Chapter Twenty-Three
“One thing’s for sure,” Norman said grinning at Hannah. “These are the best peach cookies I ever ate.”
“These are the only peach cookies I ever ate. But I agree that they’re wonderful. Michelle is really talented at making up recipes. These are so good, I think I might have to serve them at The Cookie Jar.”
“Not these!” Norman jerked the plate away from her. “These are my cookies. You’ll have to get the recipe from Michelle and bake your own cookies.”
A message flashed on Norman’s computer monitor and he gave a little sigh. They were in his home office, a large room with a sofa, chairs, a spectacular view of the woods, a fireplace, and two walls of floor to ceiling bookcases. “I’m sorry, Hannah. None of the hits I got on Bernard Alan Neiman panned out.”
“That’s okay. It just goes a little further toward proving my fake name theory.”
“But we may never know who Buddy actually was.”
“I know that, but Doc and Mike are working on identifying him too, and they may have gotten some leads we don’t know about. Mike’s running his fingerprints and he’s got deputies checking for anyone who fits Buddy’s description in the missing person’s records.”
“That’s a big job.”
“Yes it is, but Andrea says Bill’s all for it. He even called in some retired deputies to work on it.”
“Is Doc helping the deputies?”
“No, he’s got his own plan. He told Mother that he was going to post Buddy’s picture in something called Hospital News. It’s a magazine like those airline magazines you read when you’re on a plane. Hospitals subscribe to Hospital News and put it in their waiting rooms. Lots of people see it, and one of them might recognize Buddy and know who he really is.”
“Doc really wants to know, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. He says that since Buddy died in his hospital, he feels a certain responsibility. And that responsibility is doubled because Mother was the one who discovered Buddy’s body. Both of them think that Buddy may have family or someone who needs to know what happened to him.”
“They’re probably right. Human beings don’t live in a vacuum.”
Norman’s computer gave a little ding, and Hannah turned to look at the screen. “What does that ding mean?”
“It means I have an e-mail message. It’s probably Andrea with the photo. Time to get busy, Hannah. I’ll download the photo and we’ll see if we can find out more about the woman in Shelby’s photograph.”
Hannah watched with envy as Norman called up his e-mail program and signed in. She really ought to learn to do some of these things. He’d offered to teach her on several occasions, and she simply hadn’t gotten around to taking him up on his offer. Now it was too late if his marriage to Doctor Bev went off as planned. If, she reminded herself. Those two little letters contained a world of possibilities, and she intended to take full advantage of them.
“Here we go, Hannah.” Norman said, gesturing toward his large computer screen. “See that little circle with all the little lines radiating out from it in the center of the screen?”
“I see it.”
“That means the JPEG Andrea sent me is downloading.”
“Oh,” Hannah said, trying to sound as if she knew exactly what JPEG and downloading meant.
It wasn’t the same magic as watching a print come up in the developer, but Hannah decided that it was magic nonetheless as the image on the screen became detailed before her very eyes. She could see a woman and a man standing in the parking lot of Club Nineteen, in the same row that Andrea had parked her Volvo less than twelve hours ago. Was the man Buddy Neiman? She’d be hard-pressed to give a definitive answer. The best she could do was say that it could be Buddy Neiman.
“Let me see if I can make the woman any clearer,” Norman said, pulling down a menu from the top of the screen and clicking on several selections.
As Hannah watched, the dark background lightened slightly and she was now able to see the evergreen shrubs lining the parking lot and the arc light glinting off the hoods and fenders of the cars. She still could not have positively identified Buddy from the photo, but luckily that wasn’t necessary. Shelby had identified Buddy for them, and she had been an eyewitness. Not only that, she’d heard part of their conversation, which Hannah had written down.
“Are they arguing?” Norman asked, as he worked on the contrast of the photograph.
“Yes. Hold on and I’ll tell you what the waitress overheard them say.”
Out came the murder book, and Hannah flipped to the correct page. “She said, I’d know you anywhere, and Buddy said, You got the wrong guy, lady. Leave me alone! Then she said something that Shelby couldn’t hear. Buddy hollered at her to let go, she did, and then he shouted, I’m not the guy you think I am! And she shouted, Yes you are! I know you are! Then she slapped him and walked away. Shelby thinks she went to a parked car, but she didn’t see which one.”
“Interesting.”
“The argument?”
“No, look at this.” Norman used the mouse to point to a section of the photograph on the screen. “See these three spots of light here?”
“On the woman’s wrist?”
“Yes.”
“I see them. They’re a reflection of some type, aren’t they?”
“Exactly right. They must have caught the light from the arc light in the parking lot behind them. The reflection is clearer than the rest of the photo.”
Hannah’s mind was going so fast, she felt dizzy. This very same thing had happened with the photo of Boyd Watson’s killer. In that case, it had been one spot of light from the moon, and it had reflected off a cufflink that had led them to the killer. Could they be lucky enough to identify the woman who’d argued with Buddy by a reflection?
“This should work,” Norman said. “I’ll select the area of her wrist and start by enlarging two hundred percent.”
Hannah watched as the section of the photo Norman had selected filled more of the screen. “Could it be her watch? Or maybe a bracelet?”
“It could be, but it looks to me like something on the watch or bracelet is catching the light.”
“Can you enlarge it even more?”
“I think so. Those spots are bright.”
“And they’re in sharper focus than the rest of the photo?” Hannah asked.
“That’s right! How did you know that?”
“You told me when we were working on the photo Lucy took of the killer. You said that since the cufflink emitted reflective light of its own, it was sharper than the rest of the photo.”
Norman began to smile. “Do you remember everything I say?”
“Not everything. Sometimes I forget on purpose.”
“Give me an example of what you forget on purpose.”
The fact that you’re getting married and I’m losing you forever, Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say that. “I’m forgetting the fact you said I should have my teeth checked.”
Norman laughed. “Okay. That’s fair. But you probably should have ...”
“I know. I know. One of these days when I have more time ... okay?”
While they were talking, Norman had changed the percentage of enlargement until it now stood at four hundred percent.
“They look like little starbursts,” Hannah said, but they’re getting a little ... what do you call that?”
“Grainy, if you’re doing print photography. Since this is digital photography, I think we could say that we’ve enlarged so much, the image is breaking up into pixels.”
“Would that be like Pointillism? It looks a little like George Seurat’s painting of boats on the Seine, except that the dots are like stars and all three of them are pinkish-orange.”
“That’s it exactly. The color is from the arc light. And you’re right when you say they look like starbursts. They’re snowflake ornaments on a silver bracelet.”
Hannah turned to stare at him in shock. “How do you know that?”
“I know because Bev has a bracelet just like it. My mother gave it to her for Christmas.”
Hannah was so shocked, she wasn’t sure what to say. “Do you ... do you think the woman in the photo is Bev?!”
“No,” Norman gave a little laugh. “You said this was taken at a jazz club, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Club Nineteen.”
“Well, Bev doesn’t really like jazz and I can’t imagine her going to a place like that. If you’d said it was taken outside Orchestra Hall, I would have believed it, but definitely not a jazz club.”
Don’t push it, Hannah’s better sense put the warning in her mind. The seed of doubt has been planted. Now let it grow. You already know she’s a liar, but he doesn’t know that yet.
“I wonder where your mother got that bracelet,” Hannah said, pushing back the suspicious thoughts that were filling her mind.
“I’m not sure. I know she picked it up at the last minute. It’s only nine and I’m sure they’re still up. Why don’t we call and ask her?”