Murder in the Library (5 page)

Our Sunday routine
differs from any other day. The Blue Moon is closed on Sunday, so we begin our
Sundays like any other cop begins a normal day. We feast on donuts. Our church
offers the cream of the donut crop, so Lou and I voice our approval by slipping
a total of one hundred dollars into the donut fund each week. Donuts filled
with custard and covered with chocolate or smothered with caramel and pecans
are a fine way to get everyone in the right frame of mind to receive the
pastor’s message. Lou and I arrive early each week in order to feed the kitty
without being noticed, pluck the first of those tasty morsels, and still get
our back row aisle seats before someone else plops down in them. The only
difference is that lately Lou has cut his donut intake in half. That gave me
something else to pray for. Everyone knows that all of us need to eat enough of
each of the basic food groups, even if we partake of one of them only on
Sunday.

+++

After a restful Sunday
that offered an uplifting church experience, a couple of good dining
experiences at places we don’t go to all week long, and plenty of time to read
and take naps, I woke up Monday morning refreshed. I almost bounded from the
bed. Almost, but not quite. Well, really I never considered bounding. Bounding
is too fast for my taste.

I took care of all the
preliminaries and scurried from the house. Okay, not only do I not bound, I
never scurry either, but I didn’t dilly-dally when I left. Not with that
creature hovering nearby. God really blessed me on that Monday morning. The
only view I had of my neighbor was in my rearview mirror. She doesn’t look so
bad that way, from a block away.

I pulled up in front of
Lou’s apartment and waited for him to join me. He opened the door and looked
worried and unsure of himself. I motioned for him to come on, which seemed to
get him in gear. He hurried out to Lightning, opened the door, and plopped down
on the seat.

“What’s wrong with you?
Did my neighbor’s sister rent the apartment next to yours? Or did someone break
in in the middle of the night and steal your Wii?”

“Worse than that, Cy. I
got a message.”

I didn’t look in the
rearview mirror, but I assume that all of a sudden my look resembled his. For
years, any time someone was murdered, Lou got a message from God. Not a spoken
word, but a thought or thoughts that had something to do with the case we were
to solve. Lou never claimed that the messages were from God, but each day, Lou
got a new message which provided a clue that related to whatever we would
encounter that day. Because it had been only a few days since someone
threatened the Colonel, both of us immediately feared for the Colonel’s life.

“I think we need to go
in and call the Colonel, make sure he’s okay.”

“I agree, Cy.”

We lifted ourselves from
the vehicle and hurried to Lou’s apartment. Lou opened the door and motioned
for me to make the call. After a couple of rings, Martha answered the phone.

“Martha, I’ve something
I need to talk to the Colonel about.”

“He just went out, Cy.
He said something about discovering something and that he needed to spring a
surprise on someone. Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“Not a clue. Did he say
where he was going and when he’ll be back?”

“He said he wouldn’t be
long and told me that today would be a good day for me to run my errands. He
told me he’d get his own lunch, that he had a couple of things to do before Joe
shows up at 3:00 and that he didn’t want to be disturbed. I’ll be leaving
shortly.”

“Okay, I’ll check back
with him later. Thanks.”

I hung up and told Lou
what Martha had said. Neither of us knew the Colonel’s habits, but we didn’t
think that whatever the Colonel had planned was a part of his normal routine.
We spent a few minutes trying to find him before we devoured breakfast. We
cruised down the Colonel’s street a couple of times and rolled down a few other
streets in the neighborhood. There was no activity on the street and no sign of
his car. We drove through the parking lots of a couple of shopping centers in
the area, searching for his car.  Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the Blue
Moon, defeated. We sat in the car, discussing the Colonel, because we never
discuss business in public. One of us remembered that whoever threatened the
Colonel seemed to suggest that whatever would happen to him would happen in his
home, in his library. Could it be that it meant that the Colonel was safe while
he was out? Our only recourse was to pull a few strings and put out a missing
person report on the Colonel. We knew that the Colonel wouldn’t approve, so we
dismissed the idea.

Abiding by the Colonel’s
wishes, we did our best to enjoy ourselves and not bother him when he got home.
We entered the Blue Moon, tried to act normal. Well, normal for us.

