If Looks Could Kill
If Looks Could Kill
By Rekha Ambardar
Copyright 2012 by Rekha Ambardar
Cover Copyright 2012 by Dara England and Untreed Reads Publishing
The author is hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright. Either the publisher (Untreed Reads) or author may enforce copyrights to the fullest extent.
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to the living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Also by Rekha Ambardar and Untreed Reads Publishing
False Alarm
Parting Shot
http://www.untreedreads.com
IF LOOKS COULD KILL
By Rekha Ambardar
“This takes me back to my chemistry class lab,” Detective Deb Summers said to her assistant, Police Officer Tony Davis, as they entered the Lovelace Cosmetics lab. It was a mammoth area equipped with the usual laboratory paraphernalia—Erlenmeyer flasks, burettes, and microscopes. The place smelled of a combination of petunias and cold medicine, and Summers rubbed her nose. She was allergic to fragrance and hoped she wouldn’t end up with watery, itchy eyes.
Near his desk, they found Carter Hoffman, one of the biochemists of Lovelace Cosmetics, dead on the floor. He had been hit over the head with a microscope sometime last night. The desk was strewn with sheets of paper with calculations and doodles, an open bound lab notebook, and sharpened pencils.
The detective and Officer Davis stepped aside as the evidence team did their delicate job of examining Hoffman.
“Nothing’s sacred these days. The man works on his latest invention and gets slugged from behind,” Summers said. “We’ll need to talk to whoever saw him last.” She looked around to see if she could spot anyone who might know him.
“I’ve called in Lillian Lovelace, the founder of the company,” Officer Davis said.
As soon as he spoke, a striking, dark-haired woman in her forties walked in.
“I’m Lillian Lovelace,” the woman said. She looked pale but controlled. “Carter was my top biochemist. He was working on a breakthrough anti-aging cream.” Lillian shook her head. “This must be the work of that rat Vince Gallegos. He must have sneaked in when Carter was working.” She glanced at Hoffman lying there and shuddered. Then she folded her arms tightly as if she was cold.
“You’d better step this way, ma’am,” Summers said, and moved away from the vicinity of the desk. “We’d like to ask you a few questions. Who’s Vince Gallegos?”
“My biggest competitor, the CEO of Morning Dew Cosmetics,” Lillian said loftily. She was perfectly made up, down to the beauty spot near her finely chiseled mouth. The beauty spot seemed to be her signature brand in the pictures Summers had seen of Lovelace in magazines.
“How many entrances are there?” Summers asked, glancing at the lab section and glass-enclosed cubicles that looked like offices off to one side.
“There’s an outside entrance. The inside door leads to other offices,” Lillian said, nodding toward the main entrance from the lab into the building. “The whole facility is on the ground floor, as you can see.”
“The victim could open the door to someone he knew?” Summers asked.
Lillian shrugged. “I suppose. Vince was trying to get Carter to work for him, the snake. Just when the anti-aging cream would have brought Lovelace Cosmetics millions in revenue,” she said. “Vince thought I didn’t know.”
“Who were his most recent visitors?” Summers asked. Talented young biotech star that Hoffman was, he must have had a gazillion enemies.
“There was Kate Daly, Vince’s assistant, who had a bad crush on Carter,” Lillian explained. “Kate would often come here under some pretext or other. Mostly she was sent by Vince. Industrial espionage, if you ask me.”
“We’ll call in Ms. Daly,” Officer Davis said. He pulled out a cell phone and stepped away to make the call to Morning Dew Cosmetics.
It didn’t take long for Kate to get there. “Who could have done this?” Kate wailed, and glared accusingly at Lillian. Her red nails clutching a facial tissue were long and ready to gouge Lillian’s eyes out.
“You tell me,” Lillian said tartly. Lillian towered over the petite Kate, and seemed to savor her advantage. “He was my prize biochemist.”
“You were robbing the cradle and you know it,” Kate said.
Were the two women in competition for the victim’s attention? Summers wondered.
“When did you see Mr. Hoffman last?” Summers asked Kate.
“I didn’t. I only talked to him on the phone,” Kate replied.
Summers told Kate that they needed to talk to her boss, Vince Gallegos. Officer Davis left a message at Gallegos’s office.
Gallegos, a tall man with a nasal voice, came in a half-hour later. “Okay I admit I was trying to get Carter to work for me. But I didn’t kill him. The last time I saw him was three days ago.” He shot a piercing look at Lillian.
Obviously no love lost between them, Summers thought. This was what happened when two big competitors butted heads. Where was civilized behavior anymore? Summers shook her head to jolt herself out of her thoughts.
After questioning Gallegos, Detective Summers and her assistant moved to Hoffman’s desk to examine the papers on it.
The bound lab notebook caught the detective’s attention. Hoffman had been meticulous in recording his experiments. Summers thumbed through the pages, which showed names, dates, procedure, and results of the experiments.
“Hoffman kept good records,” the detective said. Then she noticed the figure fifty thousand dollars written in numerals with a thick, black pencil on a blank page.
She picked up the pencils on the desk and examined their points, which were all thin.
Officer Davis scrutinized the writing. “Why would Hoffman use a different instrument to write that figure?” he asked.
“Because he didn’t write it,” Summers said. “It was an offer made to him that he apparently refused.”
“Who made the offer and why?” Davis asked, looking puzzled.
“Think about this scenario,” Summers said, a hand to her head as if deep in thought. “Hoffman threatens to leave Lovelace Cosmetics. Whether he really means it or not doesn’t matter, because he has an agenda.”
“Agenda?”
“When he threatens to leave, Lillian writes down the amount of money she’s prepared to offer, but he laughs in her face. He wants more. Maybe he wants a partnership and a ‘personal arrangement’ with Lovelace.”
“And when he refuses she clubs him with the microscope,” Davis said.
“Lovelace writes down the amount with the black eyebrow pencil she uses for her signature beauty spot,” Summers explained.
Davis flipped open his cell phone. “Time to call headquarters and then move in on Lovelace.”
The ubiquitous pencil was found in Lovelace’s possession. She was calm and dignified as she accompanied Summers and Davis to the cruiser.
She turned and gave Lovelace Cosmetics a last look as they drove away, and then looked ahead of her with a deadpan expression.
Rekha Ambardar, If Looks Could Kill
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