The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady (8 page)

Read The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady Online

Authors: Parnell Hall

BOOK: The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady
4.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Aaron Grant ran his column though spell-check and hit SEND. He resented doing that. He liked the idea of dropping it on the editor's desk. He kept hoping the e-mail would screw up and make the editor prefer a hard copy. But it never did.
Aaron went out, walked down the street to his car.
Cora was leaning on the hood.
Aaron smiled. “Hi, Cora. What are you doing here? Checking up on your competition?”
“Huh?”
He jerked his thumb. “The Sudoku Lady. She's in there giving an interview.”
“You're kidding.”
“Freddie's interviewing her about her sudoku books.”
“She's up there right now?”
“Yeah. With her niece and some guy. I think he's her agent.”
“Zombie in a suit?”
“That's him.”
“Well, isn't that interesting?”
“You didn't know about it?”
“No.”
Aaron frowned. “So what are you doing here?”
“Oh. I want to talk to you without Sherry.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Not at all. You know I'm trying to move out so I won't be underfoot.”
“You don't have to do that.”
“That's what Sherry says. She's just trying to be polite. Now you're trying to be polite. Everyone's trying to be polite, and nothing gets said. You kids are young. You wanna start a family.”
“Who says we want to start a family?”
“Of course you want to start a family. Everyone wants to start a family.”
“You never did.”
“Yeah, but I'm the exception that proves the rule. It would be easier if Sherry wasn't trying to stop me.”
“You want me to persuade Sherry to let you move out?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Sherry's a difficult person to persuade.”
“Tell me about it. The point is, if you could ease off urging me to stay, without actually appearing to be siding with me against her—”
“Good God, did you manipulate all your ex-husbands?”
“Come on, wouldn't you like to be rid of me?”
“You kind of grow on people.”
“Great.” Cora jerked her thumb. “You sure the Sushi Lady isn't up there going through your files?”
“I thought it was Sudoku Lady.”
“I know what it is. Is she doing it?”
“Why would she be?”
“See what you've got on Steve Preston.”
“What about Steve Preston?”
“He appears to have had a relationship with the deceased.”
“You're kidding.”
“You didn't have that either? Wow, it's great to be ahead of everybody. Except Dennis, of course.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Good news. He's not poking around Sherry. He's poking around the crime.”
“Who's the witness?”
“Promise you won't write it?”
“Write it? It sounds like fifth-hand information. Damn it, what's Dennis still doing in town?”
“Talk to his lawyer. On second thought, that's not such a good idea either. Anyway, I'd like to know if Dennis tipped our Japanese friend off. That's assuming he didn't follow her in the first place. Which I would not like at all, because it would mean she was ahead of me. Bad enough it's just Dennis.”
Aaron looked at her suspiciously. “You're always keeping me away from Dennis. Now you're throwing him in my face. Why?”
“No reason. But you might pay me back for the heads-up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I'd kind of like to know if Sudoku-face is being interviewed or going through the files on Mrs. Fielding's lover.”
“Did you follow her here? Was the whole wanting-to-talk-tome-about-moving-out bit just a ruse?”
“Not at all. It's a legitimate concern. But as a reporter, aren't you interested in whether Minami is actually up there doing research?”
Aaron exhaled sharply, turned, and stalked off back to the paper.
He was out in five minutes.
“Well?” Cora said.
“She's in Freddie's office. She's doing the interview. She isn't going through the files.”
“Oh.”
Aaron cocked his head.
“Her niece is.”
“Really?”
“It doesn't have to mean anything. She's probably just a nosy teenager.”
“Yeah, maybe. Where's Zombie Agent?”
“Sitting in on the interview. I get the impression he's trying to run things.”
Cora grimaced. “That can't be good.”
Aaron shrugged. “Come on. How could it possibly matter?”
Underneath the banner headline in the
Bakerhaven Gazette
