Broad, fenstrated leaves dripped moisture. Something green and spidery brushed Det. Hank Langdon’s cheek. Tripping over his partner Det. Hen Ball, he yelped in an unmanly fashion. Ball collided with a trio of surprisingly sharp snake plants. She cursed. During the pandemic her daughter collected a windowsill full of cacti. Ball wondered how much stress the Superintendent had to need this slice of heaven to escape to.

“There she is you clumsy bastard,” Hen Ball said pointing at Superintendent Rowena Wainwright in the center of sunroom.

“After you, Princess. Pearls before swine.”

Wainwright was crocheting in a rocking chair surrounded by lush foliage. Along with the new mayor, Wainwright supported urban renewel in the old city center. Ball and Langdon remembered with the Superintendent’s residence had been an bank then a pharmacy, and then a Zak’s Burgers. The two detectives were amazed at the transformation of a coarse block of bricks to a minimalist urban oasis. This hot pocket of green must have costed a fortune.

“Detectives, come into my lair said the the spider to the fly,” Wainwright said with a dry chuckle.

Langdon whispered to his partner, “If she asks us to find Sean Regan, I’m out of here.”

Ball ignored his movie reference to focus on their boss. The room was hottest here. Condensation collected on the many panes of wavy old glass magnifying the overhead sunlight into furious rainbows. Wainwright had been pressuring them to close the Paint By Number killer case quickly. They had caught a suspect but were convinced there was a mastermind behind the scenes pulling their suspect’s strings. The detectives flanked their superior officer. Jungle heat pressed against Ball’s throat.

Without inviting them to have a seat on the vintage garden furniture, Wainwright continued to work her granny squares ignoring their presence. She talked without looking up.

“A little birdie has told me you have a suspect in custody. Excellent work, detectives. I’m glad you’ve resolved this scounge on our city.”

“Yes, we are working to build an airtight case now,” Landgon said brightly. "we don’t want any last mintue surprises slipping out from behind the curtain, do we?”

Ball admired the exotic plants, the irrigation system, the grow lights, the flick of the wool racing through the Super’s fingers. She appreciated a well-played power move.

“The press, the defense lawyers, and every true crime podcaster in the tri state area will be combing over the details, ma’am. Better safe than sorry, ma’am,” Ball said and took a seat.

Wainwright gave Ball a sharp look. Knowing when to avoid trouble, Langdon focused on a suggestive orchid growing on a moss ball suspended from the glass ceiling. A skittish maid brought in a tray of cold drinks. She looked from Ball to Wainwright for direction. Wainwright gave the servant a nod. Ball helped herself to the tray. The maid skirted over to Lanngdon and then hurried off.

“Ma’am you wouldn’t be able to shed into light on this case. This killer had access to many sites around the city. All sites represented by McConnell Realty,” Ball said before draining her iced tea.

“We noticed the sold by McConnell’s sign out front and wondered if you could get farther with the fancies than a pair of flat feet,” Langdon saluted the orchid with his diet Pepsi and sat the drink down untouched.

A metal crochet hook clattered to the flagstones. Wainwright set down her needlework. Shivering despite the heat, Ball imagined Wainwright as a giant praying mantis.

“Thank you in advance, ma’am. Let’s go Hank. Nasty things, their flesh is too much like the flesh of men.”

With a chuckle, Hank tapped one of the fleshy orchids and followed his partner out to the fresh cool air of the city.