Murder at the Book Fair (22 page)

Our first stop when we got to
Frankfort
was
Georgetown
's Market & Deli. We walked in
and immediately I spotted someone who matched the description I was given for
Georgetown
.

"You must be
Georgetown
. We have a couple of friends in
common. Cyril Portwood and Dan Grimes."

The man looked like he was
thinking.

"Neither name sounds
familiar. Are you sure I know them?"

"I thought you did. How about
Lori Wildwood and Jonnetta Jarvis?"

"Oh, those two lovely ladies
I know. They stop in from time to time. They're both authors, you know. And
just getting started. I've tried to help them get off to a good start in their
writing career."

"And how did you do
that?"

"Well, I'll tell you as long
as you don't let it get back to them. I have a couple of customers who love
reading mysteries. I do, too. When I found out both women had written a book I
bought a copy, and really enjoyed both books. Have you read them yet?"

"I've bought both of them,
but I've been too busy to read them so far. But I'm looking forward to
it."

"Please read them. And tell
others about them."

"You were about to tell me
something that I can't repeat to either author."

"Oh, yeah! Well, like I said,
I have a couple of customers who enjoying reading mysteries as much as I do, so
I asked them to go to the book fair and buy a book by both women, and to find
some friends who would be willing to do the same."

"How much money did you give
them?"

"How did you know I gave
anyone money?"

"I talked to one of the women
you gave money to."

"Then you probably already
know that I gave each one a hundred dollars. Remember. This is our secret.
Don't let it get back to those charming women."

"So, did they write down the
authors' names, so they wouldn't forget?"

"No, I was prepared for that.
I gave each one a printed copy with both women's names on it, and the name of
their books."

"And did you give anyone else
money to buy books?"

"No. I don't have enough
money to make them millionaires. Just enough to get them off to a good start. I
hope both of them did well that day."

"I think they did. And you
don't know those men I asked you about?"

"Maybe by face. You wouldn't
happen to have a picture of them, would you?"

"As a matter of fact, I
do."

I had an envelope in my hand that
contained a picture of each of the people involved in the case. I pulled out a
picture of those two and
Georgetown
looked at it.

"No, I don't think either of
them has been in here. Neither of them look familiar, but then I see a lot of
people."

"One more question. How did
you get the nickname
Georgetown
?"

"Well, when I first got to
Frankfort
, as a young guy, I kept talking
about missing home.
Georgetown
. So my friends started calling me
Georgetown
, and the nickname stuck. Not a
lot of people are called
Georgetown
, so it helps people remember me,
and remember my place here."

It was getting close to lunch time
so Lou and I bought a sandwich, some chips, and a drink, and then I thanked
Georgetown
for his time. I had hoped
Georgetown
would crack the case open for me,
but instead the pieces of paper left behind at the book fair led to a dead end.

+++

After Lou and I scarfed down our
lunch, we headed to the first bank. I was anxious to find out two things. Had
anyone made a deposit of $50,000 at one time, or several deposits that, when
added would come close to that amount? And two, was anyone in trouble
financially? I particularly wanted to know if anyone who would inherit was in
financial trouble. The only
Frankfort
resident who was on my list who had made large deposits over the last several
years was Portwood's attorney, Bert McHugh. But none were for $50,000, and all of
them seemed aboveboard.

I learned all I could about Dan
Grimes. He had really come into some money after his mother's death, and
someone at the bank, who knew his mother personally said that she died of
cancer, so there was nothing suspicious about her death. Grimes had several
hundred thousand dollars in his accounts and had made no large deposits.

Archie and Hazel Portwood were
practically living day to day. Their checking account had less than one
thousand dollars in it and they had no savings account, and on more than one
occasion they had been overdrawn. Their brother on the other hand, was worth
several million, and a good glance at his account over the last year didn't
show anything unusual except for a $50,000 withdrawal each year.

It took us all afternoon to check
out the bank accounts of those whom we were interested in. Luckily, we were
able to gather all of our information by only going to two banks. When nothing
showed up out of the ordinary with either of the women authors' accounts, that
left only Jake Cartwright and Portwood's two neighbors, back on that country
road outside of
Westport
. So far I had followed the money
and had learned nothing. 

+++

We weren't going home, so we
checked back in at the Capital Plaza Hotel. We even managed to get the same two
rooms we had had before. That meant another view of the river and the park
across from the hotel. If the weather had been warmer, I might have taken a
walk over to that park. The weather didn't stop some people from doing that,
because I saw a few small specks moving about as I looked down from the window
of my room.

It was dinner time by  the time
Lou and I checked in, threw our belongings down, and fluffed our pillows. We
had nothing to do, so we decided on a leisurely dinner. We didn't discuss the
case out in public, but when we got back to the hotel we retreated to my room
and Lou and I spent the rest of the night trying to make sense out of anything
we had learned. As far as we could tell, no one had a motive for murder except
someone who was mentioned in Portwood's will. That made me think that whoever
murdered him was someone who wasn't mentioned in the will. With our luck it was
someone we hadn't met yet and wouldn't meet for another month or two.
Frustrated, Lou retreated to his room and before long we were both dreaming of
finer times.

