The Crossword Connection (8 page)

The medical examiner took another fifteen minutes to finish his on-site examination and load the body onto his van. He worked in perfunctory silence, but before leaving the scene, he spoke to Lever while giving a conspicuous nod in Rosco's direction. “Would you like to hear my initial thoughts or should I wait until we've returned to headquarters and dispensed with nondepartmental personnel?”

Lever sighed. He'd been through this routine before. When Rosco had been NPD, he and Carlyle had had a number of disagreements. The medical examiner resented Rosco's unconventional methods; Rosco often considered Carlyle's work sloppy; he felt the city deserved better. To top it off, Rosco's assessments had a sneaky way of being correct.

But Lever needed to keep peace, and at the moment, Carlyle was the one who required attention. “Take a hike, will you, Polly—crates? But don't leave the scene. I want to learn more about this Gus character.”

Rosco walked to the end of the alley, then strolled into the bus depot and had a chat with with the newspaper vendor. He bought a copy of the
Boston Sentinel.
By the time he'd returned to the alley, Carlyle had left.

“So?” he said to Lever.

“What do you think, Polly—crates? Carlyle had nothing new to add. Just that he thinks you're a class-A jerk. He wanted to take this opportunity to reiterate his words of wisdom.”

“This is interesting.…” Jones said as he crouched to examine the area where the body had been. “The victim's head was resting on today's issue of the
Boston Sentinel.
The
Crier
copies are all old, but the Boston paper's new. If we fixed the hour the bus depot newsstand opens, we might be able to narrow our time of death.”

It was Rosco who answered. “The newsstand's a twenty-four-hour operation. The
Sentinel
comes down from Boston between four-thirty and five every morning except Sundays. The current vendor doesn't remember a homeless woman in overalls, but he didn't start work until eight
A.M.
… Of course, she could have pulled the paper out of the trash or gotten it from the coin box on the corner. That information's from the vendor, not me.” Rosco handed a slip of paper to Lever. “But just in case she didn't get it from the coin box, here's the home phone of the guy who had the midnight-to-eight shift last night.”

“I'm glad to see you've been using your time wisely, Polly—crates.”

CHAPTER 9

Belle was staring disconsolately into a near-empty kitchen cabinet when the doorbell rang. She grabbed a can of condensed mushroom soup, plopped it on the counter, and called out, “Just a sec!” as she hurried through the house.

Rosco stood at the door, a newspaper tucked under his arm.

Belle kissed him. She was so focused on her own thoughts that she failed to notice the paper or Rosco's curious expression. “Al didn't need you any longer?”

“I told him everything I knew about Gus and Freddie, Sara's peripheral involvement, vis-à-vis the dog … the works.… Sister Mary Catherine came by the scene at Lever's request. She had a strong belief that the dead woman had not been living on the streets.”

Belle nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I feel a certain relief that this latest death isn't part of a serial crime. In the back of my mind, I've been wondering if the city's more questionable vested interests could be ratcheting up for a war against the homeless shelters.”

Rosco changed the subject. “Have you had lunch yet?”

They walked to the kitchen, hands touching. “We can warm some mushroom soup,” she said. “And I've got saltines. We could melt cheese over the crackers.…”

“Sounds great.” Rosco placed the newspaper on the counter. “Sorry to be late. I really did try to call earlier, but the line was constantly busy—”

“My father decided it was time for one final diatribe.” She opened the soup can and unceremoniously dumped the contents into a pot.

“He loves you, Belle. He's expressing his feelings the only way he knows how.”

“I agree with the
latter
part of your assessment, Rosco.”

He turned her around to face him and slipped his arms around her shoulders. “I don't care what he thinks of me, my education, family, work … but I
do
care about you. I love you, and I'm going to marry you … and you are the only person I'm trying to please. Now and always.”

Belle gazed up into his eyes. “You're the best guy on earth,” she said. “I hope you know that.”

“We're not our families, Belle.”

“I know.”

“Or our friends.”

“Well,
friends …
now, that's
different.”
She gave him a grateful kiss, then moved away and opened the refrigerator door. “No milk! Oh, drat! I'll have to thin this stuff with water. One of these days, I have to learn some basic culinary skills.”

“Such as buying milk?”

“Very funny. I was thinking more in terms of creating meals from scratch.”

“Your deviled eggs are excellent—”

“That's only one dish, Rosco. It's not enough to keep body and soul alive. Anyway, they're more of an hors d'oeuvre than a meal.”

She stirred the soup dreamily. “Oh, I forgot! We had some excellent news! I was waiting till I saw you to share it. A thumbs-up from Captain Lancia. We're definitely getting married in Newcastle waters, so we can get our license first thing Monday morning. Lancia can't officiate, but Sara is contacting a JP she knows. Her initial suggestion was a real-life
Washington judge,
but I nixed the idea, which took some doing, as you can imagine.
Il capitáno
came to the rescue. His ministrations lessened Sara's disappointment at not being able to phone her dear friend on the Supreme Court. If Lancia ever loses his job on the
Akbar,
he can always become a gigolo—”

“You've been busy.”

“You don't know the half of it. If Sara had her way, she'd organize every aspect of our wedding … and maybe play both roles, too.” Belle paused and regarded Rosco thoughtfully. “I'm sorry you've been involved in this police business. It doesn't make for an easy prenuptial week. Besides, I've missed you.”

“I've missed you, too.”

“No trace of Carson's dog, I take it?” she asked.

“I contacted the Humane Society and all local veterinarians. They swore they'd call me before they … well, did anything drastic. We just have to wait.”

