The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady (7 page)

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Authors: Parnell Hall

BOOK: The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady
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“Yes, it is like
Fatal Attraction
. Mrs. Fielding will not let go of this man. But it is not a movie. He is not the hero, the star, the good man in the movie. He is a bad man. If the woman will not
let him free, he will free himself of her. What does he do? He sees the husband drinking in a bar. The husband is drunk, gets into a fight. Perhaps he even helps to start the fight. The husband is arrested. The lover makes sure the husband is in prison, then goes to see the wife. He kills her, puts her body in the freezer for an hour. Sets the scene and leaves the house. The time of death is changed. It will look like the husband killed his wife, went to the bar and got arrested so he will have an alibi for the time she is killed. He was too stupid to know the medical examiner could tell the time of death.”
Cora shook her head. “That's convoluted, even for me.”
“It is fantastic, yes? And yet it works. If the police think it is an accidental death, that is fine. If the police believe it is a murder, the person with the opportunity is the husband, not the lover. It is the perfect crime.”
Chief Harper said, “Cora?”
“Yes?”
“What about it?”
“What about it? That is the most ridiculous, farfetched, double-think I ever heard. The idea a person would do such a thing. It defies credulity. It is the type of plot that when I read it in a book—”
“I know, I know, you throw the damn thing across the room. But would it work?”
Cora nearly gagged. “Yes, it
could
work. And walking around Times Square in a signboard WILL MARRY RICH MAN FOR CASH could work, too, but that doesn't mean I'm going to try it. The likelihood of such an occurrence is so remote—”
“But it
could
work?”
Cora's mouth snapped shut. She gawked at the chief in helpless frustration.
Irving Swartzman hopped to his feet. “Excellent! Our work here is done. Come, ladies. Let's leave the police chief to his job.” The agent smirked. “Now that he knows what it is.”
Minami marched proudly out of the office, her niece trailing insolently along behind her.
“Technically you won,” Sherry pointed out.
Cora sat sulking in the passenger seat. “In what way did I win?”
“Well, she said Jason killed his wife. You said he didn't. It would appear she was wrong and you were right.”
“I said it was an
accident
. I didn't say she was killed by someone else.”
“Neither of you did. It was a straightforward bet. She bet she could prove he did it. You bet you could prove he didn't.
She
proved he didn't. Therefore she failed to prove he did. Therefore you win.”
“Is that like a Pyrrhic victory?”
“What do you know about Pyrrhic victories?”
“They're not as good as real ones.”
“Cora …”
“That arrogant, insufferable, kimono-wearing woman. I can't say that. It sounds racist. That arrogant, insufferable, sudoku-making woman.”
“That could describe you. Good thing you're not arrogant and insufferable.”
“Oh, nasty girl. When you were single, you didn't have such a lip.”
“I'm trying to jolt you out of your self-induced doldrums into the real world.”
“Self-induced doldrums.”
“Okay. Competitive-amateur-detective-theory-induced doldrums. The point is, this is a big deal about nothing.”
“Chief Harper doesn't think it's about nothing.”
“Why?”
“Are you kidding me? That woman just threw a bloodstain in his lap. He's gotta ignore it or deal with it. Dealing with it is an immensely complicated waste of time. Ignoring it is like walking in legal quicksand. If he ignores it and something comes of it, that's the type of omission that could cost a cop his job.”
“What do you think he's gonna do?”
“I have no idea.”
“He's clearly going to ignore it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he let you walk out of there.”
“You were with me. He's not going to incriminate himself in front of a witness.”
“Incriminate himself?”
“You wanna bet he calls me back in?”
“I don't think you wanna be betting. Betting is how you got into this whole mess.”
Cora described Sherry in terms that would have impressed your average drill sergeant.
Sherry said nothing, piloted the Toyota around the curve.
After a while, Cora said, “I can't let her get away with it.”
“Oh, no.”
“I can't, Sherry. I have Chief Harper to think of. If I did nothing and he got fired, I'd feel awful.”
“Plus Minami would win.”
“That's not the point. True, rubbing her nose in it would be an added bonus. It's really for Chief Harper.”
“What do you have to do?”
“What I have to do is prove Mrs. Fielding wasn't having an affair.”
“Isn't that next to impossible?”
“Why?”
“It's proving a negative. Isn't that what you always say? If she's having an affair, it's easy to prove. If she's not having an affair, you have to prove there was no opportunity whatsoever for her to have an affair. Which is damn near impossible.”
“You're learning,” Cora said.
“I'm glad to hear it. The point is, how do you plan to do it?”
“I'll start with the neighbors.”
“Don't you think Minami's done that?”
“Yeah. Maybe I should just ask
her
,” Cora said sarcastically.
“According to Minami, the woman never had visitors but often went out.”
“Does that mean the neighbors are no help?”
“
You're
certainly no help.”
Sherry smiled. “Nothing like competition to bring out the best in you.”
“Yeah, right.”
Sherry turned into the drive.
There was a black rental car parked in front of the house.