were two pictures: Minami in full geisha regalia, and Cora Felton holding up a box of Granville Grains Post Toasties.
The Sudoku Lady versus the Puzzle Lady? It sounds like a comic book, but it might be a reality. Minami, the internationally famous Sudoku Lady, has come all the way from Japan to challenge Cora Felton, Bakerhaven's own Puzzle Lady, to a duel.
Charming, polite, and respectful, Minami had nothing but kind words for her American counterpart, but her agent, Irving Swartzman, was less reticent. “Minami is not some American
ripoff. She's the real deal. A genuine Japanese Sudoku Lady. Always has been. Always will be. Not some crossword puzzle person who hopped on the sudoku bandwagon when it became hot.”
Harsh words but not without a grain of truth. Cora Felton is admittedly a newcomer to the sudoku game. And why should this matter? The demure Sudoku Lady was reluctant to say, but as Mr. Swartzman pointed out, “Crime is mathematical. A person good with numbers is apt to be good at crime. In her own country Minami is often called in to assist the police. She could do the same here, if they were smart enough to ask her.”
Even without police cooperation, Swartzman insists, the Sudoku Lady could beat the Puzzle Lady hands down. In fact, while he could not talk about it, Mr. Swartzman hinted that the Sudoku Lady might have some opinions about an ongoing investigation. “Mark my words. The Sudoku Lady is going to solve a crime before the Puzzle Lady. And that's a promise.”
Will the challenge be taken up? Only time will tell.
The Puzzle Lady could not be reached for comment.
Chief Harper lowered the paper and cocked his head at Cora. “Would you care to comment?”
“Bite me.”
“Let me get this straight. This is all because on a given Sunday your book sold more than her book on the Japanese best-seller list?”
“I don't think you actually
sell
books on a list. I think it's the books that are
sold
that get you
on
it.”
“You know what I mean. Stop changing the subject. The point is, this woman is making trouble because of you.”
“If you want to look at it that way.”
“How else can I look at it?”
“I would say you're lucky she didn't plant a sudoku at the scene of the crime so she could solve it and show you how smart she was.”
“That's absurd.”
“Is it? How about her body-in-the-freezer theory? Short of mystery books, you're not going to find that one.”
“That's different.”
“Why?”
“Well, there's nothing Japanese about it.”
“There's nothing Japanese about sudoku, either. They didn't invent 'em, they just took 'em over.”
“You sound angry.”
“Of course, I'm angry. Here's this woman stirring up trouble where there's none, challenging me to prove there's none. Was there ever anything so unfair? Now I got Dennis sticking his nose in—a coincidental lover that had nothing to do with what is actually an accidental trip-and-fall, but that woman's going to make a big deal of it.”
“It's not your problem.”
“Of course it's my problem. The woman called me out. Am I supposed to get on my high horse, say, ‘Don't be silly, I don't wanna play?'”
“That would seem like the thing to do.”
“Yeah, if I want my book sales to plummet in Japan.”
“You're worried about your book sales?”
“I'm not worried about my book sales. I think it's unfair that a woman comes halfway around the world to screw with my book sales.”
“This Steve Preston.”
“What about him?”
“You talk to his wife?”
Cora's eyes widened. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, one theory is he killed Mrs. Fielding to keep her from telling his wife. Another would be his wife found out and killed her rival. Actually a simpler motive.”
“A simple-
minded
motive. Of a convoluted crime.”
“You just called this a convoluted crime.”
“So?”
“If it's an accidental death, there's no crime.”
“So what?”
“So you started thinking of it as a crime.”
“I misspoke.”
“That's unusual for a wordsmith who contorts words into intricate constructions seldom heard in the annals of English history.”
Cora contorted some words into intricate constructions that George Carlin couldn't say on TV.
Chief Harper went to the file cabinet, jerked it open, and pulled out a file. “You see this?” He pointed to the word stamped on the side. “C-L-O-S-E-D. CLOSED. This is Mrs. Fielding's file. It's closed. It's got nothing to do with you. You got nothing to do with it.”
