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Authors: Parnell Hall

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Chapter
37

Cora found Sherry and Aaron at the
Bakerhaven Gazette
and brought them up to date on the case.

“Becky Baldwin?” Aaron said. “She’s his lawyer?”

“That’s right.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“Apparently she needs the money.”

“Hey, I gotta see about this.”

Aaron grabbed his notebook, headed out the door.

“Thanks a lot,” Sherry said.

“For what?”

“Sending him after Becky Baldwin. We were just having a nice talk.”

“It can’t be that nice. You hang out at your guy’s office, it’s never a good sign. It means the relationship’s in trouble. In my case it was usually some secretary or other. That’s not true here, but even so.”

“What do you want?” Sherry said irritably.

“If you’d like to be happily married, you won’t get there by talking things out at work.”

“You dropped me off,” Sherry pointed out.

“I wanted to get rid of you. I had business with the police.”

“Well, thanks a lot.”

“You needed to talk to Aaron. You talked to Aaron. Fine. Leave it at that. It’s nearly noon. Whaddya say we catch some lunch?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“No, but you need to eat. Otherwise you’ll get in the mood an hour from now, and there’ll be nothing there.”

Sherry and Cora walked down to the Wicker Basket, a popular home-style restaurant just off Main Street. Sherry ordered a salad. Cora had a burger and fries.

“You want bacon on that?” the waitress said.

“Knock me out,” Cora told her.

“So, what’s up?” Sherry asked. “Please tell me you don’t have a puzzle for me to solve.”

“Just the one we found in the safe.”

“You said that was in the paper.”

“Yeah. So?”

“I don’t have to solve it. I wrote it. Let me see it, I’ll tell you what it says.”

“Chief Harper’s got it.”

“He’s not bugging you for it?”

“He’s a little busy at the moment.”

Cora filled Sherry in.

“So, Hideki suspects someone of framing him, but he won’t say who.”

“Right,” Cora says. “Which is transparent as all hell. Everyone knows he means Aoki. Which makes no sense.”

“Why does it make no sense? They clearly hate each other. And Aoki aced Hideki out on your contract.”

“I wouldn’t wanna be accused of false modesty, but I doubt if I’m
worth killing over. And I’m certainly not worth
framing
someone over.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Huge difference. You kill someone in the heat of passion. By passion I don’t mean makin’ whoopee. You get mad and you kill him. Wham, he’s dead. To frame somebody, you plot, and plan, and go out of your way. Particularly to frame somebody in such a complicated fashion. Throw in a crossword puzzle
and
a sudoku? Give me a break! There’s a very good chance the puzzle doesn’t get solved and the frame doesn’t work at all.”

“With the Puzzle Lady on the scene?”

Cora grimaced. “That is, unfortunately, the case. Put me in the mix and some moron thinks I’m capable of figuring out some complicated scheme. Maybe I am, but why go to all that trouble?”

“Payback, for stealing you away? But he
didn’t
steal you away. You were stolen away from
him.”

Cora frowned. “That’s right. Even if it was the other way around, what an unconvincing motive for laying such an elaborate trap. To snare your rival. Take delight in seeing the wheels of justice grind slowly, inexorably—” Cora broke off. “Do justice wheels grind?”

“Never mind. I get the point.”

“The guys may get a kick out of screwing each other in a business deal. But this doesn’t compute. There’s just no passion involved.”

Cora pointed to the door. “On the other hand, there’s one very passionate woman.”

Reiko came in, dressed in her geisha garb. She was mysteriously seductive, even more so than in her slinky sweater.

“There’s a woman who, if she thought her husband was straying, might have the passion to act.”

“You think Hideki’s straying?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know these people. They’re from out of town. I don’t know what’s in their backgrounds that might lead to something like this. All I know is two private investigators have been
hired, and they both wound up dead. That’s not very promising. If I were a private investigator, I’d think twice before taking the case.”

“You
are
a private investigator.”

“Thanks a lot. If someone stabs me with a samurai sword, you’re going to feel very guilty.”

A waitress with menus approached Reiko. In a clear voice she said, “Two please. My husband is joining me.” The waitress showed her to a table by the window.

“So, Hideki’s coming,” Cora observed. “That Becky Baldwin does work fast. One good thing. This murder charge should keep him too busy to worry about being dorked out of a sudoku book.”

“Shh!” Sherry hissed.

“What?”

“Behind you.”

Reiko swooped down on their table in a flurry of silk. It was disconcerting, particularly to someone who hadn’t seen her coming.

“I am sorry,” she said, noting Cora’s expression. “I do not mean to intrude. But I need your help.”

“My help?”

“Yes. I am afraid my husband is in trouble.”

“I’m afraid you’re right. But there’s not much I can do.”

“I want to hire you. To help him. Can you do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you can try?”

“Well …”

She opened her purse. “I will pay you. To help my husband.”

“A private investigator usually works through a lawyer.”

“I do not want a lawyer. I want you to work for me to prove my husband innocent of this horrible crime.”

