Arsenic and Old Puzzles (4 page)

25  Porter’s regretful Miss

26  Breaks one’s back

27  Month with a prank holiday

28  Prince Andrew, since 1986

30  Bloodletter’s need, once

31  One taking a cut

32  Repaired quickly, perhaps

37  Spillane’s “__ Jury”

38  Becomes extinct

41  Mischief makers

43  Sports “zebra”

45  Oscar statuette, mostly

46  Mounted the soapbox

47  Polite chap

51  Cultural values

52  Hemingway nickname

53  Word for Yorick

55  Low-lying area

56  Early Jesse Jackson ‘do

57  Bumped off

58  Fictional alter ego

60  Nautical pronoun

61 “Mangia!”

Chapter

7

“If this is
someone’s idea of a joke, I don’t find it very funny.” Cora bristled with indignation, glared at Arlene.

“Hey, hey,” Alan said. He moved himself between the two women.

“It’s no joke,” Arlene said indignantly. “I found it on the doorstep. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it.”

“That’s because no one’s going to ask you what it means,” Cora said.

“Of course not. I don’t do crossword puzzles. Not that I couldn’t. I just never have. But I suppose I could. I’m a moderately intelligent woman.”

“Stop it,” Alan said. He had a huge smile on his face. “You’re always running yourself down. The point is, if it’s a puzzle, it must be for her.”

“There’s no must about it,” Cora said. “Why, just because it’s my job? Becky’s a lawyer. If it were a subpoena, would you say it must be for her?”

“It’s a little different,” Harper said, “since there’s already a sudoku.”

“There’s a sudoku?” Charlotte said.

That set off a whole flurry of conversation. Eventually Chief Harper got it quieted down and explained the situation.

“There you are,” Arlene said. “There’s a sudoku and a crossword puzzle. Clearly you’re supposed to solve them and tell us what they mean.”

Cora might have been able to tell what the crossword puzzle meant, but she couldn’t begin to solve it. She stuck her chin in the air and said, “Phooey. I’m certainly not solving any crossword puzzles. I’m sitting here having my tea.” She turned to Chief Harper. “If you want help with the puzzle, you bring in Harvey Beerbaum.”

“Why in the world would you want me to do that?”

Cora took a breath, stalling. Inspiration seized her. She pointed at Arlene. “For just the reason she said. I’m the Puzzle Lady, so it must be for me. And that’s how people figure. It’s time to change their way of thinking. If you leave a crossword puzzle, it gets taken to me? No. If you leave a crossword puzzle, it gets taken to Harvey Beerbaum. If you make that clear, maybe people will stop sending me cryptic messages in crosswords.”

Cora handed the puzzle to the chief. “Take it to Harvey. I don’t want to see it. As a matter of fact, I think I’m through with this case. Ladies, thank you for the tea. Alan, it was so nice to meet you. Arlene.” Cora nodded without enthusiasm. “Becky, I’m sure you want to stick around and make sure everything’s kosher. Can you catch a ride?”

“You’re really going?”

“As fast as my legs can carry me.”

With that she was out the door.

Chapter

8

Harvey Beerbaum—plump, precise,
and fastidious—lived in the closest thing Bakerhaven had to a gingerbread house. A glorified A-frame, neatly decorated with crossword-puzzle memorabilia, from trophies to puzzles to photos to name tags from the national tournament. As bad as Cora was at solving crossword puzzles, Harvey was good. Chief Harper had employed him in the past when Cora had begged off.

Harvey paused in the middle of solving the puzzle to ask, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some tea?”

Chief Harper took a breath. Everyone was giving him tea today. “The puzzle, Harvey, if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly.”

Harvey’s pencil flew over the puzzle. A minute and a half later he handed it back to the chief.

“You’re done?”

“I haven’t checked my work. In a tournament, I’d have gone over it, as long as it made no difference in the time. You get the same score for five minutes thirteen seconds left as you do for five minutes and four. At four fifty-nine, you lose points. See?”

Chief Harper didn’t see at all, but he didn’t care. “The puzzle, Harvey.”

“Ah, you want the theme answer,” he said, referring to the long answer imbedded in the puzzle. “I’m not sure it’s going to help you much. Do you think it has something to do with the murder?”

“It’s very unlikely.”

“And yet you bring it to me.”

“Cora suggested I bring it to you.”

“Yes, she would.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Harvey kicked himself for almost blowing it. He knew Cora couldn’t solve crossword puzzles, he just didn’t know she couldn’t construct them, either. “Cora always sics you on me when she thinks it doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s not true. You’ve solved puzzles for me that were very important.”

“You didn’t tell me what they meant.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Chief Harper hadn’t
known
what they meant. Cora had figured out what they meant after Harvey had failed to do so.

“The problem with puzzles is they don’t always mean anything,” Harper said.

“Who’s this fellow who died?”

“No one seems to know.”

“That’s very sad.”

“Yes, it is,” Harper said.

It was also very strange. Usually someone knew something about someone. This man came to town without so much as making a ripple, and died without leaving a trace. He hadn’t had a car. It wasn’t like he could have gotten into town. What had he been doing?

Harper could interview the neighbors. Unfortunately the nearest neighbor was Arlene, whom he’d already interviewed. It occurred to the chief he’d better talk to Cora.

