And a Puzzle to Die On (25 page)

“How much money?”

“Two hundred dollars.”

“Two hundred dollars? Good lord, Sherry. You mean you sent the check? You signed the sister’s name to a money order?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what
did
you do?”

“I went to Becky Baldwin, asked her if she had anything you could work on. Of course, she didn’t. She has a small practice, does most of her own work. I prodded her, so she came up with this. She’d had a phone call from a woman who wanted to get her brother out of jail. For two hundred bucks she’d agreed to look into it, make a recommendation. The money order’d just arrived in the mail. Becky was planning on visiting the guy in prison. That seemed perfect. I said, let you do it. She said, no way, it was a two-hundred-buck job, she wanted the two hundred bucks. I said, fine, I’d give her two hundred bucks to pay you to do it.”

“Oh, for—”

“It was a birthday present.”

“How is it a birthday present if I don’t even know I’ve got it?”

“You knew you had it. You just didn’t know who gave it to you.”

“I didn’t know
anyone
gave it to me. When were you planning on telling me? My birthday’s over.”

“Your birthday ended with a murder. That kind of preempted things.”

“Like telling me what you’d done?”

Sherry said nothing.

“You weren’t gonna, were you? Not if you didn’t have to. So how is that a present? I’d never know you gave it to me.”

“Does that make it any less of a gift?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I gotta sort this out.
Jesus Christ, Sherry, help me here. Just how much of all this are you responsible for?”

“Nothing. I got Becky to hire you, and that’s it.”

“You didn’t embellish it in any way?”

“Like what?”

“The rock through our window, for instance. You didn’t get someone to throw that rock?”

“Through our living room window? Get serious.”

“You didn’t pay someone to follow me in a car?”

“Hell, no.”

“No, of course not. ’Cause the woman with the dog wound up dead. Now how does that make any sense?”

“I don’t know, but you better figure it out fast.”

“Why?”

In the driveway, a police car screeched to a stop.

Chief Harper was remarkably calm. “I didn’t expect to find you ladies up.”

“We’re not only up, we’ve made coffee.” Sherry led him into the kitchen. “There happens to be a cup left.”

“I’m glad to hear it. The fact there’s a cup left. Not the fact you’re up.”

Cora, seated at the kitchen table, said, “What’s the matter, Chief? Don’t you ever get up at six in the morning?”

Chief Harper slid into a chair opposite Cora. “I’m up now. But I’ve had some sleep. I didn’t go rushing off to Danbury last night to burgle a dead man’s office.”

Cora smiled. “I don’t want to pull wordplay on you, Chief, but doesn’t
burgle
mean to take something?”

“It’s a matter of intent. If you
meant
to steal something, it’s burglary. But you’re right. I believe in this case you’re merely charged with criminal trespass.” The chief included Sherry in his gaze. “Both of you, I understand.”

“Now, don’t go blaming Sherry,” Cora said.

“Oh, don’t worry. I think I know who to blame.” He dumped milk and sugar in his coffee. “It’s my understanding the Danbury police confiscated a set of keys.”

“Oh.”

“Now there’s a choice comment. May I quote you on that?”

Cora said nothing, lit another cigarette.

“One of those keys opened Burnside’s office, which is not surprising, since that’s where you were found. You have any comment on that?”

“I’d like to help you, Chief. But my attorney has advised me to refer all inquiries to her.”

“I’d hate to wake Becky up on such a minor matter. So never mind telling me about the keys, I’ll tell you. The rest were for various doors in his private home. His home being a third-floor walkup in the suburbs of Danbury. One key was for the front door, one key was for the kitchen door, one key was for the garbage.”

“The garbage?”

“The Dumpster in the alley was locked. Why, I don’t even want to begin to speculate. One of the keys unlocked it. You weren’t aware of this?”

“How could I be?”

“I was just wondering if you dropped in on the gentleman’s apartment before you tried his office.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what you’re looking for. I was just wondering if you did.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that, Chief.”

Harper frowned for the first time. “You’re gonna take that attitude?”

Cora smiled. “If I answer some questions, it’s not gonna fool you much when I refuse to answer others.”

“But if you didn’t do it …?”

“Exactly. I didn’t do it, so I say I didn’t do it. Then you ask me something else and I say I can’t comment.”

“God save me.” Chief Harper leaned on the kitchen table. “I’m going to tell you the situation. Then you can decide if you want to comment, or you want to wake up Becky Baldwin. The Danbury police searched Burnside’s apartment and they didn’t find anything of interest. They also searched his office, with the same result. Of course, there they had the disadvantage of being the second ones to search it.”

“So what? Sherry and I didn’t take anything.”

“No, you didn’t. You were interrupted before you had a chance to.”

“Whereupon the police searched the office. And found nothing. Because there was nothing to find. You’re beating a dead horse, Chief.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“I’ll ask Becky Baldwin. If there is, I’ll be in touch.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Now, would you like to know why I’m calling on you before the sun rises?”

“You like our coffee?”

“No, I like you. I would hate very much for you to get in trouble.”

“So would I.”

“Which is why I would like to give you one last opportunity to tell me anything significant that might have happened in Danbury last night.”

“Can’t think of a thing,” Cora said.

