Murder at Breakfast (9 page)

I
hung up as soon as I could. I couldn’t stand to hear that three-letter word any
longer. I called Lou to let him know I was on my way to pick him up for breakfast.
His voice sounded weaker.

I
plucked my keys from where I keep them each night and opened the back door to
leave. I used to leave by the front door, but I found out that I could
sometimes sneak out the back door and zip out of my driveway before my neighbor
spotted me. I looked around, saw nothing. The sun was up. It looked like
another good day. Well, it would have been if I could have gone out to eat with
the friend I used to have and then come home to read and nap before going out
again for lunch.

I
think I whistled on my way to say good morning to Lightning. I was about to
slide my key into the lock, when I heard a vulture-like “Surprise” from the
other side of my car, and an accompanying bark. I pulled my gun from my
holster. Only my quickness of hand kept me from putting a bullet hole through
Lightning’s driver-side window.

“Miss
Humphert, how many times have I told you that sneaking up on a policeman is not
conducive to living a long life?”

“I’m
sorry, Cyrus, I’m just so excited this morning. I caught the hint you left me
the other day, and I went out and bought us something.”

I
looked up, terrified. My neighbor stood holding something that hardened my
arteries almost as much as she did. I couldn’t believe that God would punish me
like that. And I had even prayed before I left the house. My neighbor stood
holding a couple of boxes with the letters “W i i” on them, and one of them
also had the letters “F i t.” I was so overcome that I failed to notice that
her rat had untied my shoelaces. Even the dog knew you don’t step on a Wii
board with shoes on.

“Cyrus,
our very own Wii. Just for the two of us.”

“And
I hope that you and Muffy are happy with it.”

“It’s
Twinkle Toes, Cyrus. You know that. You wouldn’t believe how excited Twinkle
Toes was when I showed her the Wii yesterday. She knew it was for her Cyrus,
the man whose toes she’ll lick as he Wiis. Oh, Cyrus, can we get started now?”

I
stood there, wondering if I could plead justifiable homicide and get away with
it.

“You
may get started now. Don’t stop until you get to the Atlantic Ocean. No, make
that the Pacific. It’s farther. Run to the Ocean, put the board down on the
water, and hop on. Start doing the hula, and when you start to go ‘glug, glug,
glug,’ it means your time is up.”

“Oh,
Cyrus, is this your way of telling me that you want to go away to a deserted
island together?”

“Miss
Humphert, I have work to do now. Another murder, you know. Why don’t you go
away somewhere, far away somewhere, and take your Wii and your Wii rat, and
then send me a postcard when you get there. I’ll send someone to Wii with you
as soon as I can.”

“Cyrus,
you know that Twinkle Toes and I don’t want anyone but you. I want us to stand
on the Wii board and exercise together.”

When
she said that, I smiled. Not because I wanted to get anywhere near her, but if
I could get any two people on Lou’s board at one time, there was a good chance
it would break. The board holds up to 330 pounds. Could it be that my two ways
of ending any more Wii experiences for myself would be find two people heavy
enough to break Lou’s board, or gain enough weight so that I would be over the
limit all by myself? Do I see eating three desserts at each meal in my future?

My
next-door neighbor misinterpreted my smile and lunged toward me. I maneuvered
to get away from her, but tripped over the shoelace that the mutt had untied,
banged my knee on Lightning’s door, and began to hop on one foot.

“That’s
great, Cyrus. Is that one of the Wii exercises?”

Without
answering, I grabbed the door and yanked it open. At the least it would offer
me an obstacle between myself and
that woman
. At the worst it would make
contact with her knee and cause her to hop as I had done. Maybe it would conk
the dog on the head at the same time. I dove into my car, shut and locked the
door as quickly as possible. Only then did I smile at my neighbor. I started
the car and shifted into reverse. My neighbor and her varmint jumped out of the
way. I would ask for God’s forgiveness, but I would do so with my eyes open and
as I drove down the street and away from my neighbor.

+++

I
stopped by to give Lou a ride to the restaurant where he no longer eats. Well,
no longer eats man-size portions of good food. God intended for us to eat
everything except what hung from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, and
since I have never seen that tree, I can eat everything. Of course everything
doesn’t mean things man dreamed up, like tofu, and yogurt, and those other
things found in an unhealthy food store.

