The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady (9 page)

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Authors: Parnell Hall

BOOK: The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady
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Cora whipped out her cell phone and called Chief Harper. “Chief, it's Cora. I just found Sheila Preston, dead. Come and take charge.”
At least that was the fantasy that raced through her head as she stood there. The chance of it happening was slim. For one thing, Cora didn't have a cell phone. For another, calling the police, though the right and proper thing to do, was not high on her list of options.
Cora took a quick look around to make sure that in addition to the sudoku there wasn't any damn crossword puzzle. She found none.
Okay. Good. Now let's make sense of the scene. Minami comes to interview the woman and …
Panics and runs away?
Nonsense. Why would she do that? She got freaked out by the sudoku? No way. She's the Sudoku Lady. She
expects
a sudoku. The killer's bound to leave her one.
So why hightail it out of there? Why not call the cops? What is it about the sudoku … ?
Cora stopped.
Her mouth fell open.
Minami calls on the woman, finds her dead.
There
is
no sudoku.
Minami
plants
a sudoku. To make herself important. To make it appear that the killer is taunting her. To involve herself in the investigation of the crime.
In which case, she doesn't want to discover the body. She wants someone
else
to discover the body.
Cora was damned if it was going to be her.
She glanced around. Was there anything she hadn't noticed? No. Was there anything she'd touched? Just the door. No problem there. She'd have to touch the door. She could leave.
Except …
Was the woman dead?
That was rather major. She should make sure that she's dead. How could she do that? Give her another whack with the poker? Old joke. Feel her pulse?
Pulse, hell. She's dead as a doorknob.
The one she touched.
God, she was losing it.
Get out, get out, get out.
Cora came out the front door, hurried down the walk. Saw no one. Slipped into her car.
Okay, now what?
Drive to the police station, get Chief Harper. No. That was as bad as finding the body.
Telling
him she found the body. Worse. She should have
stayed
with the body. No, what she needed was someone
else
to find the body. A neighbor, maybe. Let's see. How could she motivate a neighbor?
The direct approach. Bang on a neighbor's door. Say she'd been ringing the doorbell and getting no answer, but the woman had to be there because her car was there, and did the neighbor see her go out? Get the neighbor interested. Talk the neighbor into coming with her. Let the neighbor discover the door was ajar. “How stupid of me, I should have noticed. Do you think we should go in?” Let the neighbor go first, find the body, freak out. Keep the neighbor from touching anything, wrestle her outside, make her go back to her house and call the police.
Cora grimaced. Harper wouldn't buy it. Harper would know she was pulling a fast one.
Harper would think
she
planted the damn sudoku.
While Cora was wrestling with her conscience, a black rental car pulled up and stopped in front of the house.
Dennis Pride got out.
Cora's mouth fell open. Jesus Christ. Someone was coming to find the body. But it was the last person in the world she wanted. What would Dennis do? Call the cops? Not likely. Steal the sudoku? Wipe the poker? Even Dennis wasn't that crazy. Unless he committed the crime himself, there was no one he'd care enough to protect. Except Sherry. And Sherry had nothing to do with it. Dennis must know that.
Dennis looked up and down the street.
Cora ducked behind the steering wheel. Had he recognized
her car? She risked a glance. After all, if he'd seen her, the jig was up.
But he hadn't. Dennis was on his way up the walk. He reached the front door, rang the bell. Waited a while, rang again.
Uh oh.
Dennis spotted the door.
Pushed it open, slipped inside.
He was back in a minute, as freaked out as Cora had ever seen him. He glanced around, practically sprinted down the walk, hopped in his car, and sped off.
Well, it was a cinch
he
wasn't going to call the cops.
Back to square one. Dead body. No witness.
So what now? Should she phone in an anonymous tip?
A car came down the street. What was this—Grand Central Station? If it was someone else calling on Mrs. Preston, Cora was going to lose it.
Sure enough, the car stopped right in front of her house.
Michiko got out, sullen as ever in her T-shirt and jeans. Minami followed and, flapping silk sleeves like a giant moth, herded her teenage niece up the walk and in the front door.
The two women were out moments later, Michiko looking slightly less bored. She whipped a cell phone out of her jeans.
Cora didn't wait to see who the girl called. She slipped the Toyota into gear and sped off.
A minute and a half later she screeched to a stop in front of the police station.
Chief Harper was coming out the door.
Cora rolled down the window. “Hey, Chief!”
Harper waved her off. “Not now! There's been another one!”
“Oh?”
Harper hopped in the cruiser and took off. Cora was right behind.
