Summer Daze

Detective Alexandra Eames was sitting at her desk going over her notes from the previous evening’s interviews when her partner arrived.



“Good morning.” He greeted her as he sat at the desk facing hers.



“Hi.” She replied.



“Did you get anything useful?” He asked, indicating her notes.



“A few names,” she stifled a yawn, “not much for being out till 3a.m…How about you? I saw you talking to that singer as I was leaving. Did you pump her for information?”



“Yes,” Bobby answered a little too quickly, willing himself not to blush at his partner’s choice of words. “She was a friend of the victim. Star, by the way.”



“Yeah, I got that from the kids I was talking to.” Eames put in, “No boyfriend, she was a lesbian.”



“Although she was married,” Goren nodded.



“Right,” Alex looked at her notes, “to the bassist in the band that was playing last night.”



Her partner checked his own notes, “Kai Hamlett. The band is called Succubus Blush. Star was friends with her ex-husband as well as the other band members. Did you get a name on her girlfriend? Summer…uh…Summer Davis…the singer…said she had one but didn’t know a name.”



“No.” Alex said slowly as she flipped through the pages in front of her, “All I got was that they thought her girlfriend worked a Macy’s. Sounds like we need to talk to the boys in the band…”



“Let’s run their names through the computer. They seemed…resistant…last night. If they have warrants, it might help them open up.” Bobby suggested.



Eames nodded and turned to her computer.



“I already have the stats on Ms. Davis.” Goren said, handing her the single faxed sheet from his notebook, “She’s clean, not even so much as a parking ticket.”



“Well, you’ve already talked to her.” Alex stated, “What about the others? Names?”



He pawed through his notes and called them out to his partner. One by one she brought up the files on her monitor. “Jerry Karma Vishnu Davis, aka Jarv…”



“Jerry Karma Vishnu?” Eames laughed.



Bobby nodded, “Ms. Davis’ brother. She said their parents were hippies…”



“You think?” she grinned as her nimble fingers flew over the keyboard, “Here we go…one juvenile arrest for vandalism…and, more currently…a warning on a 417…”



“Brandishing a weapon.” Her partner stated.



“Yeah,” she replied, “No outstanding warrants, though…Next?”



“Baruch Kai Hamlett goes by Kai…” he read.



“Baruch?”



“It’s a German name.” he answered.



“Okay…Numerous arrests for public indecency, public intoxication, vandalism…There! A VC 10852 warrant…vandalism to a vehicle…Let’s see…” with a few clicks she opened the case file, “Gross.”



“What?” Bobby asked.



“They’ve got him on video taking a dump on somebody’s dashboard.”



“Uh…Let’s move on…” he recommended, “Andrew McKown”



Alex made a face at the screen and turned to him, eyebrows raised, “I have four…”



Bobby thanked God that his alcoholic haze was lifting as he closed his eyes and tried to picture the drummer, “White male…long brown hair…late twenties…approximately 6’6”…bulky…I’ll say around 300 pounds.”



“Hmmm…This looks close…” she turned her monitor so her partner could get a better look, “That him?”



“Yes.” He leaned closer and read, “harassing phone calls…hit and run…one misdemeanor DUI…” he glanced at his notes and gave her the last name, “How about Jonathan Newsome, aka Johnny Napalm.”



She typed in the name, made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes, “Forty-six.”



“Try just the East Village addresses…”



“Okay…Nine.”



“He’s young.” Bobby said, visualizing the keyboardist, “Maybe early twenties…short stature, slight build…bright blue spiked hair.”



“No blue hair, but here’s a nineteen year old…rest of the physical fits…Jodie Lane Place address…What do you think?”



Goren got up and walked around the desks to stare at the picture on Eames’ computer, “Similar…I can’t be sure…The address seems right…It’s within a few blocks of the others...If there are warrants it’ll be worth a try.”



Alex scrolled down and found a single outstanding warrant for vandalism. She called the warrants in and while the detectives waited for the hard copies to arrive they continued transcribing and comparing their notes.



It must have been a busy day in clerical because they didn’t receive the warrant papers until sometime past two o’clock. After a brief discussion, they decided to head for the Saint Mark’s address first since the apartment was inhabited by three of the band members, Jarv, Kai, and Summer.



Jerry Karma Vishnu Davis, Jarv to his friends, smiled when he saw his friend Johnny standing among the crowd in Union Square that was listening to him sing. He finished the song with a flourish and thanked his small audience.



‘Hey, Napalm, How’s it going?” he said as he gathered the bills and coins from his open guitar case and replaced them with the instrument.



“Good, man…How’d you do?” his young friend replied.