When
I got over my tirade that was not really a tirade, Lou informed me that God’s
message for the day was “John Dickson Carr.” A few months ago that name would
have meant nothing to me. After reading some of the great classic mysteries, I
learned that John Dickson Carr was the originator of the “locked room
mysteries.” Could it be that someone had entered the victim’s locked apartment
to murder her?

On
the way to the Blue Moon, partly to update Lou on what had transpired and
partly as a diversion to rid my brain of thoughts of Lou the Non-Eater, I
filled in my partner in crime solving about what Frank had told me. I mulled
over our possibilities over breakfast and decided our best avenue was to go
back to the murder scene, see if it enlightened us about the murder, and, if
not, sit down with Lou and think of questions to ask each of our suspects.

+++

I
plopped up onto my stool at the Blue Moon and turned to look for Rosie. She
grinned and winked at me. I had never known the woman to be drunk, so I
couldn’t imagine why she was acting in this manner. She sashayed over to me,
looked down at me and said, “Hi, ya, Handsome. How about some hugs and kisses?”

I
turned to Lou and could tell from his look that he wasn’t in on whatever game
Rosie was playing. A few women had made me uncomfortable before, but never
Rosie. I wanted the Rosie I had come to know, not this woman, although I
suspected it was an act. I just couldn’t figure out why.

“I’ve
got a present for you that can change your life. Hold on a minute. I’ll be right
back.”

I
turned to Lou as soon as she left. He was either a good actor or had no idea
what Rosie was up to. I cringed as I wondered if Rosie thought one of those “W”
things could change my life. I didn’t have to panic long. In less than a minute
she ricocheted through the swinging door carrying a cylindrical object about
three inches in diameter and a foot or so high. It was wrapped in silver paper,
possibly aluminum foil. Rosie knew that I don’t drink alcohol, so I couldn’t
imagine what was inside the package. Not only wasn’t it something to drink, I
could tell that it was too small to be anything from the Wii family.

“Why
don’t you open it? I think it will make your day.”

Gently,
she sat the object down on the counter in front of me. At least no one else was
in the diner at the time, so I reached out and ripped the paper, hoping that
whatever was inside wouldn’t embarrass me. When I had ripped away enough of the
wrapping paper to see what was inside, I started laughing.

“I
should have known. A woman after my own heart.”

“I
think you’ll have a harder time breaking these.”

I
looked down at the large plastic cylinder filled with many colors of wrapped
candy, all shaped like Hershey kisses. Rosie informed me that some were milk
chocolate all the way through, while others were filled with almonds, cherries,
or caramel, while still others contained white chocolate. She let me know if I
was picky, I could read the strip of paper that protruded from each candy
morsel. I would give them a try. No longer would I scare someone when I yanked
my knife from my pocket in order to cut apart a piece of candy because two nuts
were side by side. Maybe I would save the Hershey Almond bars for those
occasions when dire straits kept me from food, and eat the kisses and hugs when
I just needed a bite to keep me going. It might be hard for this old dog to try
a new trick, but I would try.

I
had hoped to arrive at Parkway Arms undetected. My plan was to head immediately
to Mrs. Higgins’ apartment and hole up there with Lou and see if the possible
scene of the crime enlightened us as to how the murder might have been
committed. I pulled into the Visitors Parking area, stepped from the car, and
heard the sound of a lawn mower. Evidently Monday is the day Wally mows the
grass, and if my hearing was right, he was somewhere in the expansive backyard.
Unless he whipped around the side of the house we would have no problem gaining
entrance to the place without him seeing us. Lou and I walked more quickly than
usual. We arrived at the front door, stepped inside and saw no one except the
officer on duty. I had considered relieving him of duty, since I didn’t see
anyone fleeing from the building, but I wanted to wait until after Lou and I
planned our strategy. Quickly, I told him where we were going and told him not
to inform anyone that we were there, unless someone asked for us.

We
hurried to the elevator and saw no one on our way, or in our way. I pushed the
button. The door opened. I looked in, saw that neither woman from my nightmare
was inside waiting for me. I stepped in, pushed the button numbered “2.”
Shortly, the door closed and our quick trip began. Luck was with us. I turned
the key to the victim’s apartment and opened the door. We stepped inside and I
closed the door as quietly as possible. I eased  over  to  the window and
looked out. Wally, riding along on a large mower, looked up and waved. So much
for secrecy. I waved back, and moved away, trying hard not to look like someone
who had gotten caught.

