Detective Lou Willis was not happy. He had been ordered by Captain O’Donnell to visit a very successful but retired local detective and ask for help. Unfortunately the Ovation Police Department was stumped and needed fresh eyes at the scene. If only it could be someone else’s eyes Detective Willis thought, he wouldn’t have to put up with an impossible egomaniac; a certifiable pain in the ass.
Reginald Asbury-Smyth had arrived at Ovation some twenty years before, a transplant from the Oxford area in England. His very rich aunt had left him a sizeable inheritance, including land and property in the area. He decided to make a career move and live in a more posh lap of luxury. Unfortunately for Detective Willis, Reggie was also hired on as lead detective in the Ovation law enforcement community. Years of holding his tongue, tempering complaints, and hiding from the man as much as he could was indicative of what Willis’s career had been since then. Reggie’s retirement was a heavily attended celebration. Everyone wanted to be sure he was out the door.
Detective Asbury-Smyth was quite self-absorbed and determined to be right at all costs. The problem was that the man had one of the most successful records of closing cases of anyone up to that time. He was a cross between Sherlock Holmes and a British television detective by the name of Morse. A short temper, constant demands for his squad to repeatedly review details of a case, and disrespectful to his fellow officers; that was, in a nutshell, Reggie.
The unmarked police car pulled up to the curb in a quiet older neighborhood in Ovation. Lou sat for a moment and let his eyes wander around the yard of the huge Victorian mansion, a big part of the inheritance bounty. Flowers of every imaginable type, bushes, trees, and hedges decorated the front. The grass was trimmed and the entire place was immaculate.
Well, the old boy is really getting into his hobby it looks like, Willis thought.
Reggie was a lifelong arborist, horticulturalist, botanist, and any other name that he could come up with when bragging about his retired life style.
The detective got out of the car and let his brown leather coat stay open, covering his ever-present shoulder holster and gun. His jeans and boots gave him the unmistakable look of a cop. He drew the line at growing the macho mustache however.
Willis didn’t bother going to the front door, but walked around the side and toward an immensely sized green house. He heard a noise toward the back of the structure and entered. The air was stifling and Willis removed his sports coat immediately. The place was filled with all kinds of plants and flowers floor to ceiling. A nuisance hobby, Willis thought. Give me bowling or golfing or boating anytime.
Willis could see Reggie leaning over something on a table. A contraption of magnifying glasses in front of him. He was talking quietly to someone although Willis couldn’t see who it might be.
Willis cleared his throat loudly to announce his presence.
Reggie jumped.
“Confound it man, can’t you see I’m busy? Why didn’t you knock?” Reggie turned and barked.
The wild haired Asbury-Smith was a spitting image of Albert Einstein. The big bushy poorly managed mustache, the mouthful of crooked teeth, a large protruding nose and big ears were part of his unusual looks. It is little wonder that he was a sixty something year old bachelor. Horrid looks and intolerable, Lou thought, kept the ladies at bay. The portly man was wearing a canvas looking pair of pants, a tweed sweater, and covering it all was a workman’s bib apron with the saying I love gardening, it makes it easier to hid the bodies. Probably a retirement gift.
“I did just announce myself and a green house door doesn’t exactly make a loud racket when I rap on it.” Willis explained, disgusted that he should have to defend his entrance.
“I am in the middle of a very delicate cross pollination of my beautiful Phalaenopsis and my Oncidium. Reggie railed. “A mistake must not be made and this procedure needs my full undivided attention.”
“Phaleo, what?” Willis said.
“Orchids, man, orchids. I wouldn’t expect you to know that, old boy. I imagine you have trouble identifying dandelions.” The obnoxious Reggie quipped. He looked down his nose at Willis then turned back toward the table.
“Now my little darlings, I expect beautiful offspring from your effort. Rest now and I shall return.” He said to his flowers.
“The most delicate of flowers, and the most unforgiving if not cared for properly. Much like women.” Reggie added.
What would this old fogey know about women, Detective Willis thought, I doubt he had ever had an adventure with the opposite sex. No woman could stand his condescending attitude.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion, Willis, I’m a busy man.” Reggie said.
“It has to do with a death at Oak Park, I thought the department had sent over a packet of information to you. The Captain asked me to find out what you thought about the situation.” Willis answered.
“Packet, what packet, oh yes, it’s somewhere in the house, but I haven’t had time to look at it. Can’t your bungling crew solve anything? Sometimes I doubt if the department could order a piss-up at a brewery. Just give me the quick facts, man.” Reggie demanded.
Willis explained that body of a middle aged man, George Lassiter, had been found face down in a small patio garden area. A three prong gardening hand rake was imbedded deeply into his chest, but it was determined the garden tool had nothing to do with the death as it appeared the man was suddenly in the throes of a quick death and fell on the rake. The coroner had ruled out heart attack and stroke but found some unusual chemistry in the blood. He couldn’t pinpoint the substance with his antique laboratory equipment.
“I shall be along shortly, I assume the crime scene or perhaps death scene has be compromised by heavy shoed police and emergency people. Am I correct?” Reggie said with a sniff.
“I can’t answer that, but will meet you there after I follow up on a few more leads. The address and other information is in the packet. You can figure out how to find your destination yourself from that.” Willis said with a feeling of one-upmanship.
“Oh very well, but must I remind the Captain, and the department, that I am retired. I do wish he would find some ample replacement for me so I may get on with my life.” Reggie stated and walked toward his big house.
The journey began when Reggie was good and ready to head out to Oak Park. A pleasant day for a drive, Reggie thought. Reggie’s Aston Martin DB6 purred as he sped down the road. The auto was a bit of a big spend, Reggie thought, but American cars didn’t have the class of this vehicle. They were all about sparkle and shine. This was a true driving machine.