“Not bad…Looks like more than a hundred…” the tall man with the Elvis hair-do responded, shoving the money into his pocket, “I LOVE tourist season…”



The friends chatted amiably and walked together to Washington Square Park. As they approached the entrance they could see a throng of people jostling for position and heard them gasp in horror and delight. They managed to shove their way in and get a good look just as their buddy Kai was performing his grand finale. They cheered wildly when the last two inches of a three foot broadsword entered his mouth.



Kai slowly removed the weapon from his esophagus, bowed and thanked the amazed crowd. Jarv and Johnny approached as he piled his various swords and fire sticks into an old keyboard case. He dumped the dirty water from a collapsible bucket and tossed it on top of his other tools before closing the battered black box.



“Hey” he nodded to his band mates, “Johnny? What’s up with your hair?”



The boy grinned, his bright blue hair framing his face like a bad Beatles cut. “The Liberty Spikes came unraveled. You think you could help me shape it again?”



“Yeah.” Kai answered, picking up his case and a small cage containing a medium-sized green snake, “This time we’ll use Superglue instead of Elmer’s.”



The trio started the trek to Tompkins Square Park and talked about street performing, tourist money, and how Johnny’s Mom was doing along the way. They found Summer far from her usual spot, perched on the back of a park bench strumming her acoustic guitar and singing a sweet ballad as though she actually enjoyed it. The scattered group around her clapped and a couple of them tossed money into the open guitar case at her feet. She smiled and thanked those who paid and acknowledged her friends.



“Hi Jarv…Johnny, little man, how’s it going?...Hey, Snake, I missed you…” she leaned toward the cage Kai was holding and made kissy noises at his pet.



“I love you, too.” Kai droned.



Summer laughed as she placed her guitar gently in its case and joined them for the walk back to the apartment on St. Marks to meet Andrew for band practice.



After driving in Friday afternoon traffic in an un-air-conditioned vehicle and walking up five flights in the sweltering stairwell, Eames was in no mood. She pounded on the door viciously after knocking twice with no answer.



“Come on, Eames, they’re not home.” Bobby said soothingly as he tried to steer her back toward the stairs.



For a moment he felt relieved. He knew they had to speak with these young people for the sake of the case, but Summer had been so forward and blatantly honest with him that morning. The last thing he wanted was for his partner to find out he’d slept with a witness.



There was a clamor in the foyer below and he stepped to the edge of the landing and looked over the rail. The band had just come in. Jarv was getting the mail from their box while Andrew, dressed in garbage man’s coveralls, led the procession up the stairs, trying to tell them about his day.



“So, you see, I opened this can and there, right on top with hardly any dirt on it was…”



That’s as far as he got before Kai, doing a great impression of Fred Schneider of the B-52s, sang in a quick-time syllabic beat. “Don’t you dig my Welfare t-shirt?”



“Found it in the trash!” the others joined in.



“No, come on, this is cool…” Andrew attempted.



Johnny joined in with his impression, “I sure love my platform flip-flops”



“Found ‘em in the trash!” sang his compadres.



Summer didn’t even wait for Andrew to protest before adding her verse, “Got an original Elvis demo…”



“Found it in the trash!”



Jarv jogged up behind them, singing loudly, “Got an ancient Egyptian Sarcophagus…”



“Found it in the trash!”



Andrew stopped short at the top of the stairs, almost causing a ‘Three Stooges’ moment when the others crashed into his back and nearly fell down the stairs. Alex stepped forward and introduced herself.



“I’m Detective Eames, this is my partner, Detective Goren…”



“We don’t talk to cops.” Andrew stated, staring the officers down and blocking the stairway.



Summer wiggled around the massive steroid monster as she muttered, “Shut up, Andrew. I hate you.” She pulled herself free of his bulk and smiled up at Bobby, “Hey, Bob-Robert!” then, with a cursory glance at his partner she added, “What’s shakin’ mange bacon?”



Goren swallowed hard as he realized she was still dressed as she had been when she left his apartment. He hoped Eames wouldn’t recognize the shirt. “We’d like t-to talk to you and your friends…about Star.”



“We DON’T talk to COPS!” Andrew repeated angrily.



Summer rolled her eyes and shouted, “Jarv!”



A set of keys flew over Andrew’s head from somewhere behind him and clattered to a stop just behind her. She bent down to pick them up, giving Bobby the briefest glimpse of lace panties. Before his heart stopped completely, he turned his attention to Kai. The young man was yelling at the drummer.



“You fucking idiot! They’re trying to find out who killed Star! We’re talking to them, so shut the fuck up!”



“Come in, detectives.” Summer said sweetly, standing with the door open.



Andrew shoved past them and stomped into the apartment. It was hard to miss the murderous look the young woman gave him as he passed her.



“Thank you.” Alex acknowledged her as she entered the younger woman’s home.



