Murder at Breakfast (22 page)

“Yeah,
anyone could have done that, but what we need to learn now is does the rope
ladder have anything to do with the murder. We know the plate of food found in
Mrs. Higgins’ apartment doesn’t.”

We
knew the rope ladder existed, because we had it in our hot little hands. We had
no idea if its existence meant anything. More than likely the murderer was
responsible for the rope ladder we had in our possession, but did it have
anything to do with how the murder was committed? Could it be that someone
planned to use the ladder to get into Mrs. Higgins’ apartment, only to have
those plans squashed when Russell Cochran confiscated that ladder, and the
murderer had to buy another ladder to execute the crime, then saw that the
ladder passed through three other hands where it would eventually be found, or
hidden away in an apartment never to see the light of day? Or was the ladder a
red herring? And then there was one other possibility. Could it be that Russell
Cochran or Elaine Jewell bought that ladder to cast suspicion away from someone
who had no need for the rope ladder and to other residents who couldn’t have
gotten into Mrs. Higgins’ apartment any other way?

There
was still some time before lunch. I wanted to see inside those two apartments.
I wanted to see Imogene Ingram’s apartment first. I wanted to see if there were
marks on any of the window sills. Although it was right above us, I took the
long and flat path to the elevator, rode it to the top floor, and trudged back
to the apartments. I had already closed the elevator door before I realized
that Lou wasn’t with me. Was he still checking out something in Mrs. Higgins’
apartment? When I rounded the corner far enough that I saw the door to Mrs.
Ingram’s apartment, I had my answer. There, standing in front of the door,
smiling, was a shell of the friend I used to know. I ignored him and slid the
key into the lock.

I
opened the door, stepped inside. In many ways it looked like the apartment I
had just left, Mrs. Higgins’ apartment. All the windows were in the living
room, so it wouldn’t take long to check them out. I stepped over, saw that each
window was locked. I flipped the lock and lifted each window, one at a time. I
looked carefully. There were no markings similar to the ones I saw in Miss
Winters’ apartment. Could it be that the rope ladder didn’t enter into the
mystery? Time would tell. After lunch, Heather would assist us and we would try
the rope ladder to see if it worked, and if it made any marks. Only after that
would we be able to narrow down the murderer’s choice of entry. We didn’t have
a lot of time to spare, so Lou and I hurriedly searched  the  apartment to see
if anything stood out.  In the ten minutes we took to search, we found nothing
out of the ordinary.

We
closed and locked the door, hurried across the hall to Mrs. Davis’s apartment.
A few minutes inside that apartment revealed nothing we didn’t already know.
Although I saw no reason to look for marks on any of the windows in this
apartment, I checked anyway, and found none. We closed and locked the door,
turned and saw a maid’s cart outside Mr. Cochran’s room. Evidently the maid was
inside. As we stepped closer, I heard her vacuuming. I took advantage of the
situation to check the cart. If the rope ladder was used, she was the prime
suspect. I gave the cart a meticulous check, feeling safe as long as the noise
from inside continued. In the two or three minutes we spent searching, we found
nothing. We had just given up when the noise inside ceased. We were around the
corner and on our way to the elevator before the door to Mr. Cochran’s
apartment opened.

+++

I
had become so engrossed in the investigation that I had forgotten about Rosie’s
promise until just before we arrived at the Blue Moon. I wondered what treat
Rosie had in store for me. By the way she acted, it was something that would
appeal to me, and the Lou I used to know. Was she trying out some new dessert?
Were we having banana pudding, one of my favorite desserts? It had been a while
since the Blue Moon had offered it.

I
jingled the bell on the front door, and a smiling Rosie looked up from behind
the counter.

“So,
are you going to tell me now, or do I have to wait?”

“Not
until you sit down.”

I
think I set a record in getting to the stool. I think Lou was a little slower
than usual, on purpose.

“Okay,
I’m ready. What is it? A new recipe? An old favorite?”

“A
very old favorite. A dish popular all over Kentucky.”

“Don’t
tell me you’re fixing my granny’s old-fashioned groundhog possum stew, the one
with snail’s warts.”

