The Butterfly Conspiracy (27 page)

“I don’t think so.
 
I never saw a basement in the garage, but then again, I never knew there was a secret passageway from the library either!” Jeanette said.

The basement was also used as a storage area, but the items seemed to be more like household things, not movie props.
  
At the end of the cellar was another stairway, this time leading up.
 

Stephen turned to Jeanette, “I guess we’ll find out where this goes now.”
 

They climbed the stairway.
 
Stephen turned the door handle and pushed.
 
Part of a wall swung open and they entered into a living room area.
 
Stephen turned around to see the opening was once again, part of a floor to ceiling bookcase.
 

Jeanette gasped. “I don’t believe this!
 
We’re in Britt’s house!”

 
“We probably shouldn’t be over here,” Stephen said.
 
“It’s still closed off and considered a crime scene.”

“I know,” Jeanette replied. “But I want to see something.”

She walked over to the bedroom and glanced in. Jeanette covered her face and shuttered.
 

“Oh, Stephen, this is terrible. We have to leave.”

Stephen followed her and looked in.
 
The room looked the same as when they had peeked through the window and found Britt.
 
Except now they could see a lot more of the surroundings.
 
Lamps were broken on the floor and bedding was tossed around.
 
There was a large stain of blood on the bed.
 
It looked like a terrible struggle had taken place.
 

“I think this answers our questions, Jeanette.
 
This was no suicide. Let’s get out of here.”

They headed back to the basement and climbed the stairs back to the passageway in silence.
 
Stephen quietly took Jeanette’s hand in his as they walked down the corridor.
 
They were both thinking what the ramifications of this discovery could mean.
 
They reached the turn in the corridor and walked towards the stuffed bear when Stephen suddenly stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Jeanette asked.
 

“Look!” Stephen said, pointing to the floor behind the bear.

“What is it? Jeanette asked.

Stephen bent down, pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and slowly picked up a bloody knife by the tip.
  

“It’s my knife.
 
It’s the knife Uncle Phillip gave me.”

Jeanette stared.
 
“Stephen, it’s the murder weapon.”

“I know.”

Chapter 35

Paulie was sitting on a chair looking outside the front window. It was five in the afternoon and he was getting stir crazy sitting around Moon’s filthy room.
 
Every now and then a car would drive by.
 
Paulie stretched, got up and grabbed a beer from the fridge.
 
As he walked by the card table, he tried not to look at the disgusting bird, turned inside out.
 
Paulie returned to the chair and glanced at his watch.
 
He spotted some movement out the window and observed a car pulling up to the curb.
 

A man, who appeared to be in his early forties got out, walked over to the passenger side and held the door open as a bleached blonde got out.
 
She was carrying a six pack.
 
Paulie stood up.
 
Paulie thought the blonde was a little big, but he had to admit, she was built.
 
 
Her blouse was half unbuttoned and pulled out of her jeans on one side.
 

Paulie watched as they entered the building.
 
He could hear them climb the stairs. They walked passed Moon’s room and stopped next door.
 
The woman was laughing as the man fumbled for his keys.
 

“Come on Lester, I don’t have all day.
 
My old man’s going to be home in a few.”

The door opened and slammed close.
 
A few minutes later, Paulie heard the deep thump of bass reverberating through the wall from a stereo next door.
 
He could hear muffled laughter coming from the other room and then sounds like furniture being moved.
 
After several more minutes the pounding bass was replaced by another noise, the unmistakable sound of a couple making love.
 

Paulie paced the floor and finished his beer.
 
The moans and thumps from next door were driving him crazy.
 
He started thinking about Annette from
Queens
.
 
He had met her at an Italian bakery where he was shaking down the owner for protection money.
 
Annette was built similar to the blonde next door.
 
She was about the same height but not so big in the hips.
 
They had been seeing each other for about eight months.
 

Paulie slammed down his empty beer bottle.
 
He had to get out of Moon’s disgusting room.
 
He couldn’t sit and listen to what was going on next door for another moment.
 

Paulie rummaged through his suitcase and pulled out his traveling butterfly net.
 
