Read Arsenic and Old Puzzles Online
Authors: Parnell Hall
Arsenic and Old Puzzles (21 page)
Jennifer’s crying was getting on Cora’s nerves, but she wanted to talk to her niece. She waited it out until the baby stopped blubbering. Sherry nodded, smiled, took Jennifer into her room, and put her down in the crib.
Sherry came back into the bedroom. “So? Tell me all about it.”
“Aaron hasn’t called?”
“He’s busy with the story. You want to tell me what he’s writing? You didn’t give an interview to Rick Reed.”
“Yes, I did.”
“I don’t think ‘No comment’ counts as an interview.”
“I actually said more than that. There was an awful lot he couldn’t use on the air.”
“So what’s up?”
Cora gave Sherry a rundown of the evening’s events.
“My God,” Sherry said. “The criminal brother. Just like in the movie. Does he look like Boris Karloff?”
“Yes and no. He’s tall and gaunt, with a lean, ashen face.”
“Okay, how
doesn’t
he resemble Boris Karloff?”
“He’s not being pursued by a horde of angry villagers.”
“Cora.”
“And he doesn’t have a plastic surgeon sidekick who talks like Peter Lorre.”
“And he thinks his aunt did it?”
“Either that or brother Alan.”
“That nice young man? He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Where did you meet that nice young man?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Oh, my God. Is your marriage over so soon? The baby’s not even walking and already the seven-year itch.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“You don’t remember where you met Alan?”
“He was pointed out to me somewhere as the nephew. I really can’t remember.”
“Of course not.”
“And what reasons did Boris Karloff give for Edith killing her sister?”
“They didn’t like each other.”
“No, really.”
“Yeah, really. According to him, the whole family’s batty.”
“Like in the movie. Oh, my goodness. How did Rick Reed ever miss this guy?”
“I don’t think he knows about him.”
“Dan Finley didn’t tip him off?”
“I think Chief Harper read him the riot act.”
“Rick Reed?”
“Dan Finley.”
“Even so, I’m surprised Rick didn’t pounce on him the minute he came out the door.”
“He never got the chance. The chief let him out the side way.”
“So Rick doesn’t have the story. Does Aaron know about this?”
“Sherry.”
“Well, it would be a scoop.”
“Yeah, it would. And the chief would know exactly where it came from. I’d be in more trouble than I am now.”
“Are you in trouble now?”
“Not really.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I know. This whole case doesn’t make any sense. And then this guy Sebastian shows up.”
“Who?”
“Boris Karloff. And he rolls out all these theories why the sister did it or the nephew did it.”
“Because they’re nuts?”
“Basically. But why kill all these other people? To cover up the crime. But it hasn’t happened yet. Like for practice. What about to camouflage the crime so it wouldn’t stand out?”
“Does that make sense?”
“I don’t know. It’s a generic reason. It could apply to anyone at all. But in this particular case, I don’t know these people. I certainly don’t know them the way he describes them.”
“So, what’s your theory?”
“I don’t have one. That’s the whole problem. I can’t get a grip on anything. I’m wondering if you’d take another look at the puzzle.”
“What do you mean, take another look at the puzzle? You think I solved it wrong?”
“No, I’m sure you solved it right. I just don’t understand the message. It tells us Charlotte’s in the window seat. We know Charlotte’s in the window seat. It says Charlotte was nosy. We could have guessed that, too.”
Sherry considered. “Does it tell you she was
killed
because she was nosy?”
“That’s implied.”
“Yeah, but it’s not necessarily true. To start off, there are two possibilities. The killer put that implication in the puzzle deliberately. Or the killer put that implication in the puzzle accidently.”
“How could it be accidental?”
Sherry smiled. “Hey. You don’t construct crossword puzzles. They’re not easy. You’re writing a short little poem, it’s gotta be symmetrical, the first and last line having the same number of letters, the same with the middle two. And it’s gotta rhyme. You got very few words to convey the idea.”
“You’re saying the killer could have said she was snoopy just because it satisfied the meter?”
“Why not? What could it hurt? Unless your theory is the killer is trying to help you figure this out and convict him. In which case, he would be scrupulously careful not to give you a false lead. Assuming getting caught is not the killer’s intention, implying the woman got killed for being snoopy doesn’t hurt him in the least.”