Lou
and I scanned the room. It was not until we did this and looked for ways a
murderer could have entered the room that it hit me. Each of the apartments had
only one escape in case of fire. Evidently recent building codes didn’t include
this monument.

The
obvious way someone could have entered the apartment was through the apartment
door, had the chain latch not been on the door. Or was it? Could it be that the
murderer put it on after the murder, or was Margaret Draper lying to us? We
needed to find out who had keys. Not that everyone who had one would tell us
the truth. The second most obvious entry was limited. The window. The window
had been left unlocked, so someone could have come in that way. Anyone who
happened to be on the back roof. From what I could tell, that limited the
window access to two people, Russell Cochran with a ladder, and Elaine Jewell,
if she walked across the roof. I would check again from the back yard, plus
check with Wally about where the ladder is usually stored and how easily it can
be moved.

Two
down and two to go. I walked over, lifted the glass door to the dumbwaiter and
looked inside. I looked up. I studied the inside of the glass door. As far as I
could tell, a small person could fit inside, but probably only a child, a
jockey, or one of the little people from
The Wizard of Oz
. I pushed the
button. The dumbwaiter didn’t move. Evidently it wouldn’t move unless the door
was shut. I closed the glass door, pushed the button again. The dumbwaiter
moved up to the third floor. I deduced that while the dumbwaiter was large
enough for a small person, it couldn’t be operated by that person. There was no
way to open the small elevator from the inside. Also, it would have been
virtually impossible for someone to get inside and lift a tray of food without
spilling whatever was on the tray.  Lou looked inside the dumbwaiter and
concurred with my deductions, although he didn’t rule out two munchkins in
cahoots.

I
stepped away to the only other hole in the wall, the laundry chute. I looked in
and down. There was no up. There must be a laundry chute for each apartment.
This chute had ample room for most people, but I doubted if anyone would be
dumb enough to step in and drop to the basement. I thought about letting Lou be
my guinea pig and see if he survived the fall. Then I thought better of that
idea. Hazel Allnut was a bigger pain, plus she was older and wouldn’t be missed
as much if the trip was too much for her. I shook my head, whispered “Get thee
behind me Satan,” and hoped that would be enough to satisfy God. I looked like
I was back to square one, or one and two. The front door and the window. The
door sounded better, but I checked the window again to see if the trees were
close enough so that someone could hang glide in for a landing on the roof. I
studied the odds, felt hang gliding carried the same odds as the laundry chute,
and then only with a tailwind.

I
couldn’t figure out why I was spending so much time on the ins and outs of the
room. More than likely someone poisoned the old lady at breakfast. Who knows
what a swipe across one end of a stick of butter could do? All someone would
have to do is hand over the butter with the poison end facing the victim. Or
could it be that someone handed out after dinner mints on the stairs? No, the
easier way to kill someone is to put mints in a basket in front of the elevator
just before the person who is addicted to after dinner mints heads back to her
apartment.

Before
I got too far off base, or closer to the truth, I put my exploits behind me. It
was time for my favorite part of every case, or at least most of them. It was
time to pick out an easy chair, plop down in it, and think. My favorite part
was the plopping down part. Thinking is vastly overrated, but not enough people
over the age of thirty spend enough time plopping down in a good old chair or
on a sofa.  I  plopped and Lou followed suit. The furniture was fabric, not
leather, so the sound a leather chair makes when someone of my magnitude plops
down in it was missing. But I was doing what I excelled at, sitting and making
myself comfortable.

It
was time to celebrate. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a Hershey Almond
bar, and carefully removed it from its wrapper. There is something about a
brand new Hershey bar. I never count the almonds. There never seemed to be
enough, but in one way that helped me. I never ate two almonds at one time, and
when one almond was a fair distance from the next, I could simply break it, and
not have to use my knife to sever it.