I’m glad the department still thinks I have my skills and deductive reasoning intact, Reggie thought as he accelerated the Aston Martin into a tight corner of the road. Still it’s fun to make Willis squirm, my favorite thing to do, he thought then actually smiled. He’ll make a fine detective. Someday.
He slowed the sports car when he viewed the Oak Park sign, down shifted, and drove through the gated entrance.
He noted an Oregon White Oak Reserve, wonderful. Washington’s only native oak was disappearing from the Puget Trough area. It was good to see someone cared.
An assortment of trees dotted the long divided drive entrance. Mountain ash, leaf maples, cedar, dogwood, hornbeam, and one lonely chinquapin.
Low lying Evergreen huckleberries, Isanti Dogwoods, rhododendrons, descampsia grass and azaleas had been tastily planted along the sidewalks along with northwest native plants like the Oregon grape, snow bush, licorice and maidenhair ferns, yarrow, and tufted hair grass. Very impressive.
Reggie thought he should tip his hat to the landscape planners. Everything was hardy, low maintenance, and showy. It could perhaps, he sniffed, certainly use a larger splash of color. I should invite the principals to my residence to see how a perfect area is established and kept. Yes, I shall do that, he decided.
Reggie parked his car next to a cordoned off area and walked to the house. He noted each home sported Thuja that would act as a visual barrier between driveways. Excellent choice. He entered the home and was led to the backyard by a uniformed policewoman.
The old ex-detective wandered around the garden and patio back area. He stopped to look at and admire many of the plants. He studied the layout, the sun and shade pivot points and the water spritz system that had been crudely put together.
“Officer, bring the widow out so that I may talk with her.” Reggie said.
The policewoman was looking at her cell phone.
“Now, madam, if it is not too much trouble.” Reggie ordered in a slightly louder voice.
The young woman rolled her eyes and hustled into the house. Soon she reappeared with a salt and peppered haired middle aged woman. She was plain and, what the old boy decided, was perfectly unhandsome. She wore baggy blue jeans and an oversized man’s short sleeved shirt.
“Ah, you must be in charge”, the woman said to Reggie, “whenever might you move out so I may tend to my garden? You people have trampled and mashed a perfectly beautiful setting. It needs watering badly.”
“Mrs. Lassiter, I assume.” Reggie said ignoring the irritating question.
“I want you to go through, in detail, exactly what happened prior to your husband’s death.” Reggie demanded.
The woman sighed, shook her head and growled under her breath, “Once more for you idiots.”
She explained that she and her husband had almost finished their lunch, tomato soup, and a tossed salad when her husband got up from the table, announced he felt dizzy and a little sick. She suggested he step outside and get a little fresh air. When she had finished her meal and George hadn’t returned she walked off the porch and saw him lying on top of her prize Delphiniums. He wasn’t moving and she felt for a pulse. The woman explained she then ran back into the house and called 911. The arriving medics announced that her husband was indeed dead. The coroner arrived and did whatever coroners do then hauled him away.
Reggie studied the woman, who seemed to show no emotion indicating a terrible loss.
“You have a beautiful yard and garden.” Reggie said changing the subject.
The woman immediately perked up her demeanor.
“I was voted “Best Yard in Oak Park” two years in a row.” The woman said and pointed to a couple of plaques hanging on a nearby wall.
“It looks as if you and your husband have put a tremendous amount of work into the project.” Reggie hinted.
“George wouldn’t lift a finger to help in the yard. It was all my work.” She said proudly as she extended her arms out at the entire expanse.
“He would sit on the patio, drinking beer and telling anyone who would visit that over my dead body am I going to crawl around in the dirt.” She snorted.
The old detective seemed to ignore the negative conversation and spoke to the woman.
“I would like you to guide me around the garden, these flowers fascinate me.” Reggie suggested.
It didn’t take much prompting for Mrs. Lassiter to start the private tour. She pointed out each item, spouted many of the genus and species labels for each plants as well as their common name.
“Oh, and what is this beautiful plant?” Reggie asked when they stopped in one section off the main patio.
“That is called Queen Anne Lace, in fact the leaves are so succulent that they may be picked, washed, and put into any salad. They have a very sweet taste. In fact, George insisted I mix them into his salads.” She explained.
“Oh, I shall like to try one myself.” Reggie said as he stooped down to pluck a large leaf.”
“No, you don’t want to do that.” Mrs. Lassiter said as she tried to steer the old detective away.
“Now why is that, madam?” Reggie asked.
“Well, you don’t, I mean, you shouldn’t” she sputtered.
“You know the reason, Mrs. Lassiter, and so do I.” Reggie said evenly.
“This is not a Queen Anne Lace. It is an exact look alike of that plant called Poison Hemlock.” Reggie said pointedly.
The woman paled and sighed.
“You carefully mixed the Poison Hemlock leaves into your husbands salad knowing full well what results would ensue.” Reggie concluded.
“You executed your plan to murder your husband.” The old detective added.
“That bastard got his wish, it was finally over his dead body that he ended up in the dirt.” The woman said without remorse.
Then she started to laugh like a crazy person.
“Young lady, please handcuff this woman and take her away. She will be charged with murder.” Reggie ordered to the policewoman standing a short distance away with her jaw slacked.
Reggie Asbury-Smyth backed his car out of the driveway and sped down the street. He surmised that most of the houses along these streets would fit into his living room, drawing room, office and dining room. The old Victorian until I die, he reaffirmed to himself.
He turned left and slowly headed toward the entrance, again thinking an abundance of flowers would certainly soften the area.
“I shall get home to see how my darlings are doing in the green house.” He said quietly to himself.
The Aston-Martin with Reginald Asbury-Smyth at the wheel sped down the road. Another case closed.
Left To Write 