Read Arsenic and Old Puzzles Online
Authors: Parnell Hall
Arsenic and Old Puzzles
Contents
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For Cary Grant,
a wonderful Mortimer
I would like to thank Joseph Kesselring, who wrote the stage play, Julius J. and Philip G. Epstein, who wrote the screenplay, Frank Capra, who directed the movie, and Cary Grant and the rest of the marvelous cast of
Arsenic and Old Lace,
for inspiring me to write this book. If you have never seen this merry band of poisoners, rent the DVD at once.
I would also like to thank my accomplices,
New York Times
crossword editor Will Shortz, for creating the sudoku, noted constructor Fred Piscop, for creating the crossword puzzles, and American Crossword Puzzle Tournament champion Ellen Ripstein, for editing them.
“So when’s she
going to walk?” Cora said.
Sherry Carter shot an amused glance at Aaron Grant. Jennifer Carter Grant was crawling back and forth from Mommy to Daddy on a beach blanket on the front lawn. Cora Felton was sitting on a lawn chair. Not sitting on the ground was one of the privileges accorded a great-aunt, and Cora was taking full advantage.
“She’s nine months old,” Sherry said.
“What’s your point?”
“Babies walk around a year,” Aaron said.
“A whole year? That must tire them out.” Cora cocked her head. “I don’t see why she couldn’t start walking. I mean, look at the size of her. You’d never know she was premature.”
“That’s not the type of thing she needs to grow up hearing all the time,” Sherry said.
“You’re going to withhold it from her?” Cora said. “My God, the kid will grow up with a complex. She’ll have a therapist before she’s five.”
“Did you ever have a therapist?” Sherry said.
“That’s a rather personal question. Particularly in front of a young man. Just because he married into the family doesn’t mean he gets to share our household secrets.”
“Secrets?” Aaron said. “You mean you did have a therapist?”
“You tell me,” Cora said. “Do you think I had a therapist?”
Aaron’s mouth fell open. That was a loaded question. Any answer would be wrong.
“Stop teasing Aaron,” Sherry said. “Let the poor guy have some Daddy time.”
“Oh, you want the wicked stepaunt to go away?”
“You’re not a stepaunt. You’re a great-aunt.”
“The best,” Cora said. “Seriously, what are you going to tell the kid when she asks what that scar on your stomach is?”
“You can’t even see it,” Aaron said. “The doctor was right. It’s a bikini cut, and you can’t even tell.”
Sherry wasn’t wearing a bikini, she was wearing shorts and a halter top, but the result was the same. The horizontal scar was below the panty line.
Sherry smiled. “Are you torturing me because you’re bored? Can’t stand it when things are quiet?”
Aaron grinned. “I think that’s it. She’s an action junkie. Hasn’t had a murder in months, and she’s climbing the walls.”
“I am not,” Cora said. “If I never see another murder case, it will be too damn soon.”
Jennifer reached the edge of the blanket and let out an excited whoop. Daddy headed her off.
“Killjoy,” Cora said.
“There’s germs in the grass.”
Cora mentioned another place germs might hang out.
“Cora!” Sherry said. “You are
not
going to talk that way around the baby.”
“What, she’s going to be offended? She doesn’t look offended. Hey, Jennifer. Are you offended with Auntie?”
Jennifer didn’t answer.
“When’s she going to talk, anyway?”
“She’s nine months old,” Sherry repeated.
“Well, not full sentences, but a good ‘Cora,’ would be nice.”
Aaron picked Jennifer up, put her back in the middle of the blanket. “I think she’s wet.”
Sherry dug in the diaper bag. “Care to change the baby, Auntie Cora?”
“Certainly not. I’m the aunt, not the nanny. My job is to look proud and brag at PTA meetings.”
“Oh, my God,” Sherry said. “It’s not enough you want her walking. You’ve already got her in school.”
“Well, you have to plan ahead,” Cora said. “If you’re not careful, next thing you know she’s bringing home some irresponsible bum.”
Sherry shook her head. “I’m changing her diaper and you’ve got her dating already.”
“And as for you, Mommy, I thought having a kid wasn’t going to change anything?”
“It hasn’t.”