“We almost called the
police on the police,” Rosie said.

“Do what?” I replied.

“I was getting worried
about you. You’re never this late. We thought something had happened to you.”

“It did. The good
sergeant and I were involved in a battle to the death game of Clue.”

“Well, we’re out of
food.”

“I guess the sergeant
and I will have to hold you hostage until the cook shows up with more food. We
promise not to tie the ropes too tightly.”

“Oh, tight ropes are the
best.”

“Just get us some food.
I’m in the mood for biscuits with sausage gravy. Lots of biscuits. Lots of
gravy. Also, bacon. And I’ll take an omelet with sausage, red and green
peppers, hot peppers, onions, lots of cheese, and tomatoes.”

“And how about you?”

“I’ll have half of what
he’s having.”

“Except for what?

“Except for nothing.
I’ll have half of what he’s having. I lost the game of Clue, so I’ve to eat
what he’s eating. I never could trust Miss Peacock. It’s those eyes.”

“I know what you mean. I
had a date with that professor once. Some might think he’s a plum, but not me.”

“Just get us our food,”
I said as I realized that that empty feeling I had never felt before might
really be hunger. To gather enough strength to lift my knife and fork, I
reached into my pocket and pulled out a brand new Hershey bar, just plucked
from the refrigerator not two hours earlier.

I’m not superstitious,
but I always start each day with a new Hershey bar. Not that I let the others
go to waste. I finish off each one before I go to bed each night. That way I
always have something to be thankful for when I go to bed.

After we finished eating
and I took Lou back to his place so he could rest between meals, we discussed
our day’s agenda, otherwise known as lunch. Because we were late eating
breakfast, we agreed to be late for lunch, too. There’s something to be said
about choosing your own schedule. It beats a dictatorship every day. Well, it
beats it for everyone but the dictator.

A late lunch allowed me
to finish reading
Death On Demand
before I picked Lou up. Since we read
at about the same pace, he had finished the book too, so we discussed it on the
way to the Blue Moon.

The Blue Moon offers two
types of Swiss steak. The skillet version is a slab of beaten steak with a
thick tomato sauce and green peppers. The baked version contains squares of
meat, chunks of tomatoes, and rings of onions, unbreaded of course. I chose
mine skillet style. Lou opted for baked. Both of us chose corn on the cob and
mashed potatoes with brown gravy as our side dishes. Both of us took time to
play with our food.  Lou picked up an unbreaded onion ring and tossed it toward
a piece of steak. He had me there. I had no game to match his, so I scooped up
some tomato sauce and poured it on top of my pool of gravy that rose from the
pothole I had made in my mountain of potatoes. I pretended I was an artist,
mixing brown and red-orange brushing it on my napkin until I had just the right
shade. Rosie appeared to ignore us until we had finished having fun and had
consumed all the food she had put in front of us.

“So what can I get you
boys for dessert?”

“I’ll have a pecan pie
sundae.”

“And what is a pecan pie
sundae?”

“Listen carefully. You
take a large piece of pecan pie and put it in an even larger bowl.  Then you
mound as much ice cream as will fit on top of the pie. Chocolate ice cream.
Then you hold the bowl under the canister that holds the hot fudge, and you hit
the plunger until you have enough hot fudge on the ice cream that you cannot
tell that it is chocolate ice cream. Follow me so far?”

“I don’t know. This is
mighty complicated.”

“Next, you smother the
concoction with whipped cream, and finish by putting a cherry on top. The
cherry is important, because we are told to eat fruit. And I’ve also heard that
nuts and chocolate are good for you.”

“I’ve heard that, too,”
Rose replied, “only I heard something about moderation.”

“Moderation is for
girls, so they can keep their figures. I need to maintain mine too, and
moderation would make that impossible.”

“As you wish, Master.”
Then, Rosie turned to Lou. “And you, sergeant, do you want the same?”

“I do, except I want
butter pecan ice cream and caramel topping. I had chocolate yesterday, and I
want to be careful I don’t get zits. I’m a dating man. He’s not. He can afford
to live dangerously. I can’t. And could you prepare mine in moderation? I
am
watching my figure.”