“Who the hell is that?” Cora said.
“I have no idea.”
“Expecting someone?”
“No.”
“If that's our Japanese friend, I'm going to send her packing.”
Sherry pulled up next to the car and stopped.
Dennis Pride got out.
Cora flung open the door, hopped out, and put herself between Dennis and her niece.
“Sherry, call the cops!”
Dennis put up his hand. “Please.”
“That's closer than a hundred yards.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“No, you need to leave. Sherry, get inside!”
“Dennis, please.”
“Don't talk to him!” Cora snapped. “You're just playing into his hands. Go on. Get inside.”
“I'm not leaving you alone with him.”
Cora reached into her drawstring purse and pulled out her gun. “I'll be fine. If he doesn't leave, I'll shoot him.”
Dennis smiled. “No, you won't.”
“Wanna bet?”
“It's not even loaded.”
Cora pointed the gun at the sky, pulled the trigger. The report was deafening. She trained the smoking gun on Dennis. “Change your mind?”
“Now, see here.”
“Sherry, make the call.”
“I'm trying to tell you something. Don't you want to know that Japanese woman's been snooping around?”
“Good-bye, Dennis.”
“I did a little snooping myself. Guess what I found out?”
Cora glowered at him. Still, she couldn't help asking, “What's that?”
“Mrs. Fielding had a boyfriend.”
Steve Preston was a handsome young man, with a square jaw and a crewcut, and lithe muscles rippling under his fashionably casual suit. “Uh oh. What's wrong?”
“Why should anything be wrong?”
“You're the Puzzle Lady. When you show up, people die.”
“I wondered how long it would take to get that reputation. As it happens, someone
is
dead. Mrs. Fielding.”
“Oh.”
“You know her?”
“Sure. Jason's wife.”
Cora raised an ironic eyebrow. “Yeah. That's probably the best way to refer to her.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Rumor has it you knew her better than you knew Jason.” Cora shrugged. “Unless you have some proclivities I'm not aware of.”
“Now, see here—”
Cora grimaced, shook her finger. “Bad move. When a person begins lecturing an interrogator, it's a sure sign a question hit home. Let's save some time. You and Ida Fielding were having an affair. She's dead. You're married, so you can't let on you care. It's only me. I'm on your side. I could give you a course on home-wrecking one-oh-one. So, cut the crap and let's talk turkey. Otherwise, you can do your talking to the police.”
“No police.”
“Fine. Did you see Mrs. Fielding the night she died?”
“No.”
“Try again.”
“Yes.”
“Better answer. If you saw her at her house, the neighbor would know. The neighbor didn't. Where did you see her?”
“At the mall.”
“At the mall?”
“Yes.”
“When was that?”
“Seven thirty. Quarter to eight.”
“No, no, no. I don't mean at suppertime. I mean later, after Jason went out.”
“I didn't see her then.”
“Someone did.”
“No one did. It was an accident.”
“What if it wasn't? What if she was killed?”
“Then Jason did it.”
“Jason has an alibi. He's also got a lawyer. You don't. A lawyer's a huge advantage in a situation like this. Particularly getting
in on the ground floor. By the time the cops get to you, Jason will have established a whole bunch of stuff you'll have a hard time disproving.”
“What are you talking about?”
“How do you fool the neighbor?”
“Huh?”
“You must have some way of getting into the house without Mrs. Snoopedygidget getting wise. What do you do—cut through the neighbor's yard, sneak up to the back door? Where do you park your car then?”
Steve's eyes flicked.
“God, I'd love to play poker with you,” Cora said. “You don't have a game, do you?”
“What?”
“So, your wife doesn't know about the affair. Where does she think you go?”
“Leave my wife out of this.”
“There's a nice phrase. You say it to Mrs. Fielding much? Bet it came up a lot.”
“I'm going to ask you to leave.”
“Of course you are.” Cora smiled. “Seen any Japanese women lately?”
“Huh?”
“Don't worry. You will. If that moron Dennis could find you, they can't be far behind.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I'm just saying you better start working on your alibi. And guess what, it's not just from eleven o'clock on anymore.”
“What?”
Cora smiled. “Ask the Japanese woman.”
Michiko snuck out of the Country Kitchen dining room to meet Dennis Pride, who had dropped in for a drink after work. Though “dropped in” was perhaps the wrong choice of words, gave the impression Dennis was just passing by. In point of fact, his last client was in Westport, a good forty-five-minute drive and not in the right direction. No matter. The man knew where he wanted to drink.
Dennis was glad to see her. He already had the genial expansiveness of a man on his second scotch. “Oh, look who's here. Your auntie let you out?”
“She's in the dining room.”
“Eating?”
“We just ordered.”
“What are you having?”
“The prime rib.”
“Good choice. Unless you're a vegetarian. You're not a vegetarian, are you?”
“Don't be stupid.”
“Can't help it. I was born that way.”
Michiko giggled. “You're silly.”
“Your aunt solved the crime yet?”
“What crime?”
