Murder in the Winter (4 page)

4

Quickly, I came to my senses and realized our murderer
had struck. I jumped to my feet, pulled out my badge, and hollered, “I’m Lt.
Dekker, Hilldale Police Department! Don’t anyone move! This man has had a heart
attack.”

From the looks on their faces the whole lot of them
looked guilty. Either that or they were sick from the food and my yelling didn’t
help matters. I motioned for Lou to check out the kitchen and keep everyone
there in place. I walked past Lou’s chair and felt for a pulse. Miles Mycroft
was definitely doornail dead, whatever that is.

I asked the guests to go to their rooms and told them
I’d let them know when it was okay to return to the table. Then, I asked Mrs.
Longworth to return to her quarters, while I kept her husband at hand. She
didn’t seem pleased, but she complied. I asked Longworth how many exits the inn
had and was surprised when he told me only three. I expected an inn that size
to have more, but it was originally built as a home and for some reason the
current building codes didn’t apply to existing structures. I had Longworth
show me how to dial an outside line, then motioned for him to join his wife. As
he walked away, I told him I would let him know when he could return.

Neither of the chefs wanted to leave the kitchen, but
our server didn’t mind. After firing off a couple of verbal rounds, Lou and I
were able to convince the twosome to do so.  As far as I was concerned, every
place in and about the inn was a crime scene. After making sure everything was
secure, I hurried back to the phone and dialed Lt. Michaelson’s number. I knew
he wasn’t on duty at that time of night, but I knew he would come.

“George. Cy.”

“Why hello, Cy. How’s retirement treating you?”

“Okay up until today. I’m unretired now. Lou and I are
at the Overlook Inn. There’s been a murder. Can you round up as many men as
possible and come out here and help us? This place is so large it might take us
a while to find our murderer.”

“I was just sitting here with my wife in front of a
cozy fireplace, but I’m sure I’d rather tackle the blinding snowstorm and join
you and Lou.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, George, the snow
stopped falling last night. Oh, and by the way, on your way out could you stop
by the Blue Moon Diner and fetch Lou and me some food.”

“That place where you are doesn’t have food?”

“It does, but the stove’s broken. It won’t take you
long. Just tell Thelma who you are and who the food is for. And feel free to
get something for yourself. I’ll pay for it.”

“Oh, you’ll pay for it all right, but not my dinner.
My wife and I have already eaten, and unlike some people, I only eat one dinner
a night.”

I thanked him for his kindhearted gesture, then hung
up and dialed Frank Harris’s number. Frank is the medical examiner.

“Hello, Frank.”

“Your voice sounds familiar. Don’t tell me. Let me
guess.”

“You and George should take your act on the road.
You’d be a big hit in Poughkeepsie.”

“Oh, I think I recognize the voice now. Aren’t you the
guy who used to work here part time? Don’t tell me you’re out in this mess.”

“No, Frank. I’m the guy who’s now working full time,
and Lou and I are indoors at the moment, but we’d like for you to join us.”

“What’s the matter? Someone fall on an icicle and you
want to know if it was murder?”

“Pretty close, Frank. Actually, he fell on his ice
cream.”

“Do what?”

“Frank, Lou and I are out at Precipice Point at the
Overlook Inn. Someone just keeled over and we think he had help.”

“Were you there when he keeled over?”

“We were.”

“And you couldn’t tell if someone pushed him, or not?”

“Just come on out. I’ll give you the particulars when
you get here.”

“You mean I don’t have to bring you anything?”

“No. Thanks, Frank. George is picking up dinner for
us.”

“What? Oh, never mind. I’ll see you as soon as I can
get the wagon going and get out there.”

All Lou and I could do was wait. We didn’t want to
disturb anything. An SOC team and the medical examiner would soon be able to
tell us how to proceed. Lou and I wandered back to the dining room table. Mr.
Mycroft wasn’t Lazarus. His face remained in his dessert, although the dessert
had begun to run. I stepped to my place, and stuck a spoon in my baked Alaska.
It turned out to be the best thing the chef had served. As long as I didn’t
look at the deceased, I had no problem eating it.

I finished and glanced at Lou. He looked a little
sick.

“Not you, too?”

“Not that I know of, Cy, but we did eat the same stuff
he ate.”

“So did the others, but I see only one face full of dessert,
or is that one dessert full of a face?”

Lou laughed.

“Maybe it wasn’t the dessert. None of the other desserts
have been touched.”

One had. I wondered if I looked as bad as I felt. With
each breath I felt somewhat better, and when I hadn’t keeled over by the time
the first of the bluecoats showed up, I felt even better. My disposition
improved tremendously when George Michaelson showed up with our real dinner.
Lou looked for an out-of-the-way place to chow down, a place without activity
and fingerprints, and we let the other boys go to work. I noticed one of the
officers was Officer Dan Davis, a young officer I had worked with on a previous
case. I told him the inn had three exits, and instructed him to find them and
two other officers to help him guard the exits to see that no one left the
premises.  Their first job was to open each outside door and check for
footprints. There were none. No one had left the establishment.

After Lou and I finished our dinner, courtesy of Thelma
at the Blue Moon Diner and my good friend George, we sat down on the sofa while
Frank examined Miles Mycroft’s body. A few minutes later, Frank walked over and
tapped me on the shoulder.

“Cy, my guess is the guy was poisoned, but I won’t
know for sure until I do an autopsy. I think I’ll have another surprise for
you, but I’ll wait until I get him back and have an opportunity to look him
over. Mind if I take him now?”

“The sooner the better. How long before you’ll know anything?”

“Depends on what killed him. Hopefully sometime tomorrow
or Sunday.”