“The doctor doesn’t by
any chance have the two of you on some kind of exploratory medication, does he?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, if you have time
when you leave here, you might check with him about that.”

As Lou scampered and I
waddled from the Blue Moon, I looked at my watch. It showed 3:03. The last time we ate lunch that late was when we were working on a murder case. Thoughts of
murder took me back to the Colonel.

We fell into the car,
strapped ourselves in, and loosened our seatbelts as much as possible.

“Say, Lou, I don’t think
you ever told me what today’s message was.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No, we started worrying
about the Colonel. So what is it?”

“
The Hunchback of
Notre Dame
.”

I sat there for a few
seconds, looking at Lou. Then my brain engaged, the part that hadn’t been on
proper medication. I contoured my body to get it to look like The Hunchback I
had seen Charles Laughton play. “Water,” I uttered, in my best imitation of
Charles Laughton playing The Hunchback.

“Sanctuary,” Lou
replied, in his Hunchback voice.

   I must have scared
Lou as I hit the gas and took off. I did, because he told me that I did.

“What’s the matter, Cy?”

“Don’t you get it?
Sanctuary. The Colonel has his sanctuary. I hope we’re not too late.”

A glum look appeared on
Lou’s face. This was one of those times I wished I drove a gas-guzzler. A few
seconds one way or the other might make all the difference in the world.

I pulled up in front of
the Colonel’s house. Lou and I jumped from Lightning almost before it stopped.
We rushed to the door and rapped as loudly as we could. In a few seconds, a man
we didn’t recognize answered the door.

“We’ve come to see the
Colonel.”

“You must be Cy and Lou.
I’m Buck’s friend Joe. Martha has just gone to call you. We’re worried. Buck
and I’ve a standing appointment for 3:00 each Monday afternoon. Neither of us
ever cancels without notifying the other. I got here right at 3:00, rang the bell. Buck didn’t answer, so I walked around back, thinking he might be in
the backyard or on the enclosed back porch. No Buck. So, I came back and rang
again, thinking he might be in the bathroom. Still no answer. Then, I called
him on the phone.”

As the man progressed
with his story, his face grew more downcast.

I heard a noise and
looked up. Martha came running up to us.

“Did Joe tell you? We
can’t find Buck. He doesn’t answer his office phone, his cell phone, or my
knock at the library door. We’re worried.”

“We’ll check it out. You
two wait here.”

“But it takes a key to
get into his office. Buck has the only keys.”

“He used to have the
only keys. He gave one to me last week when we were here. Now, wait here until
one of us comes back for you.”

Like well-trained dogs,
both of them stayed while Lou and I rushed to the library door to try the key.
I looked up at the camera that could tell me nothing. Well, as far as I knew it
couldn’t tell me anything. I slid the key into the lock and turned it.

The Colonel lay on the
floor in front of his desk, facing toward us, but with his head bent toward the
desk. We rushed over to him and felt his pulse. For the first time since my
wife died, I cried. Lou and I embraced, then wiped away our tears. As we
entered the front hall, the looks on our faces told everything.

Martha came running to
us, yelling, “No. No. It can’t be.”

I grabbed her by her
arms, keeping her from entering the library.

“He’s gone, but we don’t
know what caused it. I can’t let you go in yet. I’ve to call the medical
examiner and have him check the Colonel. Regardless, it’s best that you stay
out of the library.”

Once again, reluctantly,
the Colonel’s wife and his friend abided by our wishes. Martha pointed toward a
phone in the living room. I made a call I never expected to or wanted to make.

Assured that the
Colonel’s wife and friend would stay put, Lou and I reentered the library to
see what we could see. We were too upset the first time to notice that the
Colonel clutched a Bible. Several index cards were placed in various places in
the Colonel’s Bible. Four others had fallen from the Bible and were lying next
to the body. Were these the clues the Colonel promised to leave us? Time would
tell.

The two of us returned
to the grieving widow and her husband’s friend. We decided to wait with them
until reinforcements arrived.