“It’s somewhat unusual.”

“I have money.”

“Money always helps.”

Reiko took out her wallet, counted out ten one-hundred-dollar bills. “Can you help me?”

Cora riffled through the bills, folded them up in her hand. “Yes, I can.”

She heaved a sigh. “Oh. Thank you. Thank you. I am so relieved. I must go to my table now. Before he gets here.”

“You don’t want him to know you hired me?”

“It would not be honorable. He is very proud. I can trust you, yes?”

Cora frowned. “This is most unusual.”

“Oh! Here he comes!”

. Reiko scurried back to her table.

And in walked Aoki.

Chapter
38

“It’s my worst nightmare!” Cora wailed.

“Calm down.”

“Not only did I get the wrong Asian man, but, by mixing them up, I got the one most likely to have committed the murder.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sherry told her.

“That’s no consolation. Nothing is my fault, but everything is wrong. Since the very beginning, every time I turn around I get the wrong Japanese man. It’s not like I’ve mistaken them for each other. They don’t
look
like each other. But I still keep mixing them up.”

“You could have said no.”

“I’d already said yes. What was I gonna do, say, ‘Sorry, I thought you were talking about your
other
husband’?”

“That would have been a little awkward. Particularly since he wasn’t supposed to know about it.”

“No kidding. Can you think of any explanation I could have made that would not have been utterly humiliating?”

“No, I’ll give you that.”

“And, I got no real reason to turn down the job except for the fact the guy’s probably guilty.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. Everything points to it. The minute you realize
Aoki
is Geisha Girl’s husband, it all falls into place. Hideki’s messing around with his wife. The guy sets him up for revenge. Which takes care of my biggest problem. A passionless murder. You throw sex into the situation, the whole thing explodes.”

“For the sake of argument, say you’re right. It still has to make sense. Where did the private eye come in?”

“Aoki hires him. To keep tabs on his wife. The guy tells him his wife is indeed stepping out with his rival. Bad news for the private eye. Aoki never heard the phrase
don’t shoot the messenger.
In a fit of rage, he stabs him with a samurai sword. He then proceeds to make it look like Hideki did.”

“So he calmly sits down and writes out a sudoku based on Hideki’s Social Security number. Then he constructs a crossword puzzle to tell you where to look for it. That seems pretty coolheaded for someone who’s just committed murder. Not to mention ambitious.”

“Don’t be silly,” Cora said. “The puzzles were created in advance. He was setting Hideki up, he just didn’t know for what. Murder was the icing on the cake.”

“And what about the first private eye?”

“What about him?”

“Where does he come in?”

“Same deal.”

“Hired to watch Aoki’s wife?”

“Why not?”

“And he didn’t like the report, so he killed him and hired another one?” Sherry said ironically.

Cora grimaced. “I admit that does sound bad.”

“So spell it out for me so it doesn’t.”

“I haven’t worked all the kinks out.”

“No kidding.”

“But I don’t have to buy the premise.”

“What premise?”

“That Aoki hired both private eyes.”

Sherry stared at her aunt. “Oh, you think that’s better? That two separate people hired two separate eyes, both of whom wind up dead in Bakerhaven, Connecticut?”

“Just because something is totally illogical doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. What’s more, it
did
happen. We’re not in the position of adopting a smug, superior attitude and saying, ‘Hey, that can’t be true.’”

“I wasn’t aware of being smug and superior.”

“You’re shooting down all my theories, and while your points are certainly valid, two men are still dead. So, how did they get that way?”

“I have no idea.”

“I have no idea, either. Unlike you, I find myself in the position of being blamed for it.”

“Unlike you, I wasn’t hired to find out.”

Cora shook her head. “You’re good. Just when I think I’m winning the argument, you manage to trip me up.”

“I’m not sure winning the argument is really the point.”

“Like that,” Cora said. “You’re absolutely right. The point is figuring out what happened. Who the killer is, I don’t know. But every idea I throw out you skewer. And rightfully so. They’re stupid. It makes no sense if Aoki hired both private eyes. It makes no sense if two other people hired them. Now I gotta shut that out and say, if that’s the case, illogical as it seems, how did it happen?”

“Isn’t there something about if you eliminate the impossible, what’s left, no matter how improbable, must be true?”

“Yeah. And it doesn’t help. But that’s where we are.”

“What about the sword?”

“The murder weapon?”

“Uh-huh. If your theory is right, someone had to steal it from
Dennis’s car. Now how does that make sense? Along with these theories you’re laying out for private eye dispatching.”

“There are two ways it works. One, the murder weapon is opportunistic. Aoki, passing Dennis’s car, sees the sword lying in the backseat, and can’t resist stealing the sucker. Two, Dennis, confronted with the private eye, can’t resist sticking the sword in his chest and inventing the story.”

“Whoa,” Sherry said. “No fair.”

“You think Dennis couldn’t do such a thing? Even drunk as a skunk?”