“You keep saying
him
.”
“Well, I’m not going to say
him or her
every time. I’d go batty. Anyway, say the killer put the implication in the puzzle deliberately. He either put the implication in the puzzle because it’s true, or he put the implication in the puzzle because it’s false. If he did it because it’s true, it’s because he’s playing a game with you. Because he’s trying to taunt you. Or because it’s an elaborate double-bluff, telling you what’s actually true in the hope you’ll think it’s false.
“If he did it because it’s false, it’s because he’s trying to mislead you.”
“Oh, my God,” Cora said.
“What?”
“You know what you’re doing? You’re being me. You’re thinking like me. And do you know why? Because
I’m
not thinking like me. Because I’m totally buffaloed by this case, and I’m not thinking at all, so you’re stepping up and doing it for me. Because I’ve become addled and stupid and can’t do it myself.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that.”
“Well, don’t panic. It’s not irreversible. I’m just momentarily fuddled.”
“Knowing that, you can now think clearly?”
Cora sighed. “I’m afraid so.”
“We have to
break up.”
“What?”
“Sorry, Barney, but you’re cramping my style.”
“Huh?”
“I can’t think. I can’t function. I’m like a ditsy teenager with a high school crush.” At his expression, she said, “No, no, don’t panic, that’s not what I mean. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been in any relationship. I’ve forgotten what it takes. I mean mentally. Emotionally. The fact is, it’s clouding my thinking.”
Barney blinked at Cora, sat on the edge of the bed. “You picked me up at the Country Kitchen, smuggled me into your house so your niece wouldn’t know I’m here, to tell me you’re breaking up with me because this is just a schoolgirl crush? Why couldn’t you have slipped me a note in study hall?”
Cora smiled. “Why, Barney Nathan. Good for you. It’s nice to see the feisty side of you. I mean, when you’re not defending some autopsy.”
“I’m glad you like it. I’m still baffled. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Cora shrugged. “I used to be such a playgirl. Ever since I’ve come to Bakerhaven my social life has dwindled. For one thing, I quit drinking. If you’re not hanging out in singles bars, you’re not going to get much action. Not that there are singles bars in Bakerhaven, but you catch my drift. Anyway, I sublimated my primal urges into something else.”
“Crossword puzzles.”
“I was going to say crime solving, but it’s the same idea. And I got good at it. I honed my mental agility, reached the point where I could approach a problem logically, and do my best to reason it out.”
“While decimating a medical examiner or two.”
“It was never personal, Barney. Always business. Not that it makes a lot of difference. I doubt if the guys who got shot in
The Godfather
cared if it was personal or business.”
“What’s this got to do with us breaking up?”
“I’m trying to explain where I’m coming from. Which I’m not exactly sure of myself. Since I’ve been here I’ve had one serious relationship, and it ended badly. Very badly. I mean, on a scale of one to ten, a dead groom is gonna cost you a lot of points.
“And I pulled myself together and I solved that crime. And I haven’t had a serious relationship since. Not that my ex-husband Melvin hasn’t tried.”
“Is that the one who got arrested?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.” At his expression, she said, “Yes, he’s the one you know who got arrested. Anyway, without the distraction of a man, I’ve been sharp and focused and aware and good at what I’m doing. And now I’m not. My senses are dulled. It’s worse than alcohol.”
“Can’t you work through it?”
“I couldn’t work through alcohol. I had to quit drinking.”
“You’re saying I make you stupid.”
“That’s an oversimplification.”
“This is all because you don’t know what happened to Charlotte Guilford.”
“No, this is all because I don’t even
suspect
what happened to Charlotte Guilford.” Cora sighed, shook her head. “How are things with your wife?”
“Huh?”
“You know. The woman you married. How are things with her?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“You
do
know. She thinks I’m having an affair with Becky Baldwin.”
“Yeah, but things were bad before that.”
“Not this bad.”
“How bad is this bad?”
“She hadn’t thrown me out of the house.”
“She has now? She still hasn’t, or you’d be in a motel and we wouldn’t be doing all this sneaking around.”
“I suppose.”