Evidently my years as a
cop allowed me to operate in a proper manner, even though I wasn’t thinking
clearly. In addition to Frank Harris, the medical examiner, I summoned our good
friend George Michelson to bring some help, and Louie Palona, the department’s
expert on gadgets and technology. George would bring as many officers as would
be needed, and Frank would see that the lab boys and fingerprint experts were
alerted.

Everyone arrived within
minutes of each other. Once everyone had arrived, we left Officer Dan Davis to
see to Martha and Joe’s comforts, and to see that no one left the hall and
living room area. As others who lived there arrived, Officer Davis was
instructed to keep everyone in the area. There would be rooms to check before
anyone left the immediate vicinity.

I gathered into the
library all those who were there to work.

“As many of you know,
the Colonel was a special friend to Lou and me. Still, we don’t expect anything
from you that we wouldn’t expect if a stranger were murdered.

“Frank, we’d like to
know as soon as possible if the Colonel was murdered.
How
can come
later.
If
needs to come as soon as possible.

“Those of you dusting
for prints, first, I’d like for you to dust the Bible, the desk, the door we
entered, and the secret exit I will show you. I doubt if you find anything, but
we want to know. Please do the Bible first, then hand it to me. It might
contain clues, if there was a murder.

“George, we need a team
to check all the upstairs bedrooms to see if you find anything suspicious. We
want to do this as soon as possible, so that those who live here can get back
to their lives as best they can under the circumstances. We also need someone
else to stay with Officer Davis to see that no one leaves the house or wanders
through it.

“Louie, more than likely
you saw a camera mounted outside the door. You might already know this, but the
camera works on motion. I want you to look at what transpired from the time the
Colonel opened that door this morning until I opened it a little after three.
If you don’t find anything, and I don’t think you will, I want to know if
anyone has tampered with the camera. Also, there is a secret passageway that
was to have been known to no one but the Colonel. We’d like for you to examine
it, and tell us how easy it would be for someone to tamper with it.”

“Lou and I plan to
question the widow and then wait for Frank’s diagnosis. Any questions?”

No one spoke up or
raised a hand.

“Okay, let’s go to
work.”

I motioned for Louie to
join Lou and me.

“I want you to check the
camera first, but as soon as the print guys get through dusting the Bible, I
want to show both of you the secret passageway. After you check out the camera,
give the Colonel’s apparatus in the passageway a going over.”

By the time I finished
giving Louie his additional instructions, the print crew were through with the
Bible. There were no prints on it, other than the Colonel’s, so Lou wrapped it
and secured it. It wouldn’t leave our person.

After seeing that
everyone understood his or her job, Lou and I left to talk to Martha. I was
sure she was wondering what was going on.

“Martha, we need a room
to talk to you privately.”

She ushered us down the
hall to the family room at the other end of the house.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s fine. Let’s have a
seat.”

“Cy, why are all these
policemen here? Didn’t Buck die of a heart attack?”

“We don’t know yet, but
what we do know is that the Colonel summoned Lou and me here last week because
he had received a death threat.”

Martha gasped.

“A death threat. And he
didn’t tell me.”

“Whoever threatened the
Colonel’s life was someone who has access to this house. Who has keys to the
house?”

“But it couldn’t be
anyone with a key. Only those of us who live here have keys. There must be
another explanation.”

“First of all, remember
that we’re working on the assumption that the Colonel was murdered. We don’t
know that yet. There were no marks on his body, at least none that we saw.  We
just know that someone threatened his life, so we are proceeding in this
manner. Of course there could be another explanation. Do you ever leave a door
unlocked?”

“No. At least not on
purpose.”

“What about leaving a
key for a workman?”

“No, one of us was
always here if someone was expected.”

“Do you or your
granddaughters ever leave your purses on the table by the front door, or does
anyone ever leave a key there?”

“My granddaughters. I’d
forgotten all about them. What will they think when they get home?”

“Someone will stay with
them. They’ll be okay. Now, answer my question.”

“I forgot what it was.”

“Is there ever a purse
or a key on the table by the front door?”

“Oh, uh, no. Not that I
can remember. Oh, Cy, there has to be some other explanation.”

“Let me level with you,
Martha. Because Lou and I were special friends of the Colonel, I don’t know if
we will be allowed to pursue the case or not, but if so, we’ll have to ask each
of you some tough questions. Remember, there’s nothing personal. We’re just
doing our job the best we can.”