Belle left the soup pot, returned to the fridge, and retrieved a wedge of Cheddar cheese, which she began slicing, laying thin strips atop a number of crackers. Her expression was pensive; it was clear her thoughts weren't on her work. “I wouldn't like to be lost and hungry,” she said, then added a typical non sequitur, “Paprika, do you think?”

“Not as much as last time.”

Belle's eyes narrowed into bemused slits. “The last time I used cayenne, by mistake. Paprika's not as spicy.…”

As she perused her selection of spices, Rosco unfolded the newspaper.
“Hideaway”
he muttered as if to himself, “four letters …”

Unconsciously Belle replied. “Nest, cave, hole, lair …”

“Tongue?”
Rosco prodded.

“Language, organ of taste or speech, dialect—”

“Six letters.”

“Accent … lingua … What are you up to?” Belle turned around and stared at the newspaper. “Since when have you started doing the crossword in the
Boston Sentinel
? 5-Across:
Hideaway.”
Her fingers pointed to the puzzle grid. “Thus your LAIR … and LINGUA for
Tongue
at 5-Down, making
Mr. Amin
IDI, of course, and
Ms. Parks
ROSA.” Belle chuckled. “Oh, and 16, 30, 51 and 65-Across run the full length of the puzzle grid. This looks intriguing … and nicely symmetrical.…”

Rosco took a beat. “Look at 1-Across.
Anagram for
—”

“Anagram for 75-Across,”
Belle muttered. Her eyes darted across the clues. “75-Across:
Retreats
… four letters …
Retreat
is both noun and verb. A monk's cell could be a retreat, likewise a desert isle; to flee is a form of retreating. However, in plural, the words would be five letters.… Wait, I've got it! SPAS. The anagram of which is either ASPS, PASS, or SAPS.”

Rosco paused again. “The dead woman was found with a copy of today's
Sentinel
under her head. It was open to the comics page. The crossword is at the foot of that section.”

“I know,” was Belle's wary reply.

“That's why I purchased the paper.… There may be a connection here.” He pushed the
Sentinel
across the counter toward her, but she made no move to take it.
“Anagram
is part of the first clue … like your nickname—”

Belle interrupted. “Rosco, we're getting married one week from today.”

“I know we are.”

“So, what does that mean?”

“That you don't want to discuss crime in Newcastle.”

She nodded her head. “It's not our business, Rosco. Really, it isn't.”

Inadvertently, his eyes drifted back to the newspaper. “But doesn't it seem unusual for a Boston daily to be found at the scene—?”

“The city's less than an hour away—”

“And open to the crossword—?”

Belle's expression remained unmoving. “A coincidence. That's all. What does Al think?”

“He didn't notice the puzzle. Neither did Abe.… Come on, Belle, humor me. This might have some bearing on the case. Call it one of my hunches.… But the woman's torso was lying atop
old
Newcastle papers, her head resting on
today's Sentinel.
In Carson's case, there were also newspapers that had been used as a bed—”

“But you just said the situations were unrelated—”

“You
inferred
that, Belle, when I told you Sister Mary Catherine didn't believe the dead woman had been living on the streets.”

Belle thought. “I have enormous respect for the nuns, but it's certainly
possible
that's a mistaken assumption. Perhaps the dead woman had only recently taken to the streets.… Maybe she arrived here by bus last night, so as not to be seen begging in her former hometown.… Pride plays an important role in all our lives, whatever our financial circumstances.”

Rosco didn't reply.

Belle frowned and then sighed, the sound a mixture of frustration and guilt. “Rosco, I don't want to deal with this. I don't want to worry about Father Tom and the nuns. I'm being selfish, I know, but for the coming week, all I want to concentrate on is getting married, having a pleasant celebration, and beginning a new life together.”

“There may well be linkages between the two deaths—”

She touched Rosco's arm and looked into his face. “If there are, Al will discover them. And if they turn out to involve the city's criminal element, the NPD will handle it.”

“Fill in the puzzle, Belle. It will only take a minute.”

“And then we can forget the entire situation?”

“If there are no clues pertaining to the deaths—”

Belle attempted a jest. “Not good enough.… I'll make you a deal. First we eat.
Then
we ink in the crossword. Any linkages go to Al. Okay?”

KING'S RANSOM

Across

1.  75-Across anagram

5.  Hideaway

9.  Ms. James

13.  Remove

14.  Chinese lead-in

15.  Cheat

16.  Walston “Damn Yankees” role?

19.  Judge Lance

20.  Oxygen tanker Itrs.

21.  King lead-in

22.  “Could——Be Magic”

24.  Cow chomp?

26.  Smells

30.  Like a Barbie doll?

34.  Roman sun god

35.  Perrier, e.g.

36.  Ms. McIntire

37.  Batter's stat.

40.  School grp.

42.  Logos, abbr.

44.  Not pos.

45.  “——hook Up?”

47.  Sick

49.  Travel org.

51.  Detectives' traits

57.  Mends

58.  ——la-la

59.  Track tip

60.  Spanish article

62.  April 15th grp.

64.  Power proj.

65.  Hanoi Hilton competitor?

71.  Shocked

72.  Mr. Perkins

73.  Overjoy

74.  Vegas tip

75.  Retreats

76.  TV rooms

Down

1.  Ms. Franklin

2.  ——faire

3.  Tire fig.

4.  Deal in

5.  Tongue

6.  “Frankie——Johnny”

7.  Mr. Amin

8.  Ms. Parks

9.  Quito country

10.  Dent lead-in

11.  McCort novel

12.  Mr. Lincoln

13.  Ms. Wharton

17.  How Gaelic tales were told

18.  Luminosity