I
had almost forgotten I now had a second choice. Rosie had put my present inside
a bag, so no one would know what object I carried with me. Let everyone think
it was incriminating evidence. I’d brought the kisses inside to keep them out
of the hot sun. I dumped some of them out on the coffee table and started
separating the colors. I soon learned that the same candy might be in two
different colors of paper, so I read the slip of paper that stuck out of each
candy. Although I wasn’t turning over a lighter leaf, like you know who, I
selected only one kiss of each type. To the best of my knowledge, the only
Hershey kisses I ever had were the ones that have been around forever. I
started with one of those, let it melt in my mouth, then moved on to the one
with the almond inside. Next, I opted for a change of pace and tried the
striped one, which was white chocolate. That left me the cherry and the
caramel. I ate the cherry first, again letting the morsel melt in my mouth.
When I got to the one with the caramel center and the chocolate melted and left
me with the caramel experience, I felt I had discovered a pigmy version of a
delectable dessert. Twenty of those and I would be in heaven. I looked up and
noticed two eyes starring at me, eyes located just above a smile that looked
like Oliver Hardy, minus a semblance of a moustache. I reached down, picked up
one of my miniature chocolates and tossed it to my partner. He peeled  the 
paper  and ate it.  I tossed him another. He tossed it back. Even by feeding
him by microounces, I couldn’t nourish him back to health. At least he ate one.
I couldn’t remember how many days it is that a human can live without
chocolate, but, if nothing else, kiss by kiss I would see that Lou hung on to
that tiny thread of life. I put the lid back on my container of candy and set
it aside. Then, so my Hershey Almond bar would not feel left out, I took a bite
of it.

I
looked up with one eye. I couldn’t believe my one eye, so I used my second one,
too. Wasting Away Lou had reached into his pocket, too, and pulled out a bag of
M&Ms. He ripped the bag open with his teeth. I was thankful he had maintained
enough strength to do that. Could it be that I was getting my old Lou back? He
blew into the bag, opening it so that it would be easy to extract his little
treats. The Lou I knew could guzzle a whole packet in one gulp. My enthusiasm
was short lived. New Lou prevailed. New Lou reached in with formerly chubby
fingers and extracted one M&M. One. Just one. He plopped it into his mouth
and closed it. When was the last time Lou closed his mouth while chewing. But
Lou wasn’t chewing. He was sucking on that one M&M the way I sucked on and
savored my bite of Hershey chocolate. His laid back attitude infuriated me.
Hastily I chewed my chocolate, bit my almond into oblivion, and ripped off
another piece of my candy bar. Would Lou do the same? If so, I was man enough
to keep going as long as he did. But Lou continued to suck on that one M&M.
I doubted if he even knew what color it was.

I
shook my head, eager to clear those negative thoughts from my mind. Surely,
Lou’s wasting away attitude was God’s way of punishing me for wishing mishaps
on my next-door neighbor and Lou’s Wii. I wondered if Mrs. Higgins had
infuriated someone by sucking on one M&M for hours, or had invited one of
her neighbors over to Wii. Surely it would have taken a greater motive than
that to murder someone. Or would it? I didn’t want something to happen to my
friend. I merely wanted  the  friend I had had for years to return. In a way it
was like being married to a woman, only to have someone replace her, someone
who didn’t look nearly as good, and had only some of her personality traits.
I’m not insinuating that Lou has ever looked good to me. I’m not that kind of
guy.

But
enough about Lou. We weren’t there for him. We were there to find out who
murdered Mrs. Higgins.

Evidently
my agitation came through when I spoke, because I spoke much louder than
normal.

I
shouted out, “Well, what do you think, Lou?”

Lou
didn’t need to tell me that my outburst scared him. The M&M that burst from
his mouth and landed in my hand let me know. I asked him if he wanted the slimy
thing back. He refused, but at least he reached into his bag of M&Ms to
replace the one I had caused him to spit.  After I returned from washing the
slime off my hand, Lou replied.

“Think
about what?”

“Any
idea what killed the woman?”

“I
thought you said Frank said it was poison.”

“I
mean any idea who did it and how they did it.”

I
understand that when someone begins to waste away to nothing the brain is one
of the first things to go.

“I
think it was done in this building, Cy.”

“Thank
you, Captain Obvious. Do you want to narrow it down?”

“Well,
I think we can rule out the conservatory and Colonel Mustard.”

“Let’s
narrow it down to the dining room downstairs or the living room where we are.
Would you like to narrow it down any further?”

“I
sure would, Cy, but right now I don’t think we have enough evidence to do
that.”

I
could tell we were getting nowhere, but not as fast as usual. I suggested that
both of us pull out our notebooks and write down any questions that we might
have for any of the people  who  lived at Parkway Arms. We wrote down the name
of each person, whether he or she worked and lived there, or just lived there.
Neither of us uttered a word for the next thirty minutes. Then, we compared
lists. After lunch, we would return and start to interrogate the suspects. I
needed lunch to provide me with the nourishment necessary to talk to some of
those people. Especially the maid who tackled me and the woman upstairs who
wanted to, provided the resident bachelor was not interested in her.