“Men,” Cora said. “Just like with the damn baseball cards. You can’t throw anything away. You can complain all you want, but you can’t let go of your wife. You’re not getting along, life together is living hell, but you’re still not out of the house because she hasn’t thrown you out yet. I suppose you can argue you like the house. How long have you been married?”
“Twenty-three years.”
“There you go. You fool around before?”
“Of course not.”
“Did she?”
“Really!”
“See, you’re still not over her. I can always tell. Which is what’s making me stupid. The amount of mental energy I’m spending on this damn relationship.”
“You know she slapped Becky Baldwin?”
“I was there.”
“What was that like?”
“Better than if it was me.”
“She was really angry?”
“In a cold, methodical way. Kind of scary. Trust me, I’ve been there. On both sides. Thank you, Joni Mitchell.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, you’re younger than I am.” Cora sighed, shook her head. “‘Both Sides Now.’ Google the lyrics.”
They sat awhile in silence.
Barney got up from the bed.
Cora got up, too.
He took her in his arms.
“Well, I guess this is good-bye,” Barney said.
Cora smiled, patted him on the cheek. “Let’s not be hasty,” she said, unbuttoning his shirt.
Cora dropped Barney
off at the Country Kitchen and drove over to the
Bakerhaven Gazette
. Downstairs the presses were silent. Printers stood around waiting to start the job.
Cora found Aaron in his cubical working on the story.
“They’re retooling the front page,” Aaron said. “Not for me. The editor’s whipping it up from what I gave him. Which wasn’t much. I’m doing the expanded coverage on page four. Which is a rehash of the same things, since he’s just quoting me.”
“You happen to see a thin man in the crowd who looked like a walking cadaver?”
Aaron’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me…?”
“Alan Guilford’s older brother flew in from Seattle to join in the fun.”
“What’s his story?”
“He thinks her sister did it.”
“What!?”
“Or his baby brother. Not big on family, I gather. Still, his first choice is Auntie Edith.”
“Who knows about this?”
“Chief Harper, Dan Finley, and Sebastian Guilford.”
“That’s his name?”
“You got it.”
“And Rick Reed doesn’t.”
“Bingo, right on the button.”
“You telling me this off the record?”
“Did I say that? I don’t recall saying that. Must have slipped my mind.”
Aaron snatched up the phone, pressed the intercom for his editor. “Hold the front page! I’ll be right there!” He slammed down the phone, checked with Cora. “Sebastian Guilford?”
“That’s right.”
Aaron ran out the door.
Chief Harper was
tipped back in his chair with a cup of coffee and a California bun from Cushman’s Bake Shop. The
Bakerhaven Gazette
was open on his desk. The headline read:
CHARLOTTE GUILFORD MURDERED.
The right-hand column dealt with the facts of the murder. The sub-headline read:
NEPHEW ACCUSES AUNT.
The left-hand column, an exclusive by reporter Aaron Grant, dealt with Sebastian Guilford’s accusation.
“What’s up?” Cora said.
Harper took a bite of bun, washed it down with coffee. “Nothing much. Seen the morning paper?”
“I glanced at it.”
“It appears that Aaron Grant found out about Sebastian Guilford.”
“I read that,” Cora said.
“I wonder how Aaron Grant got that story.”
“Do you really?”
“No, I have a pretty good idea.”
“And yet you’re not leaping up and ripping my throat out.”
“What’s the point? I knew you were going to give him the story. You knew you were going to give him the story. The only one who didn’t know you were going to give him the story was Dan Finley, who was very careful not to give it to Rick Reed.”
“Why’d you care about that?”
“You don’t want to see Rick Reed scooped by Aaron?”
“No, but I can’t imagine you manipulating the witness just to make it happen.”
Harper smiled. “You got me. I certainly wouldn’t. On the other hand, there’s a big difference between some nut job on TV screaming about how his aunt’s a killer and reading about it in the morning paper in an article peppered with the word
alleged
. And it’s not just that the guy alleges that his aunt is the killer. The guy is
alleged
to have alleged that his aunt’s the killer. Aaron never talked to the guy himself, he only talked to you. Which buys me time before Henry Firth starts pressuring me to arrest the aunt.”