“Very
funny. Just for that, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Rosie,
did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite girl?”

“Okay,
you win. One of our choices today is the Kentucky Hot Brown.”

“Bring
it on. I can hardly wait.”

It
had been months since I last sampled a good ol’ Kentucky Hot Brown, a dish not
well known outside the state of Kentucky. Toasted bread topped with turkey,
ham, bacon, and a tomato on top, covered with lots and lots of Mornay sauce,
then heated under the broiler. I know the original recipe developed by the
Brown Hotel in Louisville didn’t have ham on it, but a lot of today’s recipes
do, and I say the more the merrier. Like many places today, the Blue Moon
offered two sizes of Hot Brown, and Rosie didn’t need to ask which size I
wanted. A few minutes later, my eyes danced as Rosie sat a platter full of
scrumptious delight in front of me. For once, I can say I truly don’t have any
idea what Lou ate for lunch.

As
it turned out, I was partially right. When Rosie shared with me the
possibilities for dessert, homemade banana pudding baked in the oven was one of
them. I opted for two large bowls full of that pudding, and it was everything I
could do to refrain from licking the bowls when I finished. I think that when I
finished it was the closest I had ever come to asking Rosie to marry me. No, I
didn’t love her, and she wasn’t even the one who fixed lunch, but she was the
one who saw that I got my just desserts, all of them, and any man worth his
salt knows that one of the most important things about a woman is how well she
cooks for her husband. In the few years Eunice and I were married before she
died, she cooked wonderfully.

I
had never felt so full of fat in my life. How glorious of a feeling  it  was! 
I  was  in no mood to move off that stool for at least a few days, but I looked
at my watch and at 1:40, somehow I came  to a standing position and waddled out
to Lightning to share with her about my wonderful meal. I think I heard my food
sloshing around contentedly inside me. We had just twenty minutes before our
date with Heather. In a way, I hoped she was late. 

+++

At
1:58, a car much larger than the driver inside pulled into the Parkway Arms driveway.
A driver much larger than the car he drove stepped out to meet her.

“Cy,
Lou, how’ve you been?”

“Well,
one of us has been a lot better than the other,” I replied.

“Yeah,
I saw where you put Lou to shame when it comes to Wii workouts.”

“You
saw it, too.”

“Of
course, Cy. I understand you’re going to be the Grand Marshall and ride in the
Wiimobile at the Fourth of July parade.”

“Bite
your tongue.”

That
little thing, who was not much more than one-third of my robustness, grinned
and gave me a hug. Then, she did the same to Lou. As I watched her, I wondered
if she realized how far Lou had sunk. If so, she didn’t let on, but that was
the way Heather was. She didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

After
she hugged Lou, she turned back to me.

“I
understand that you have some death defying stunts you want me to attempt.”

“Let’s
go inside. I’ll show you what I have. You let me know if you want to attempt
it.”

Heather
Ambrose was a professional. She knew what to attempt and what not to try. We
rode the elevator to the second floor, got out. Then we went around and I
unlocked Mrs. Higgins’ door and walked in.

I
explained to Heather about the murder, and told her the murderer  had  gotten 
in  and/or out in one of four ways. Either they took the easy way and walked in
the door, or they used the dumbwaiter, the laundry chute, or the rope ladder
from the apartment above. I wanted Heather to let me know the feasibility of
the last three.

“I
assume that’s why you had me wear my gymnastics outfit.”

“That’s
right. At least for the two inside the apartment.”

Heather
started taking off her uniform, right in front of Lou and me. I felt like a
voyeur, even though by the time she got down to whatever it was she was
wearing, she looked like a young woman wearing a pair of long johns with a
lightweight swimsuit on top of it. I looked at her, standing there in her bare
feet, wearing that outfit, and I felt like she was ready to do a flip over the
couch and land on the floor on both feet.

“I
hope you’re not in any hurry. I want to study these things before I attempt
them.”

“Absolutely,
take your time. If you need anything from us, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Well,
Cy, there is one little thing.”

“Just
name it.”

“Well,
it would be a big help to me if you’d hop in that dumbwaiter first and pull me
in.”