He walked down the stairs and headed to the back of the rooming house.
 
The backyard backed up to a wooded area. He peeked around the building to make sure nobody could spot him from the road.
 

Paulie walked to the edge of the forest.
 
He peered into the woods searching for butterflies.
 
After a few minutes, he spotted a beautiful dark blue skipper.
 
Paulie ran after the specimen, his net swooping in the air.
 
Back and forth he went, always inches from his quarry.
 

Paulie stumbled and fell to his knees.
 
Those damn boots he had stolen were pinching his feet.
 
He watched as the blue butterfly disappeared back into the woods.
 

Paulie got up and walked back and forth along the edge of the forest for twenty more minutes, searching for more butterflies.
 
He gave a half-hearted chase after a big, bright yellow one, only to have it flitter back into the woods.
 
That was enough.
 
He gave up in disgust.
 
His feet were hurting.
 
He returned to Moon’s room and stashed his net away.
            
    
 

Paulie thought about The Freighter View Tavern.
 
A cold beer and some company sounded very inviting.
 
It was a much better idea than sitting around this stinking room.
 

The rooming house was on
10
th street.
 
He figured it should only be about a few blocks to the bar.
 
Paulie slipped out of the room and closed the door softly behind him, making sure the lock was not set.
 

As he walked down the sidewalk to the bar, he watched to make sure no one was following him.
 
After walking three blocks, the work boots started hurting his feet.
 
He reached down and untied the laces, hoping that would give him some relief.
 
By the time Paulie made it to the bar, he was limping badly from blisters on both feet.

A tour bus was parked in front.
 
‘
Grand Rapids Lake Circle
Tours
’ was painted in big white letters on the side.
 
Paulie had never seen the Freighter so crowded.
 
The place was packed.
 
Quite a few tourists were sitting at tables having lunch.
 
Other people were standing at the bar having drinks.
 

Paulie scanned the room.
 
He saw a lot of older people, probably from the bus.
 
There were a few guys who looked like locals and then his gaze stopped at a table in the corner where two younger women were sitting.
 
They weren’t dressed like tourists. One girl, the blonde, was wearing a mini-skirt.
 
The other girl, a red head, was wearing a tight sweater with a plunging neckline.
 
Paulie limped over to their table, pulled out a chair and sat down.

The girls stopped talking and turned towards their intruder.
 

“Sorry, mister, this table’s taken,” the blonde said.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Paulie said.
 
It’s packed in here and my feet are killing me.”

A waitress walked by and Paulie tugged at her sleeve.
 
“Get these ladies another drink and I’ll have a whiskey and water.”

The red head was about to tell Paulie to go find another seat, but the prospect of a free drink made her change her mind.
 
Instead, she said, “Where you from, big guy? It don’t sound like you’re from around here?”

Not wanting to give out too much information, Paulie replied, “I’m from the east coast, up near
Boston
. What about you girls?
 
You don’t exactly fit in with these tourists, either.”

“We’re dancers.
 
Exotic dancers.” The blonde said.
 

“We were exotic dancers,” The red head corrected.
 
“Now we’re just unemployed.”

“What happened?” Paulie asked.

The blonde said, “We were dancing for some creep who owns a club in Munising and, let’s just say, he was more interested in taking our money out in trade than in our dance routines, and that don’t fly with me, honey. I’m not a prude or nothing like that, but first you gotta show me some cash before we can discuss other matters, you know?”

The red head lit a cigarette.
 
“We got expenses.
 
Our costumes, our shoes, don’t even get me started.
 
Roxanne, here,” she nodded at the blonde, “had this great idea to get us out of Grayling and thought we could make some money dancing.
 
I wanted to go to
Lansing
, but no, she knew this guy in Munising.”

Roxanne interrupted, “I didn’t know he was such a jerk, Lisa.
 
It’s not my fault.”

Lisa, the read head, continued, “Now we’re staying in a campground and we don’t even have enough money for gas to get us back home.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Paulie said.
 
“If you girls want to do a little partying, I’ll make it worth your while.”
 
He pulled a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet and slammed it on the table.

“Hey, Paulie.
 
What’s going on?”