“That's right. The police still think it's an accident. You want a drink?”
“No.”
“You're not old enough, are you?”
“I just don't want a drink.”
“So what's your story?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on. Young girl like you. Hanging out with your aunt. Doesn't seem like much of a vacation.”
“It's not a vacation.”
“What is it?”
“It's a trip to America.”
“Yeah, but it's not much fun. No kids your age.”
Michiko stuck out her chin. “I'm not a kid.”
“Of course not. But you're not an old lady, either. What are you doing here?”
“Having dinner.”
“Now
you're
being silly. What are you doing in Bakerhaven? Not exactly a prime vacation spot. Unless you're a rabid antique collector. Are you a rabid antique collector?”
“You are teasing me.”
“Yes, and you love it. Gotta be a break from looking out for your aunt. What's her trouble? She drinks? Does drugs? Picks up teenage boys?”
“That is not nice.”
“The boys like it.”
“You are being silly again.”
“You're being evasive. Why do you travel with your aunt? Is she your legal guardian?”
Michiko frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Do you have parents?”
“Everyone has parents.”
“Are your parents alive?”
“Yes, of course.”
“No ‘of course' about it. People die. Sometimes they get killed. Like Mrs. Fielding.”
“Do you think she was killed?”
“What do you think?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I always do when women try to pick me up in bars.”
Michiko's mouth fell open. “I am not trying to pick you up.”
“Of course not. You just happened to come in here. You're not having a drink. You've already ordered dinner. Your prime rib's probably sitting there getting cold. You're not trying to pick me up at all.”
“You are rude.”
“Of course I am. If I was nice, you wouldn't like me.”
“Why do you say such silly things?”
“You have parents in Japan and you came here with your aunt, but it wasn't for fun because you're not having any. I keep thinking you're along to keep her out of trouble.”
“You are wrong.”
“Is her English bad? Do you have to interpret for her?”
“Michiko!”
Their heads turned.
Minami stood in the archway to the dining room. Arms out, face stern, yards of silk making her look like a predatory bird. “What are you doing? Our food is at the table. You are not. Instead, you are here. Is this not the young man from the mall? How dare you, sir! My niece is but a child.”
“Mi-na-mi!” Michiko whined.
“No more!” Minami pointed imperiously. “Go!”
Michiko glared at her aunt and, tossing her head, sulked and pouted her way from the room.
“Leave my niece alone. She is under age.”
“How old is she?”
“That is not your concern.”
“She was telling me why you need her here. I thought it might be to interpret, but you speak very well. Is it to keep you out of jail?”
It seemed to Dennis that Minami's eyes flicked. She glared at him then turned to go.
“Did you know Mrs. Fielding had a boyfriend?”
Minami stopped.
Dennis grinned. “You must not have, since he hadn't seen you yet.”
She turned back. “What are you talking about?”
“The Puzzle Lady's already seen him. Can the Sudoku Lady be far behind? Only thing is, she thought I followed you there. Like I have no skills of my own. So, you're behind her. And she's behind me. And the cops haven't got a clue. They're behind all of us.”
“Who is this man?”
“Ah, now you're interested? I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.”
“You are impertinent.”
Dennis grinned. “Yes, I am. Feels great, by the way. But that's what winning is all about.”
“I don't believe you. There is no such man.”
“That's a good attitude to take. It saves face and keeps you from having to do anything. Of course, you feel stupid when the facts come out.”
“What facts?”
“Send your niece back.”
“What?”
“I can talk to her. I can't talk to you.”
“You
cannot
talk to her.”
“As you like.” Dennis turned back to the bar and picked up his drink.
Minami glared at him for a moment, then went back to her table.
Michiko, without waiting for her, was cutting into the prime rib.
“Stay away from that man.”
“Why?”
“He is not a nice man.”
“Why, because he likes me?”
“He does not like you. He wants to use you.”
“Use me how, Auntie?”
“To get to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. We have to be careful. We are not in our homeland.”
Michiko made a face. “Please. When you say things like that, you make it sound like we are in a spy novel.”
“We are in a foreign country. We are not speaking in our native
tongue. It is not so easy to be clever with words. It is possible to make a slip.”
“And wouldn't that be
awful
. If we were to be
embarrassed
. To lose
face
.”
“You are rude.”
“Oh, pooh.” Michiko sawed at her meat. “You just do not want me to have any fun.”
“That is not true.”
“It is so.”
“Do you think it is fun to drink with men in bars?”
“I did not say that.”
“What fun are you not having?”
“I am not having
any
. I am just following you around. It is boring.”
“You knew it would not be Disney World.”
“Oh, pooh.” Michiko made a face. “And then you have to pretend to solve a crime.”
“I do not pretend.”
Michiko pushed a carrot around on her plate. “What do we do tomorrow?”
“I have an interview with a newspaper.”
“Oh.” The girl rolled her eyes. “Whoopdedo.”
From the door to the bar, Dennis Pride watched the two women with interest.
Now how could he make something out of that?

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