Chapter

9

Cora was relaxing
in the living room. Ever since Jennifer was born, Sherry, Aaron, and the baby were living upstairs in the new addition. There was a bedroom for Cora, she just hadn’t moved into it. Originally, she had been graciously given the master suite, but when the baby was premature, Cora had moved Sherry and Aaron into it so they could have the baby with them. Now that Jennifer was old enough to be in her own room, Cora saw no reason to displace them. Cora was perfectly happy in the old house, which was peaceful and quiet most of the day, except when Sherry, who preferred the old kitchen, was cooking, or when they were all eating together in front of the TV. Otherwise the house was quiet, especially since she had persuaded Sherry to turn the extra bedroom in the new addition into an office and do all her crossword puzzle work upstairs. Except for a crying baby, there was nothing Cora was happier to be rid of. She just had to get her own computer so she could go online after Sherry moved hers upstairs. Cora never worked on the computer, but she had become addicted to spending time on eBay, and YouTube, and chat rooms, and sites with soap-opera plot summaries and the like. One thing about Cora’s new computer, of which she was rather proud, was that it served no practical purpose whatsoever.

Cora was lounging on the couch with her feet up on the coffee table and a cigarette dangling from her lip, which she could get away with once dinner was over and the kids had retreated to the new addition.

The doorbell rang.

That was annoying. The doorbell shouldn’t be ringing. Cora hoped it wasn’t Sherry’s ex-husband. Or any of hers, for that matter.

It was Chief Harper. He didn’t look happy.

“Hi, Chief. What’s up?”

“You got any coffee left from dinner?”

“What makes you think we have coffee with dinner?’

“Your niece is a good cook, doesn’t skimp on the accessories.”

“I think there is. It’s been sitting around, though.”

“It doesn’t matter. I need a jolt.”

Harper followed Cora into the kitchen.

There was a half inch of coffee in the bottom of the Pyrex pot.

“Stone cold,” Cora said. “I could add milk, zap it in the microwave.”

“That would be fine.”

Cora poured a cup, put it in the microwave for forty-five seconds.

“Won’t that overheat it?” Harper said.

“I never know. You didn’t come for the coffee. What brings you here?”

“Barney Nathan called. Guy died of poison.”

“I thought you figured that.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t cyanide. At least, not just cyanide. There were other poisons involved.”

“Which ones?”

“We sent the stomach contents out to Danbury. They’re already working on the wine.”

“The wine from the glass?”

“Yeah. And the carafe.”

“If there was poison in the carafe, wouldn’t the sisters be dead?”

“They would be if they drank it. They claim they didn’t. Even if there isn’t, there’s enough in the hollow of the overturned glass for them to get a good toxicology report.”

“When will you get that?”

“By tomorrow.”

“Why are you here now?’

“Harvey solved the puzzle. I thought you’d like to see.”

“Chief, I can’t begin to tell you how uninterested I am in that puzzle. I’ll give you fifty to one it’s got nothing to do with the murder.”

He nodded. “That was Harvey’s opinion, too.”

“Fifty to one?”

Harper smiled. “I don’t believe he gave actual odds. He did express his skepticism.”

“What did he think the puzzle meant?”

“He had no idea.”

“And you thought I would. That’s flattering, Chief.”

“Yeah, right. I got a mysterious, unidentified dead man who’s got no reason to be dead. Which leaves me with nothing to investigate except the stupid crossword puzzle.”

“Stupid?”

“That’s a figure of speech. There’s nothing stupid about it as far as I can tell. Harvey says it’s a perfectly ordinary puzzle.”

“I’m sure it is. Any reference to numbers? Or rows, or columns, or corners? Or addition, or subtraction, or multiplication, or division? Anything at all that might tie words and numbers together?”

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.”

“I can’t, Chief. Even without looking at it I know I can’t.”

“Did you solve the sudoku?”

“Of course I solved the sudoku.” Cora picked up her purse from the kitchen table, pulled out a sheet of paper, passed it over.

“There you are, Chief. What do you think it means?”

“I have no idea.”

“Neither do I,” Cora said. “Now, I’m going to look at your crossword puzzle for you, and then I’m going to tell you exactly the same thing. And then you’re going to go away and wait for your toxicology report and hope it sheds a little more light on this than a stupid puzzle.”

Cora took the puzzle from Chief Harper, looked it over.

“Hmm. Not even an idiotic poem. Just four vaguely related phrases. Walk the dog. Bell the cat. Slop the hog. Swat the fly. If you really want a stretch, the fly’s going to wind up dead, and so did Tom.”

“Tom wasn’t swatted, he was poisoned.”

“I don’t think you poison a fly. Unless you spray DDT or something, and hasn’t that been banned? I don’t really see a connection between a fly and a dead boarder. Why would a killer leave the puzzle?”

“Aha,” Harper said. He pointed his finger at her. “See? You tell me you can’t find a connection. You tell me it means nothing. But what do you really think?
Why did the killer leave it?
You accepted that as a given. The killer left it. You merely wonder why.”

“I was speaking casually.”

“Of course you were. Without any torturous logic or any value judgments. And speaking casually, what do you say? The killer left the puzzle.”

Cora put up her hand. “Okay, Chief, I give up. Your infallible logic has backed me into a corner and forced me into an admission. I infer the killer left the puzzle. Why? Because I’m an ignorant fool without the brain power to think anything else. The killer left the puzzle, but I haven’t a clue why or what it could possibly mean. So go home, get some sleep, and wait for the toxicology report, because that’s going to tell you something and this isn’t.”