“What if Sally Sudoku comes to me with a theory?”
“Take it to Chief Harper. That's what you tell her. Tell her to bring it to me. You got nothing to do with the case—she should bring it to me.”
“And if she doesn't like that answer and rips out my heart with a mat knife?”
“I'll arrest her. Your life will be avenged.”
“Somehow I find that small consolation.”
“Okay, tell her you got a better theory, and then prove it.”
Cora grimaced. “I was afraid you'd say that.”
Cora knew Sheila Preston. At least she knew her by sight. Sheila Preston was one of the young professional wives who hung out in Cushman's Bake Shop early in the morning before heading off to their appointed careers. Sheila's was in marketing. Low-level marketing. Entry-level, actually. She was a cashier at Wal-Mart.
Aaron had once done a feature on Sheila Preston, not on her specifically but on a group of women's annual pledge drive for public radio. Cora, who hated pledge drives, had refused to participate, only one in a long line of charitable causes for which her celebrity status had attracted unwelcome solicitations.
Armed with the newspaper clipping for identification, Cora drove out to the mall to accost the young woman on her lunch hour.
She wasn't there, neither among the cashiers at the registers
nor those lunching in the lounge. Cora hunted up the manager, a stocky man with a rather self-satisfied smile.
“Nope, not here.”
“I can see that. Where is she?”
“She got laid off. Almost three weeks now.”
“How come?”
“Not my place to say.”
“You're the manager. Whose place is it?”
“I mean it wouldn't be right for me to comment on an employee's performance.”
“Suppose I was thinking about hiring her?”
“Are you?”
“Let's say I am?”
“Where and at what?”
“At Kmart.”
“You don't work for Kmart.”
“What gave me away?”
“If you want to know why she left, why don't you ask her yourself?”
“I would, but she's not here. Where is she?”
He shrugged. “If she hasn't gotten another job, she's probably home.”
“Where's home?”
“I'm not at liberty to say.”
“Who is?”
“Beats me.” He shrugged again. “I imagine it's in the phone book.”
It was. Sheila Preston lived on a pleasant tree-lined street on the edge of town in a two-story wood-frame house on a block of such structures. There was a car parked in the driveway and another car out front, which was good in that she was probably
home and bad in that someone was probably with her. Cora pulled up to the curb halfway down the street and cut the motor.
The front door burst open.
A flurry of silk emerged, whirled in multicolored swirls as if doubling back, then glided down the front path to the car, wrenched the door open, hopped in, and took off.
Well, that was interesting. Why was Minami fleeing from Sheila's house? Why had she turned back? Why had she changed her mind? And what the devil had lit such a fire under her in the first place?
Cora considered her options. One was to chase after Minami and see where she went. The other was to call Chief Harper and tell him what the woman had done.
Yeah, right.
Cora got out of her car, walked down the street to the house, went up on the porch, and rang the bell. She could hear it ring inside the house. It was loud. No way the woman couldn't hear. But there was no answer.
Cora noticed the front door was open a crack. That must have been why Minami turned back. To close the door. Only she hadn't. It was clearly open. Unless the lock was off-kilter and there was just an unusual gap.
Cora pushed on the door.
It swung open.
Uh oh.
Cora stuck her head in and called, “Mrs. Preston?”
There was no answer.
Cora slipped through the front door, found herself in a small foyer with a living room off to the left, a kitchen off to the right, and a stairway to the second floor.
Cora went into the living room.
Mrs. Preston lay in the hearth.
Her head had been bashed in, but not by falling on the andiron. She'd been hit with a poker. It lay next to the body.
There was a piece of paper under the poker.
A sudoku.

Other books

IT WAS ALL A DREAM (1) by JACKSON, KELVIN F
A Shade of Kiev 2 by Bella Forrest
The Billionaire's BBW Secret by Griffin, Mallorie
The Ghost Runner by Blair Richmond
Murder Walks the Plank by Carolyn Hart
Surrendering by Ahren Sanders