I
laughed.

“Heather,
dear, may I remind you that contrary to public opinion only one of the two
things you mentioned, me and the dumbwaiter, has the word dumb in its name.
Now, Lou and I will sit over here and watch you work. Remember, don’t try
anything that would cause George to shoot me.”

The
slight young woman, who stood around 5’4” and admitted to weighing 112 pounds,
opened the dumbwaiter and looked inside. I had already pushed the button to get
the device to our floor.

I
watched her as she contorted her body, first one way, and then the other,
trying to slide herself up into the dumbwaiter, or turn around and pull herself
to a standing position. As I looked at  her,  part  of  me thought of her as a
daughter, whom I didn’t want to see hurt herself. The other part of me made me
wish I was a young man again. I could definitely have gone for Heather if I was
a rookie on the force. I wondered what she thought of Officer Dan Davis, one of
my favorite officers. Maybe I would ask her.

“Sorry,
Cy, it must have been those last three of four pounds. I almost made it, but
not quite. My guess is that no one got in or out of this apartment using the
dumbwaiter, if that’s what you want to know.”

“Now,
see what you think of the laundry chute, but, please be careful.”

She
looked in and down. There was no up.

“Where
does this go?”

“To
the basement.”

“Just
as I figured. I don’t think anyone could’ve dropped down this chute and lived,
not unless there was a sizable airbag at the bottom, and I’m not even sure that
would be enough to save someone. Do you want me to see if I can climb up from
the bottom?”

“Yes,
but please be careful.”

“I’d
need for you to go with me, just in case.”

Heather
donned a wrap she had brought with her, and we headed for the basement.
Fortunately, we didn’t meet anyone on the way.

I
had left Lou upstairs and told him to toss a penny down the chute when we
hollered up to him, so we would know for sure that we had the right chute.
Heather and I plotted on the way down, and decided if we heard a dumb sergeant
holler “help” then we needed to quickly move out of the way once we found what
chute the voice came from. He had landed on me before in the line of duty, and
I was in traction for weeks. Of course that was back when he was a full-size
man.

A
few seconds later, instead of a penny, a Hershey’s kiss came tumbling down the
chute. We both laughed. I would get even with a wasting-away sergeant.

Heather
had me wrap my mitts around her waist and hoist her up to the opening in the
chute. This opening proved to be much larger than the dumbwaiter, but two or
three attempts to climb up the chute proved fruitless.

“I’m
sorry, Cy. There were no places to grip. My hands and feet kept slipping. I
think it’s safe to say no one got in or out this way, either. Let’s see about
that rope ladder.”

We
took the elevator back to the second floor, walked inside the apartment, where
I threw the Hershey kiss back at Lou.

“If
you want, you can get dressed and we take the elevator up to the apartment
above this one.”

“I
don’t need to get dressed. I’m dressed as much as your grandmother was when she
went to the beach. I’d just as soon get this over with, then get dressed.
George said to do what I could to help you, then I could go home for the day.”

I
picked up the rope ladder, we walked out and I turned toward the elevator.

“Cy,
didn’t you say it was the apartment right above this one?”

“That’s
right.”

“Well,
wouldn’t it be closer to go this way?”

I
was trapped. I motioned for Heather to lead. I followed her up the stairs and
unlocked the door. I tossed the rope ladder down on the floor, and went over to
open a window. I decided to let Heather secure the ladder and test it, since
she was going to be the one using it. Lou had opened the window downstairs and had
stepped out onto the roof, ready to catch Heather if she should come tumbling
after.

Heather
hooked the ladder over the window sill and jerked on it to make sure it was
secure. Then, she stepped out onto a rung of the ladder, while still holding on
to the window sill. After she was sure that everything seemed safe, she stepped
down  the  ladder  in  record  time, and jumped over the sill and into Mrs.
Higgins’ apartment. Once inside, she stuck her head out the window and gave me
an “OK” sign. I motioned for her to come back up the ladder.

We
pulled the ladder back inside. She noticed no frays, but I discovered a mark on
the window that had not been there before. Evidently, we were the first to use
the rope ladder to descend to the apartment below.