“Oh, no? I’ve had to send in the last five Puzzle Lady columns myself. And I’m no good at it. I keep screwing up. An editor called and asked what’s wrong. I told her I had to send the stuff myself because my secretary had a baby.”
“You’re lucky I don’t make you write them,” Sherry said.
Cora grimaced. While she was the famous Puzzle Lady, whose smiling face graced the nationally syndicated crossword column, in point of fact Cora couldn’t solve a crossword puzzle if you gave her the answers. Sherry Carter actually constructed the puzzles. Cora Felton merely lent her name to the project.
Aaron’s cell phone rang. He flipped it open. “Hello?… Yes, she’s right here.”
Sherry reached for the phone.
Aaron shook his head. “No, her.” He held it out to Cora.
Cora took the phone. “Hello?”
“Cora? Chief Harper.”
“Oh, hi, Chief. What’s up?”
“I’m out at the Guildford sisters’ bed-and-breakfast. Do you know it?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Fifty-one Elmwood Circle. About a half mile north of town.”
“What about it?”
“Wanna take a ride out there?”
“How come?”
“Someone died.”
Elmwood Circle was
actually a square block, or perhaps just one side of the block. Cora wasn’t about to drive around to find out. Not with “fifty-one” so clearly marked on the mailbox. And Chief Harper out in front, leaning on his car.
“Okay, Chief, what have you got?”
“Dead tourist. Checked in for the weekend, keeled over during afternoon tea. The Guilford sisters aren’t much for breakfast, but they do set an excellent tea.”
“This is a natural death?”
“Oh, absolutely. According to Edith he was seventy-six. When a person gets to be that age—” Chief Harper broke off. “Not that seventy-six is that old—” He broke off again. Flushed furiously. “Not to imply…”
“Thanks for clearing that up, Chief,” Cora said dryly. “I was afraid you thought I was seventy-six.” When Harper floundered helplessly, she changed the subject to let him off the hook. “So, what do you want with me?”
“There’s a puzzle on the body.”
“Of course there is,” Cora said. “There’s always a puzzle on the body. I’d be shocked if there wasn’t. What kind of puzzle is it?”
“A number puzzle.”
“Sudoku or KenKen?”
“Which is which?”
“Come on, Chief. You’ve had both kinds. You must not be taking this seriously if you haven’t even bothered to sort it out.”
“I called you, didn’t I?”
“Of course you did. So no one could ask you why you didn’t.”
Chief Harper took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, handed it to her.
“Thanks a lot,” Cora said.
Two elderly women came bustling in from the kitchen. They wore lacy blouses and wool skirts, looked more suited for the English countryside than a New England town. Cora had seen them around town, but wasn’t acquainted. She couldn’t even tell which was which.
“Oh,” the plumper of the two said. “It’s the Puzzle Lady. The chief said he was calling you, but I didn’t think you’d come. I mean, it’s not like there was a crime.”
“Goodness, no,” the thinner sister said. “What a shock. One minute he’s sitting at our table, the next minute he’s lying at our feet.”
“He spilled on our carpet,” the plumper sister said indignantly. “I’m sorry he’s dead, but really.”
“And he’s still there,” the thinner sister said.
“I’m sorry,” Harper said. “Dr. Nathan is hung up in surgery, and the EMS unit is on the other side of town.”
“There’s only one?” Cora said, incredulously.
“It’s Sunday,” Chief Harper said, defensively.
“So the gentleman is still here?”
“In the middle of our parlor floor!”
“Could I see?”
The dead tourist was slumped over, half on, half off the table. The wineglass lay on its side in front of him. He had apparently knocked it over when he fell.
So. The sisters’ famous afternoon tea featured wine. Cora wondered if that was why it was so popular.
“Is this how you found him, Chief?”
“That’s right.”
“No one moved him?”
“The sisters actually tried to sit him up, but he kept slumping over. That’s when they called for help.”
“But the doctor was busy and the ambulance was tied up?”
The chief gave her a look. “You going to keep harping on that? I know you got a newspaper reporter in the family, but it’s not the type of thing I’d like to read in the press.”
“Well, I’m not going to advertise the fact, but if asked, I’m not going to lie.”