“I thought you established the sword was stolen from his car
before
the murder. I thought you found the broken window, confronted him with the receipt.”

“I did.”

“So?”

“So,” Cora said, “Dennis can reason as well as anyone else. If he’s stolen a sword to commit a murder, it would certainly behoove him to establish the murder weapon was out of his possession before the murder took place.”

“So he smashes his window and gets it repaired just so he can claim the sword was stolen?”

“Why not?”

“That would imply premeditation.”

“You don’t think Dennis capable of premeditation?”

“A premeditated murder?”

“He stole the sword. Even he doesn’t deny that. If he stole the sword, for whatever reason, he could pretend to have it stolen from him for the
same
reason. Or simply because he panicked when he realized he was in possession of the sword.”

“That’s assuming he’s innocent. You were saying if he was guilty.”

“Same thing. He finds he’s stolen a sword. He pretends the sword’s been stolen from him. It isn’t. And, when confronted with a threat, he reacts.”

“I thought you searched his car and the sword was gone.”

“From his car, yes. He could have stashed it somewhere else.”

“That’s far-fetched.”

Cora raised her finger. “Uh-uh. We’re not allowing the far-fetched objection.
All
of this is far-fetched. What we’re looking for is
possible.
He panicked about stealing the sword, smashed the window, had it repaired, ditched the sword somewhere so he could claim it was stolen. Where he ditched it is another matter. Knowing Dennis, I wouldn’t be surprised if he put it in our silverware drawer.”

“Cora!”

“You’re right, he didn’t. It’s too big. And I seriously don’t think he did anything. Except stealing the sword, which we know. The problem is, everything points to the fact Aoki did it. And he’s my client. And he’s not Becky Baldwin’s client. She got the
right
Japanese publisher. By coincidence, you got the wrong one, too, so I got the one with our book contract. But that will be small consolation when they cart him off to jail. I doubt if he can publish it from there.”

There came the sound of tires on gravel.

“Ah. Aaron must have finished his story. Now, you kids play nice. I’m tired of being cast in the role of the referee.”

“Well, if you stop feeding him news stories …”

“Oh, now the killings are my fault. It’s bad enough I haven’t solved them, you’re going to blame me for the fact they happened.”

There came a knock on the door.

“It’s not Aaron. You expecting anyone?”

Sherry shook her head.

Cora opened the front door.

Dennis Pride stood on the stoop. Compared to his recent court appearance, he was in pretty good shape, with his hair combed back and his tie tied.

That cut no ice with Cora. “You can’t be here, Dennis. Go away, or I’ll call the cops.”

“I’m not here to see Sherry. I’m here to see you. You wanna come outside? We can maintain the legal limit.”

“Fine.”

Cora stepped outside, closed the door, led Dennis down the path. “I’m walking you back to your car. When we get there, you’re getting in it and driving away. Anything you want to say to me, you better say between now and then.”

“The night of the murder. It’s coming back to me now. I’m remembering things.”

“You remember the murder.”

“Of course not. But I remember the night. I remember talking to you in the bar.”

“You remember me showing you the receipt?”

“Yeah.”

“Was that a surprise?”

“Sure. I don’t know how you got in my car.”

“You left it unlocked.”

“Oh.” Dennis put up his hands. “Look. I made a statement, the statement was true. I had the sword. It got stolen. I got the window repaired. That’s all I have to say on the matter, and all Becky wants me to say. I’m talking about later.”

“What about later?”

“When I left the bar. I didn’t remember anything before. Now I do.”

“What’s that?”

“The Japanese guy. Who was drinking with Sherry. What’s he all about?”

“He’s a publisher. Wants to do a book of my sudoku.”

“But you can’t do them.”

“No, actually I can. Sherry’s good at words. I’m good at numbers.”

The front door opened and Sherry came out.

“What are you talking about?”

“Go back in the house,” Cora said.

“I want to know what’s going on.”

“What’s going on is the police can’t enforce a restraining order
against this bozo if you’re the one breaking it. Go back in the house, I’ll get rid of him as soon as I can.”

“Oh, hell,” Sherry said. “Just get him out of here! Make him go!”

“He’s telling me about the murder. He’ll go in a minute.”

Aaron Grant’s car rumbled up the driveway.

“See!” Sherry said. “Now look what you’ve done!”

Aaron slammed his car to a stop, hopped out, bore down on Dennis.

“He’s here to see me,” Cora said. “Take Sherry out of range and I’ll get rid of him.”

Aaron flashed her an exasperated look, headed for the house. Sherry went in, closed the door. Aaron followed moments later.

“Okay,” Cora said. “You got what you wanted. Disrupted their lives, caused another fight. Now, you want to tell me something, the clock is ticking. What you got?”

“I remember leaving the Country Kitchen. It’s kind of foggy, but I remember driving away.”

“Yeah? So what happened?”

“Nothing. Got lost and passed out.”

“I know that. I thought you said you remembered something.”

“I don’t really remember. It’s just a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of feeling?”

“Like I was being followed.”