the cabinet where I kept the sherry and gla.s.ses."

"You knew Professor Ossmann well then."

"Not in any real social sense. He was always in here, usually complaining. The drink placated him."

Lieutenant Tracy looked up from the notebook he had been writing in. "How much sherry did you have?"

"A couple of gla.s.ses each."

"And Professor Ossmann poured all of them?"

"Yes."

"Over at the cabinet?"

"Yes."

"And in each case he could have slipped something in the gla.s.ses had he wanted to?"

"Yes."

"Tell me exactly what happened after you each had several gla.s.ses."

Dr. Penrood colored a little and cleared his throat. "It's hard to remember exactly. Celeste...Ms. Tangent...was sitting between me and Professor Ossmann on the couch. We all just...started getting amorous."

"Are you bis.e.xual, Dr. Penrood?"

"No. It wasn't that way. I and, I think, Professor Ossmann were only interested in Ms. Tangent."

"What happened then?"

"I said something to the effect that if we were going to get carried away, I knew a better place in the building."

"The staff smoking room?" I asked.

He nodded.

"So you went there?"

"Yes. It's just down the hall from my office."

The lieutenant took the edge off his voice. "Did you ever feel at any point that you were under the influence of some...drug...or potion?"

Dr. Penrood did a very good job right then of feigning what might be called the ignorance of innocence. He shook his head, appeared to think back, made a grimace. "I can't really tell. It did happen quite...suddenly. At the time I just thought it was...Celeste."

"Do you know if Professor Ossmann was working on any kind of aphrodisiac? I mean, on the side."

Again he hesitated, but only for a moment. "He could have been, but I doubt it."

"How's that?"

"Professor Ossmann was a serious scientist. He tracked a.s.siduously every last t.i.ttle he contributed to any project. I doubt very much he would have been involved in something he couldn't put his name on."

"But it's not inconceivable?"

"No..."

The lieutenant looked up, glanced at me, and said, "I think that's enough for now, Dr. Penrood. I'm going to have this typed up, and I would like you to sign it."

"But..."

"It won't be under oath. If, later, you want to add or subtract something, we'll understand completely. People often leave out things, details."

"Is it really necessary?"

"No, not really. But it will look a lot better for you if..."

By the time Dr. Penrood left he had lost that air of superiority that mantles so many British of a certain cla.s.s.

I tackled, and that is the operative verb, Celeste Tangent next. Lieutenant Tracy suggested that I speak to her alone. He was of the opinion, and I agreed with him, that, given her background, Ms. Tangent might open up more with me, say things she might not say in the presence of the police.

So this afternoon, when Doreen ushered Ms. Tangent - "Oh, please, Celeste" - into my office, the dear girl showed all the awed deference she might have held for a movie star. I was a little awed myself, frankly, with the way Ms. Tangent's rich blond hair swept up from a regal neck, the sudden, brilliant smile lighting from behind the cornflower eyes, the formfitting slacks and how she sat herself just so into the chair I held for her in front of my desk.

She was instantly alive with throwaway chatter in an accent I couldn't quite place, Oklahoma, perhaps, with an overlay of Brooklyn. "Oh, but I do love this part of the museum. I mean parts of it are creepy, you know, but really fascinating."

I nodded, half hypnotized not so much by the way her turtleneck of fine wool molded her ample bosom, but by her eyes and voice and how they played off each other, the effect like some exquisite sonata. A lab a.s.sistant, indeed.

I cleared my throat. "Ms. Tangent..."

"Oh, please, Celeste."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to call you Ms. Tangent."

She smiled. "Actually, coming from you, it sounds really nice. But then call me Miss Tangent. Ms. always sounds like someone who wears heavy shoes."

I cleared my throat again. "Miss Tangent, as you probably know by now, we have a somewhat compromising tape of a person we know to be you with Dr. Penrood and the late Professor Ossmann involved in..."

She gave a tut of mock self-reproval that, as she leaned toward me, turned into a kind of confiding embarra.s.sment. "Oh, our little threesome. It was all my fault. I know you think Pen - Dr. Penrood, isn't that a silly name - told me to tell you that. But it's true. Sometimes, Mr...."

"De Ratour."

"Mr. de Ratour, now, that's a name. Anyway, there are times when I feel lonely with just one guy. But not with every man, Mr. de Ratour. There are men who are up to it. I can sense it in them. Even some older guys..."

"Miss Tangent..."

She smiled, gave a laugh. "So they have it on tape. Oh, my G.o.d, I hope my mother never gets to see it. She's born-again. She has Jesus for breakfast. Can I get a copy? I could have been a p.o.r.n star..."

"But instead you became a lab a.s.sistant."

"Yes. Isn't life amazing?"

"Why?"