I nodded and Frank walked away.  My guess had been
that the victim was poisoned, and, if so, there would be a lot of work to do. A
team was already at work in the kitchen. With the body removed, some men would
check the food and utensils on the table. Maybe we’d luck out. Maybe Mycroft
did have a heart attack, and I summoned the troops for no reason. Somehow, I
didn’t think so. Time, and Frank Harris, would tell. A few minutes later, Frank
and his silent new friend left the inn for the morgue.

+++

Items were labeled and removed from the table. All
food, utensils, and everything in the kitchen would be checked for traces of
poison. Another team would dust for prints, but because so many people were
gathered in such a small area, the only place we held any hope of finding a
second set of prints that might help us was Mycroft’s room. Everyone was hard
at work except for Lou and me. I eased behind the counter and followed the path
until I came to a door. I knocked and Longworth answered my knock. I informed
him that I wanted to interrogate those who were present and asked for a room
where I could do that quietly. Longworth questioned why I would need to bother
his guests just because some man died of a heart attack. I convinced him that
it was important. I offered to let him go first, so that he could see how
painless it was. He picked up a key. We stopped off to secure Lou, and
Longworth led the sergeant and me to a conference room located down the hallway.
I remembered that he had neglected to mention a conference room when describing
the inn’s virtues. Maybe I didn’t look like a conference room kind of guy. I
wasn’t, but I was about to turn into one.

As I walked down the hall behind the proprietor, I noticed
his profile as he stared at my compatriots. I could tell that he didn’t think a
passel of policemen were good for business. Murder wasn’t good for mine, so I’d
cut him no slack.

He reached a door, unlocked it, and we stepped inside.
Couches lined the room. A metal serving cart stood in one corner. In the middle
of the room stood a conference table surrounded by chairs, with enough room
behind them to allow legroom for those seated on the couches, and a pathway for
people to navigate from one end of the room to the other. Not wanting Longworth
to be too comfortable, I motioned for him to take a seat at the table, and
selected a chair next to him. I could tell he wanted to talk, but didn’t want
to say anything that I would find helpful.

On most of our cases, I ask the questions while Lou listens.
Later, the two of us evaluate the information we’ve gathered. It was time to
gather that information.

“Mr. Longworth, tell me a little of the history of
this magnificent structure.”

“As you wish. In 1840, a Mr. Jacob Sudduth came to
this area to visit a cousin. One day, when his cousin was otherwise occupied
and he was feeling quite bored, he lit out on a carriage ride. He noticed what
amounted to a road that headed away from town through the trees. Curious, he
followed it. Surprisingly, the road kept going. There was no room to turn the
carriage around, so Sudduth continued on the road. Some time later he began his
descent to an old, wooden bridge. Across the bridge Sudduth noticed a log
cabin. After testing the bridge and realizing that he still didn’t have enough
room to turn around, Sudduth guided his horse across the bridge and dismounted
to see the log cabin. He could tell the cabin had been deserted for quite some
time. Sudduth was fascinated by the beauty of the place, and despite the fact
that he had been gone for hours and his cousin might be worried about him, he
walked around the precipice and studied the layout of the land. Sudduth was a
wealthy man, and upon returning to his cousin’s home he learned that the
property was for sale. Before he left he bought the property. He returned a
short time later with Mrs. Sudduth and convinced her they should build a home
on the property. As you can see, what was a home to Sudduth would be a castle
to many. He began having stone brought in in 1843 and the house was completed
and Sudduth moved in in 1848. Sudduth lived in the house only a few years
before he died, and when his son William became of age, he took ownership of
the property. Upon William’s death, the house passed on to his son Lee. Lee had
no sons, but had three daughters.  His daughter Elizabeth married Joseph  
Oppenheimer, and thus the house became known as the Oppenheimer estate.”

“And how did you come to be a part of this edifice?”

“Each descendant added his own touch to the structure.
In the beginning, there was no swimming pool, etc. Only a library. But the
exterior walls were conducive to adding to the mansion. Joseph Oppenheimer was
a patron of the arts. He had an auditorium built with an emphasis on the
performing arts. Mr. Oppenheimer wanted nothing to do with the performances
other than to be a member of the audience. He had heard of my reputation and
contacted me about directing plays in his theater. Like his ancestors before
him, he too was quite wealthy and was willing to pay top dollar to attract the
best performers. He trusted me with total control over a performance, and I auditioned
performers for each play. Oppenheimer never charged a guest or made a dollar
from any of his plays. His guests stayed and were fed at no charge to them.
They paid only for their travel to the inn.”

“And why did the performances cease?”

“Mr. Oppenheimer’s health was declining. So was his
wife’s. None of their children were interested in the inn, and so, with some
regret, the Oppenheimers shut down the performances and moved away. That was
several years ago. Mr. Oppenheimer lived longer than he expected, but when he
died, I had an opportunity to come back here. I sank a lot of money into
turning this place into an inn and hope someday to offer our guests plays and
performances equal to what we had before.” 

“That’s fascinating! I know you’re excited about such
an opportunity to go back and move forward doing what you love.”

“Only the accoutrements needed to turn this mansion
into an inn and the knowledge of operating an inn made me nervous. I learned
from Mr. Oppenheimer. I did what he did. I hired the best people to tell me
what I needed to do and to perform the tasks whose methods escape me.”

“Now, let’s turn to matters at hand. What can you tell
me about the deceased?”

Longworth froze at the sudden change in conversation,
but quickly regained his composure and answered my question.

 “He registered as Miles Mycroft from Missoula, Montana.
He’s been here since yesterday morning and hadn’t bothered anyone. He was
expected to stay until Monday.”

“Had he been a guest here before?”

“Lt. Dekker, the inn has been open only a week. We’ve
had no repeat guests.”