Summer smiled at Goren and ushered them inside. Eames was surprised by the cleanliness of the two-bedroom flat. The furnishings were obviously second-hand and the shelves and coffee table made from old lumber and concrete blocks, but the place looked clean and generally tidy. Jarv, Kai, and Summer placed their gear in what must have been intended to be a dining area, but was instead stacked with dozens of worn black instrument cases.



“Have a seat.” Kai offered genially, indicating the small space that passed for their living room.



There were two large windows, draped with a Union Jack and an American Flag for curtains, above a comfortable window seat; a long, rust-colored sofa, and a pair of mismatched wingchairs, one in shabby green velvet and the other in a blue and gold plaid.



“Wait!...Not there…” Summer cut in as Alex started to lower herself to the sofa. “Try the chairs.”



Noting the detective’s look of confusion, Jarv added, “The couch kinda smells…Andrew ‘found it in the trash.’”



Andrew stomped past the detectives and flopped onto the window seat with his arms folded across his chest, pouting. Kai, Summer and Jarv filled the sofa and Johnny sat on the floor beside them.



For a moment the only sound was the whir of the window air conditioner and the slight fluttering of our nation’s flag in its breeze. Summer gave Bobby an amorous look but stopped quickly when his posture stiffened and he coughed as he tore his gaze away.



Goren leaned on the bar that separated the tiny kitchen from the living room and forced his eyes wander, taking it all in as his partner began the interview. There she was, the whirlwind that so effortlessly turned him upside down, sitting on the sofa across from him with her head down and her delicate hand caressing the nape of her neck in a vain attempt to hide that beautiful, knowing smirk.



“So, you all…” Alex began.



Andrew let out a loud sigh. Eames cut him with a sharp glance and continued, “You all knew Star Morgan, correct?”



The drummer snorted and shifted in the window seat. Jarv leaned forward on the far end of the sofa and addressed the situation, “What the fuck, Andrew? You need some cream for your vagina? Stop sulking and do something to help somebody else for once in your life!” he turned his attention to the detective in the chair across from him and replied, “Yes. We knew her.”



“You were married?” she asked, looking at Kai with raised eyebrows.



“Yeah, for seven years. We got married right after high school. Both of us had parents that sucked. We were better off together, you know?” He answered as he scratched at the stubble on his shaved head, “We got divorced three years ago.”



Andrew laughed and added, “She switched teams…”



“You’d understand about that, wouldn’t you?” Jarv quipped and, when the big man tried to retort, punctuated the sentiment with, “Shut up, Faggot.”



“She’s still my best friend.” Kai continued sadly. “This was our apartment.”



“Were you aware that she suffered from Kleptomania?” Goren queried while touching the ashtray, photos, and all the other small items lined up on the bar.



The younger man nodded from his perch on the sofa. “Yeah, but it was never a big deal. Just little stuff, you know?”



Everyone silently agreed and Summer furthered the explanation, “When Jarv and I first moved to the city we were living in the van. Then we met Kai and Star, formed our first band and moved in here with them. It was great. Sure, stuff would disappear all the time…Pencils, bobby pins, toothbrushes…Every Sunday, when she’d go to brunch with her Mom, Kai would bring a bunch of pizza boxes out of their bedroom and dump them on the table. We’d just pick out our stuff and put it back.”



“Right.” Kai said, “Whatever was left, I’d try to figure out where she got it and take it back, or pay for it… I mean, it was mostly worthless junk, nobody ever got mad.”



Bobby tilted his head and looked at him earnestly, “You cared for her…tried to keep her out of trouble.”



“Of course.”



“Did you ever seek psychiatric help?” he prodded gently.



“You needed to.” Andrew put in abruptly, “Should’ve taken her straight to Bellevue. She’s was crazy…taking everybody’s shit…totally whacked…Yeah, cause…yeah, cause, yeah…”



Kai Hamlett leapt to his feet, his entire bald head crimson with rage, “You fucking fat bitch! I’ll kick you in your cunt! You’ve been with the band, what? Six months? You didn’t really know her…You don’t get to talk about Star…EVER! Get lost! Take a hike! You shouldn’t even be here for this…”



“FINE!” the drummer shouted, stamped past them and disappeared around the corner into the hall. A door slammed and Summer jumped to her feet.



“Oh, no you don’t!” she yelled as she clambered over her brother and rounded the same corner.



Bobby looked at a picture hanging on the wall next to him while they all listened to the sounds of pounding and screaming that echoed throughout the apartment from the tiny hallway.



“Get out of my room!...I’m serious Andrew…Unlock this door!”



The picture was a piece of needlepoint that read, ‘Live Free, Love Well, Laugh Often’ Goren touched its surface, it had an unusual texture. ‘Maybe hemp.’ He thought and took it off the wall to examine it more closely.



“STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF!!”



Summer’s shriek almost caused him to drop the small artwork, then he realized she was still shouting at her bedroom door.



“You’d better not be beating off in there!...Let me in, you bastard!...I swear to God, Andrew…”



Bobby gently replaced the picture on its hook and pointed toward the hallway, “Should I…?” he asked the remaining band members.



“Nah,” Johnny replied, “They do this all the time.”



“Yeah,” Jarv added, unconcernedly, “He goes in there, messes with all her crap, and whacks off on her pillow…She hates him.”



“I don’t blame her.” Eames muttered.



“I’ll kick your fucking ass down all five fucking flights of stairs!...Do you hear me, you son of a bitch?...Kai, get the bat!”



“Summer!” Kai screamed, “Shut up! This is not finding out who took Star from us!”



Summer reappeared looking very apologetic, “Oh, God…Kai, I’m sorry…” she said softly as she went to her friend and hugged him, “Andrew just pisses me off so much.”



“I know.” He patted her back reassuringly, “If he wasn’t such a great drummer…”



“And if he didn’t owe me five hundred bucks…” Jarv put in.



“He owes you money?” Summer turned to her brother, getting angry again, “I loaned him four hundred two weeks ago…”



Goren watched with interest and the memory of her rapid change of emotion during his interview resurfaced. ‘Not bipolar,’ he thought, ‘passionate.’ It took a Herculean effort for him to suppress the grin that tried to surface.



“Really?” Johnny asked, surprised, “I gave him two hundred yesterday…”



“Yeah, yeah,” Kai said dismissively, “Andrew’s a dick-smack and he owes everybody money.”



He sat back down on the sofa and looked up at his friends, almost pleading, “Can we please get back to Star?” his fingers absently traced the solid black five point star tattoo on his chest, just above his heart. “I want to know who did this.” He shifted his gaze to Goren, “And if possible, my Louisville Slugger and I would like a few moments alone with the prick.”



Alex decided to ignore the comment and use the precious moments of relative calm to continue the interview, “We understand that Star may have had a girlfriend…Did any of you ever meet her?”



“No,” Kai replied, “She never brought her girlfriends over until they’d been together a while. She liked outsiders, you know, normal chicks. She thought we’d scare ‘em off if she didn’t get them used to the idea first.”



“Well…” Johnny spoke up timidly.



“You met her girlfriend?” Eames encouraged the young man.



“Not exactly…”he said, “I saw Star walking with a woman in midtown. I said Hi, but Star acted like she didn’t know me.”



“When was this?” Bobby asked.



“About two or three weeks ago.”



“Can you describe the woman?”



Johnny scrunched up his face in concentration, “Taller than Star…maybe 5’ 6”…Blond…Not all that pretty…Kinda boring looking…They were holding hands.”



“How was she dressed?” Alex prompted.



“Classy…a suit like the ones my mom wears to work. She’s a secretary…My mom, I mean…”



At that moment the front door burst open and a rotund red haired man in his fifties entered carrying a toolbox and not wearing a shirt. Eames had to turn away. He was the palest and hairiest fat man she’d ever seen.



“Hey Chuy.” Jarv greeted the newcomer, “What are you doing here?”



“You said your sink was broken.” He replied, walking toward the kitchen.



“I thought you were gonna do that this morning.” Jarv responded.



“Couldn’t. I had to get the cops over here to evict those losers in 3C.” the man, who was obviously the building super, answered, “Then; Mrs. Kroft’s grandson flushed a sweater. Damn toilet was flooding all over…dripped clear through to the second floor.”



“Well, could you at least put on a shirt? Nobody wants to see that…” the tenant grinned at him.



“Ha-ha, kid.” Chuy said as he dug in his toolbox for a wrench. “Good thing you’re my favorite tenants.”



“We pay our rent on time.” Summer stated.



“That’s all it takes, doll-face.” He grinned at her before he sank below the level of the counter.



“Seriously, Mr. Meara” Jarv prodded good naturedly, “If Ron Jeremy and Chewbacca had a kid…”



Alex coughed to stifle her laughter and quickly regained her composure, “I think that’s all we need for now. If you can think of anything else that might help us…”



“We’ll call.” Summer said with a smile and rose to show them to the door.



As they left the apartment, Bobby turned back briefly and whispered, “Thank you, Summer. For helping and for…um…not s-saying anything a-about…”



“Not a problem.” She whispered back with a smile and a wink. The door closed and, just for a moment, Bobby heard that strange tune he couldn’t quite recall humming through his brain.



He shook it off and joined his partner on the stairs.



“What a circus.” She observed.



Goren chuckled and said, “They’re an interesting group…”