With his lights and siren, Chief Harper made it to Mrs. Preston's house in just slightly more time than it had taken Cora to come from it.
Minami and Michiko were huddled out front.
“Okay, where is it?” Harper barked.
Minami pointed up the path.
“All right. Officers are on the way. You stay here, don't talk to anyone until I get back.” As Cora came bustling up, he added, “Particularly her.”
“What happened?” Cora said.
Minami set her lips, raised her chin.
Her niece's eyes were wide. “There's a dead woman in there!”
“Michiko!”
“Well, there is.”
“Did you not hear the policeman? He said not to talk.”
“Of course,” Cora said. “And that's exactly what your lawyer will tell you.”
“Lawyer!” Minami said.
“Yes, of course. Anyone finding a dead body is a natural suspect. Especially when the police have no one else to arrest. They probably don't. Unless it's a domestic thing. Who is it—the housewife?” Cora grimaced. “I hate to promote the stereotype. The fact is, there's a lot of housewives. It's the first thing you think of. Not the househusband.”
“It's her.”
“Michiko!”
“Wow. That must be something. You ever see a dead body before?”
Minami put herself in front of Michiko. “I will thank you not to question my niece. The policeman has told us not to talk. You are trying to make her disobey. You will get her into trouble.”
Chief Harper came back out. “Well, you were right to call the police. Did you touch anything?”
“No.” Minami pointed a finger accusingly. “This woman has been trying to talk to my niece.”
“Tattletale.”
“After you said not to. My niece is young. Impressionable. It is not right. It is not honorable.”
Cora shrugged. “I never claimed to be as honorable as you. I just have better book sales.”
Harper gave her a glance.
Cora put up her hands. “All right, all right, I'll be good. But what do you mean telling these women not to talk? Is there some sort of conspiracy of silence? It seems unlike your police department.”
Harper ignored her and said to Minami, “Tell me what happened.”
“You wish me to speak in front of her?”
“As Miss Felton has pointed out, the police have nothing to hide. Go ahead.”
Before Minami could answer, a hatchet-faced woman from the house across the street came walking up. “Is something wrong?”
Harper exhaled in exasperation, and looked around for his officers. Neither of them were there yet. “Cora, you want to handle crowd control until Dan and Sam get here?”
Cora put up her hands. “Sorry, Chief, I'm afraid I'm not authorized to do that.”
“Something happened, didn't it?” the woman said. “I almost called you myself.”
“And why is that?” Chief Harper said.
The hatchet-faced woman pointed at Minami. “I looked out my window and saw this woman running away from the house.” She nodded in agreement with herself. “I'm surprised she came back.”
Cora's heart stopped. Of all the bad things in the world that could have happened, this was the worst. Yeah, it was nice to see Minami get her comeuppance. But not like this. Not with an eyewitness. Not with one who saw her fleeing the house.
It wasn't just that Cora felt compassion for the woman. The icy dread that gripped her was not for her Japanese rival. No, it was the realization that if the nosy neighbor had seen that, there were other things she might have seen.
Like Cora. Or Dennis. Or the actual murderer.
Cora wouldn't have minded the actual murderer much. It would have made for a dull and simple crime. Still, clearing the main participants of murder would be sufficient compensation.
Good lord. She sounded like a walking thesaurus. Come on.
Time to slip into gun-moll mode. You're about to be arrested for a crime.
But she wasn't.
The hatchet-faced busybody from across the street, Mrs. Thelma Wilson, was saying, “I went in the kitchen, and I was thinking I should call the police, and then the water boiled, and I was making tea and ramen noodles, so convenient, since they both need boiling water. And then when I had my lunch made, I wanted to eat it while it was hot, and by the time I got back to the window, you were already here.”
Cora exhaled in relief. So, she was off the hook and Minami was on it, and all was right with the world.
Cora immediately switched gears and prepared to align herself with the officers of the law in the swift execution of their solemn duty.
“You're sure this is the woman you saw coming out of the house?” Harper said.
“That's right.”
“Perhaps you'd care to tell us what you were doing the
first
time you called on the woman,” Chief Harper said dryly. “When you came to see her, was she already dead? Or did she open the door and let you in?”
“Aunt Minami! What is he saying? Tell him you didn't do that!”
“Sorry,” Harper said, “but it looks like she did. And you're not supposed to do that. It's called failing to report a crime.”
Minami clamped her lips together.
“Go ahead and tell him,” Cora said.
Minami glared at her.
So did Michiko.
Chief Harper looked at her in surprise.
“Tell him everything you did. Everything you can think of. Don't leave anything out. Tell him every little detail.”