When I woke Tuesday morning, I
refrained from calling Lou's room, calling Lou on his cell phone, knocking on
his door, or sending the maid over with a note, demanding to know our clue of
the day. Instead I tried to be patient. I opened the drapes, saw that God had
blessed us with a sunny day. I took a few seconds to enjoy it before heading
for a drenching in the shower and to shave. Feeling much better, I picked up my
devotional book and my Bible, and headed to a comfortable chair. After I
finished reading I prayed and then I just sat there. I didn't move until I
heard a knock at the door. I narrowed my list of visitor possibilities down to
Lou, the maid, or someone with a guilty conscience coming to confess to
Portwood's murder. I opened the door to find Lou and the maid standing there.

"Cy, this nice young lady
would like to clean your room now, and I thought maybe you and I could go
downstairs and partake of some breakfast while she does that. Would that be
okay with you?"

It was hard not to laugh at Lou's
proper use of the English language, but seeing the maid looking uncomfortable
helped me to hold it in. I felt like saying, "I acquiesce," but
instead muttered that that would be fine.

While we were eating breakfast I
refrained from asking Lou about the clue that I very much wanted to know. As we
walked back to the lobby, there was always someone close by, so I kept quiet.
There was someone waiting for the elevator, so other than smiling at the couple
and wishing them a good day, I did nothing to show that I cared about any such
clue. The couple got off on the eighth floor, but walked the other way and were
already in their room by the time I slid my card key into its slot to open my
door. I was so caught up in wanting to know the clue that I failed to see that
my room door was open. Seeing no one around, I grabbed Lou by the shirt collar,
propelled him into my room and up against the wall when I noticed the maid
coming out of the bathroom.

She sputtered at first, but then
managed to say, "I'm sorry, but I forgot the towels." I was sure that
she wouldn't be making a return trip to my room and was hoping that Lou and I
would be checking out soon. As soon as she left, Lou laughed out loud.

"Cy, I know you don't love
me."

"How do you know that?"

"Because 1 Corinthians 13
says that love is patient, love is kind, and love doesn't demand its own way.
But if there is something you would like to ask me, go ahead. I am a forgiving
man."

"Well, I was kind of
wondering if God gave you a message for us today?"

"Is God omniscient?"

"He is, but I'm not. So does
that mean He gave you today's clue to aid and abet us?"

"He did. He said that if
anyone needs aiding and abetting it's you."

"I doubt that He said that,
so just tell me what today's clue is."

"How do you like your
coffee?"

"How do you like your
coffee?"

"Cy, you know I don't drink
coffee a lot, but when I do I drown it with milk and sugar. But if you paid
attention at breakfast you noticed that I drank only orange juice and water
with lemon."

"Lou, I think you need to
take early retirement from your early retirement."

"Is that because I drank only
water and orange juice?"

"No. It was just an
observation."

"Does this mean I should
solve the case because you can't or I should go home?"

Some people go away if you ignore
them. That didn't work with Lou, but then I prefer to work with Lou, so I cut
him some slack. Besides, I pushed him up against the wall of my room a little
harder than I meant to.

"Okay, let's go with the
assumption that coffee has something to do with Portwood's murder. Is that okay
with you, Lou?"

"Whatever you say, Your
Majesty."

"That's more like it. Only I
prefer Your Excellency."

"I'll wait on that until
after you solve the murder."

"So, now we look for the
coffee, or the coffee grounds, or the coffee drinker, or the poison in the
coffee."

"I guess so. You are the
learned one. I am merely your humble servant."

"Lou, I think it's time you
quit taking your medication."

"But I'm not on any medication."

"Then for Pete's sake start
taking something."

"Cy, I hate it when you get
wishy-washy. Did you have plans for us today?"

"We need to head over to
Lawrenceburg and check on Cartwright's finances. Maybe he made a $50,000
deposit in the bank."

"If not, does that mean we're
headed to
Westport
?"

"I'm not sure. And the bank
might be in LaGrange."

If we had to go there I hoped the
bank was in LaGrange. The roads were a little wider. And I certainly didn't
want to go back to Portwood's house. The only good thing about going there was
there was no traffic in his neighborhood. That is if you don't count the bull.
They don't list bull obituaries in the newspaper, so I didn't know if Elmer was
still living and still patrolling the road. I wasn't going to stop to inquire.
A woman who smokes a pipe probably owns a shotgun and knows how to use it.

My van was equipped for Bluetooth
and my phone had it, and I had no idea what that meant. But I did know that it
allowed me to make a call from my van without having to hold a phone in my
hand. I stopped long enough to set all of this in motion and called Herb
Wainscott to see where I might have to go in case I had to visit Millie
Longacre's and Bob Barney's banks.

"Cy, how's the world treating
you?"

"Much better than you
are."

"You mean after I treated you
to a fine lunch and took you away from a life of boredom. Are you trying to
tell me the murderer didn't leave you enough clues to figure this thing out
yet."

"No, I'm not saying that. But
I am saying that if he or she did so, I haven't found them yet. But on to the
matter at hand. Where do Portwood's neighbors bank?"