“I understand.”

“Okay, where were you
today?”

“I went shopping at the
mall.”

“Did anyone go with you,
or did you see anyone you know while you were there?”

“Oh, I can’t remember if
I saw anyone or not. I’m so confused now. But I can tell you that I went
alone.”

“And what time did you
leave, and when did you return?”

“At Buck’s request, I
left shortly after I talked to you, so I got to the mall shortly after it
opened, at 10:00. I shopped, ate lunch there, shopped some more, and got home a
little after 3:00. Buck was out this morning. Do you think someone accosted him
when he got home, followed him into the house?  That would allow for someone
getting into the house without a key.”

“I doubt it. If so, that
someone will show up on the camera following the Colonel into the library.
We'll find that out in time. In the meantime, tell me about when you got home.”

“As I pulled in the
drive, I saw Joe walking away from the house.”

“Any way of knowing if
he had been inside the house?”

“Oh, Joe wouldn’t do
anything. He’s Buck’s best friend.”

“So, what you’re telling
me is that you can’t say if Joe had been in the house, and more than likely, he
can’t say if you returned from the mall early.”

“You don’t think I
killed him?”

“No, I don’t, but all
possibilities have to be pursued, at least until we get a lead. Now, why don’t
we go back and join the others. Don’t say anything about what we talked about,
and we may have to talk to you some more later.”

We returned to the living
room and experienced a double reunion of sorts. All of the house’s occupants
had returned, and the Chief was waiting for Lou and me. Seldom has the Chief
graced the scene of a murder investigation, and I thought I knew why he had
chosen to do so this time.

In a matter of seconds,
Lou and I had returned to the room we’d just left, this time with the Chief in
tow.

“How’s it going so far?”

“We’re just getting
started, Chief, but as you can see, everyone is already hard at work.”

“Yes, I’m impressed. I
think you know why I’m here. I know the deceased was a friend of yours. Frank
just told me he thinks it was murder, so now I want to know if you think you
can handle this like any other case, or do you want me to call in someone from
the outside?”

“It’ll be hard, Chief,
but I think Lou and I’ll be okay. If things begin to be too much for us, I’ll
let you know. But we’d like a chance to solve this one.”

The Chief looked at Lou,
who nodded in agreement.

“Okay, it’s yours for
the time being. I’m not putting any time limit on you, but I’ll be watching. If
I feel the strain is too much for you, I’m calling someone else in.
Understand?”

“Of course we do,
Chief.”

“Now, get busy, but
don’t burn the midnight oil. I’m going home. If you need anything, you’ve got
my number.”

We left the room. The
Chief walked toward the front door. Lou and I headed to the library. As it
turned out, Frank had more information.

Frank looked up as we
entered the room and motioned for us to come over. He’d found a mark on the
Colonel’s throat that resembled a pin prick. His guess was that the Colonel was
shot with a blowgun or some such apparatus, only the poisoned dart was nowhere
to be found. Louie complicated things even more when he reported that the
camera showed that no one had entered or left the room between the time the
Colonel left the room at 8:53, and when Lou and I unlocked the door at 3:23,
and to the best of his knowledge no one had circumvented the Colonel’s
invention that kept others from entering the library through the passageway.
Louie said someone could’ve done it, but it would’ve taken far longer than a
murderer would’ve wanted to remain in the house. Because the camera was
operational, and the Colonel hadn’t entered the library through the customary
door, that meant that when he returned from his errand that he had entered the
library through the secret passageway. But why that way, instead of the way he
usually entered? Could it be that someone held a weapon on the Colonel and
forced his or her way into the library and didn’t want to be photographed in
the process? Still, that didn’t compute, either. If someone had forced the
Colonel into the library and shot him with a poisoned dart, how did that person
get out? Only the Colonel knew how to open the passageway exit from the inside,
and no one was hiding in the room below. Officers had checked that area
thoroughly. I continued to look for a scenario where someone could’ve entered
and exited the room without anyone knowing. Oh, where was John Dickson Carr,
the author of the locked room mysteries, when I needed him?