In spite of herself, Minami couldn't help asking, “Why?”
“He now suspects you of a crime. He just said so. And he hasn't informed you of your rights. Nothing you say can be used in evidence against you. It's all inadmissible. He can't get you for anything.”
Harper's mouth fell open. He whirled on Cora, his face red with rage.
A police car screeched to a stop. Sam Brogan got out, his laconic manner in stark contrast to the speed of the vehicle. “What have we got here?” he drawled.
“Crime scene. Check it out.”
Sam popped his gum, wandered off.
Harper turned back to Minami. “You're under arrest on suspicion of being an accessory to murder. You have the right to remain silent …”
Cora turned to Michiko. “Got a cell phone?”
“Why?”
“Call information. Ask for the number of Becky Baldwin.”
Becky Baldwin came down the front steps of the police station.
Cora was waiting to pounce. “I thought you'd never come out.”
“I was talking to my client.”
“Without me.”
“It was a confidential conversation with my client.”
“Exactly. That's why I wanted to be there.”
“I can't let you do that.”
“You've done it before.”
“I've never had a client who was in direct competition with you before.”
“That's just stupid.”
“Tell
her
about it. I suggested you might be of help, but she declined the offer. I pointed out that I'd often hired you as a
private investigator. She claims she doesn't need a private investigator. She's a better investigator than you are, and she can't wait to show you up.”
“Oh, for goodness' sake. Does the woman realize she's charged with murder?”
“I tried to impress it on her. She didn't seem particularly concerned.”
“Of course not. She's stoic. It's a cultural thing. What does she say about the murder?”
“She knows nothing about the murder. Someone's clearly trying to frame her.”
“With the sudoku?”
Becky frowned. “I'm afraid I can't get into the specifics.”
Cora was astounded. “What?”
“I can't discuss my client's case with you.”
“I got you the job!”
“I'm grateful. But my primary duty is to my client.”
“Go ahead and do it. No one's stopping you. I fail to see how filling me in on the situation would make the slightest difference.”
“I can't really tell you that without filling you in on the situation.”
“You want me to pull your hair out?”
“I'd rather you didn't.”
“Becky, it's me, Cora. You think I'll tell you told? I'll go to the grave rather than rat you out. Tell me what she said and I'll tell you if it's true.”
“You'll just get me in trouble.”
“I promise I won't let it slip.”
“That's what you think. When you're on a case, nothing can stop you. You might not
say
anything, but if you started investigating something as a result of something I told you that you
couldn't have learned from any other source, it would be a dead giveaway. She'd know I told you, and there'd be hell to pay.”
“You're afraid I'll get you fired?”
“I'm afraid you'll get me
disbarred
. This is one headstrong woman who wants her own way.” Becky shrugged. “I know, what a bizarre concept.”
“Watch it.”
“Anyway, the woman has chosen to confide in me. It was a confidential communication and bound by attorney-client privilege. If it hadn't been, she wouldn't have made it. But she did and I have to respect it.”
“Good lord, what's the trouble? Is she guilty?”
“Of course not. My clients are never guilty. It's absurd. She came all the way from Japan to kill a woman she never met?”
“I think there's a Western like that.”
“I'm sure there is. Anyway, thanks for the recommendation. I need the work. Sorry I can't tell you anything, but that's the way it goes.” Becky cocked her head. “So, are you free to investigate?”
Cora's mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me?”
“It's a serious charge. I intend to take every precaution.”
“You want me to work for you and you won't tell me why?”
“You know why. To get a woman out of jail.”
“You gonna tell her you're hiring me?”
“It's none of her business.”
“You're gonna pass the bills along to her, aren't you?”
“Well, I'm not going to pay you myself.”
“If she's so snooty about her own detective skills, won't she object?”
Becky smiled. “Not if she doesn't know.”
Cora shook her head. “I'm going to kill you before this is over.”
“I don't hold a grudge. I'll defend you of the charge.”
“That's nice of you. Okay, if I'm going to work for you, there's some things I need to know. Why did your client come back to see the body again?”
“I can't answer that.”
“Did your client plant a sudoku next to the body?”
“I can't answer that.”
“That's as good as an admission.”
“No, it isn't.”
“If she didn't, you could just deny it.”
“I can't and you know it. Then you could cherry-pick. Anything I didn't deny, you'd know was true.”
“You're not denying she planted the sudoku, even though she didn't?”
“I can't answer that.”
“This is a hell of a situation.”
“Isn't it?” Becky cocked her head. “So, you want the job?”

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