“I can. Nine-one-one call about four
A.M.
Report of a break-in. Police investigated, found the owner dead.”

“Natural causes?”

“Throat cut. Bled like a stuck pig. All over her living room rug.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You like murders. I thought it might interest you.”

“Sure, Chief. Sherry and I were just sitting here hoping you would come in and tell us a story.”

“The woman had a dog.”

“Big dog?”

“No, a small dog. Toy poodle. The dog was very upset, as you might expect. Ran all around the room. Trotted through the blood.”

“Sounds messy.”

“It was. Left bloody footprints all over the floor. Except for one spot. Right by the coffee table. A gap, about a yard wide. Where the tracks leave off and then pick up.”

“Maybe the dog jumped.”

Chief Harper shook his head. “Too wide. It’s a little dog. No, it ran over something. Something that moved. Something that’s not there now.”

“Like the killer?”

“That’s what the Danbury police thought. Then they tried to figure why the killer would lie down next to the corpse. One of the cops laid down and looked, and, wouldn’t you know it, there’s a message written on the bottom of the coffee table in blood.”

“Like a bad mystery.”

“Exactly.”

“And what was the message scrawled in blood? Was it the killer’s name?”

“Not unless the killer’s name is Dud.”

“That hardly seems likely.”

“Upon closer examination, the initial
D
in
Dud
appears to have been altered, either accidentally or intentionally, from some other letter. Most likely a
B
. Which would make the killer’s name Bud.”

“That’s still pretty far-fetched.”

“Yeah, but a lot more likely than Dud. Anyway, it raised the question, why was the
B
changed to
D
? Was it done deliberately, to throw us off the track? Or was it done accidentally, perhaps by someone brushing against it with their head.”

“Interesting theory.”

“I notice you washed your hair, Cora. Isn’t that a little unusual for someone who’s been up all night? Wouldn’t that be the last thing on your mind?”

“That sounds like a song lyric, Chief.”

“Are those scratches on your ankles? It looks like something scratched your legs.”

“You’re a married man, Chief. You shouldn’t be noticing a woman’s legs.”

“You have any comment to make on any of this?”

“Sounds like the Danbury police have their hands full.”

“I’m giving you a chance to come clean. You know anything about this second murder?”

“You haven’t even told me who the victim is.”

“Name’s Valerie Thompkins. Ring a bell?”

“Why don’t you ring it for me.”

“That’s the license plate you had me trace. Of the car that was allegedly following you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. And there is
absolutely
nothing to connect Valerie Thompkins’s murder with the murder of the private investigator, Burnside.” His eyes grew hard. “Except for one thing. His license-plate number happens to be the one you gave me to trace yesterday afternoon.”

“Oops.”

“Isn’t that a nice howdy-do. You give me license-plate
numbers to trace, and the owners of the cars wind up dead.”

“There’s absolutely no connection.”

“I’m glad you’re so sure. But I can’t take the chance. It so happens you gave me
three
license-plate numbers. I had the Danbury police check out the address of one Ida Blaine. They’re dying to know why.”

“How is the young lady?”

“I’m assuming if she were dead, I’d have heard. So, if I were you, I’d have a nice, long talk with Becky Baldwin. Be sure you cover withholding evidence and conspiring to conceal a crime. You might want to touch on accessory after the fact. Then, if either of you have anything to tell me, I’d be more than happy to listen.”

Chief Harper pushed back his coffee, got up, and stalked out.

“Well, of all the nerve!” Cora fumed.

“Give the man a break,” Sherry said. “He’s a friend, but he’s the chief of police. He can’t cover up a murder.”

“Oh,
that
. I’m not mad about that. It’s what he said about the dog jumping over the person on the floor.” Cora snorted angrily. “A yard wide, indeed!”

Becky Baldwin was incredulous. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“I’ve done worse,” Cora told her.

“I’m sure you have. I mean telling me about it. You know what you’ve done? You’ve made me an accessory to murder.”

“No such thing. You’re only an accessory if you aid someone who’s guilty. I happen to be innocent.”

“You may be innocent of the murder, but you’re guilty of obstruction of justice. Appropriating checks. Rubbing out dying messages. At two separate crime scenes, no less.”

“Burnside’s office isn’t a crime scene.”

“Oh, excuse me. I suppose stealing his keys doesn’t count.”

“It shouldn’t. The police have those keys. There’s no harm done.”

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“Then you should never have passed the bar. I got
news for you. Most clients are guilty. I’m a breath of fresh air.”

Cora was smoking. Becky had been too upset to notice. Reminded, she pointed to the window.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cora got up, flung the window open, came back, and sat down. “You were saying?”

“I wasn’t saying anything. I was sitting here dumbfounded that you would pull such a cockamamy stunt and then lie to the police about it.”

“I didn’t lie to the police about it. I said I couldn’t make any statements until I talked to my lawyer. Okay, I’ve talked to my lawyer. What’s your advice?”

“You should have lied to the police about it.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Only slightly. If you’d lied to the police, I couldn’t contradict you. Now any statement you make is with my blessing.”

“What statement do you advise me to make?”

“None. I advise you to shut the hell up.”

“Channel 8 news crew’s in town. Rick Reed is going to want something.”