Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series Box Set

by Tanya R. Taylor

  Suddenly, I saw the gavel. A simple, wooden gavel floating around in midair in front of them. Then with rapid speed, it sank into the carpeted floor and Sir Clement nodded.

  Just as I’d thought! It was confirmation that I was on the right track.

  “Thank you, Sir Clem. You must’ve known this was my next move. You can’t get any credit for this though. I can read; I saw what was on those deeds.” I just had to let him know so that when this whole thing unfolded, he couldn’t possibly in good conscience take the credit for it. Then a thought struck me: Why did that gavel float around in front of the others too? Were they in any way connected to Sir Clement’s murder case? I didn’t think so, but time will surely tell.

  Falling back to sleep proved to be a real challenge after they’d all disappeared and probably went for a late night snack. They obviously didn’t think anything of waking an old, fragile lady from her sleep, filling her head with serious work, then taking off like nothing ever happened.

  My alarm clock was blinking at 2:55. An hour passed and I was still awake; then I remembered seeing 4:22 before sleep eventually caught up to me again.

  I was exhausted when I woke up that morning. Nilla was eager, as usual, for her morning walk and after I grabbed a quick cup of coffee, we headed out.

  Lo and behold, guess who we saw? Mrs. Bubble herself—Betty Graham, Jeff’s wife. She was wearing all white—a fitted blouse with two tiny straps tied at each end of the sleeve, a pair of skimpy shorts and white sneakers, and her proudly purchased boobs protruded far beyond what I thought was normal.

  “Hi, Lucille!” she said.

  “Is that you, Betty?”

  She giggled like a little girl. “Yes, it’s me, pretty lady.”

  Nilla and the pooches were already getting into it.

  “Now, now, Rubin and Reginald. Let’s be courteous to each other, okay?” she spoke to them so tenderly.

  Rubin and Reginald—that’s what she called her dogs. Who calls their dogs Rubin or Reginald? Unbelievable! I shuddered every time I heard her call them by those names.

  Nilla wasn’t letting up. I prevented her from getting at them as Betty held her pooches off. She seemed to be struggling for a moment, but as usual, kept them at bay. They were little and just about as feisty as Nilla was.

  “Why don’t you all be friends?” I said to them, but of course, they weren’t listening to me.

  Betty giggled again.

  “I saw Jeff the other day,” I said. “Pardon me—not saw. We spoke.” There I went almost supposedly putting those disability checks at risk again.

  “Yes, he mentioned it. He and Camille are always so busy back and forth doing company business,” she replied.

  “Yeah, I imagine they do a lot of company business,” I agreed, but not in the same way miss airhead meant it. If living in that bubble of hers was keeping her happy and halfway sane, more power to her. I wasn’t about to run my mouth about something so delicate. Again...to each his own. Donnie put up with me and I’ll never know who might have told him all along he was a fool, so who am I to judge anyone else’s decision to be with or stay with whomever they chose? I think everyone should have enough of their own problems to keep them busy instead of meddling in other people’s affairs.

  “I’d better get these preciouses off this sidewalk before they break away from their leashes.” Betty smiled.

  “Yeah, I think you should. Good seeing you again. I mean... speaking with you.”

  She grinned yet again and proceeded down the sidewalk.

  It was a sunny morning; I could feel the warmth on my skin. A beautiful day indeed. Unfortunately, after washing up and having a nice breakfast, I’d have to spend such a day doing what I was about to do. I didn’t intend to tell a soul beforehand.

  11

  _________________

  It was the first time in my life I remembered being truly nervous about anything I’d embarked upon. I couldn’t tell Merlene what my plan was because I didn’t want her there messing everything up with her fiery tongue. She hated almost everything ‘law enforcement’ now, including the judicial system.

  I sat in the office of the judge that had apparently outlived everyone in the matter that was of interest to me. He was a young man in the legal system when he signed as the presiding judge over the land Sir Clement had bought from Thurgood Solomon with his own hard-earned money. He was in private practice then and making a name for himself. Sir Clement obviously thought highly enough of him or I’m sure he would’ve opted for someone else more qualified to handle his affairs. Goodness knows he had more money than he could ever spend. I remembered Judge Tobias Simon from when he used to come into the bank I’d worked for before I moved on to my private banking career. He’d regularly deposit those hefty checks from his law firm while others let their messengers handle the deposits. But I guess this guy didn’t trust anyone enough with his money.

  I didn’t have an appointment and hadn’t planned on wasting my time waiting for his calendar to be freed up. So, I lied and told his secretary I was his grandma and the naive young lady obviously believed me. I wondered for a moment if there was any crime in lying to the judge’s secretary in order to see him, but I quickly erased the thought from my mind. I was too old to care.

  “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?” the nice young lady asked me as I sat there in the plush office of the man I wanted—no—needed to see.

  “No, thank you, dear. I’ve had my steamy cup of caffeine already for the morning,” I answered.

  She left the room with a smile.

  I’d caught a cab there after Theodore skidded out for work. He’d made us a nice breakfast each morning since Anthony had left for vacation. Theodore tried his best, I’m sure, but Anthony belonged in the kitchen and Theodore knew that. It was Anthony’s domain when he wasn’t working hard at that computer company. I already had it on my agenda to go down there and give his boss a nice, friendly visit if they didn’t promote Anthony on that job soon. I’d seen the man bring his work home many evenings just trying to meet a crazy deadline. It’s a wonder he hadn’t started pulling out his hair for the type of workload they’d been putting on him. Anthony was Mister Nice Guy and rarely spoke up for himself, but he was living in the house of Lucille Velma Abigail Pfiffer and I don’t take crap and look the other way for long.

  Judge Simon finally entered the room. Considering the length of time he had me waiting, I figured I must’ve interrupted his toilet break. He had aged quite a bit, but was still a catch. He must have been in his sixties, which means he would’ve been in his twenties when Sir Clement did business with him. Word was he’d graduated top of his class and attained the highest degree available in his profession at such a young age. Later, as he conducted his private practice, he was called for duties on the bench which wasn’t unusual during those days when more judges were in demand. I can imagine the savings he racked up over time working both for himself and the government.

  Tobias had a tan he seemed to have been born with. Most of the women I knew back then—married or not—were hopelessly in love with him. Not only was the guy smart; he was the looker of lookers.

  He walked around to his desk, sat down and calmly faced me. He crossed his legs and leaned back in the black, leather chair.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” He asked as though he was trying to be as patient as possible.

  “Didn’t your secretary tell you?” I replied. “I’m your grandma.”

  “My grandmother’s dead. Furthermore, you can’t be much older than I am. Again, I ask you...who are you and what do you want?”

  I crossed my legs as well and sat back just the same. “Just a conversation, Judge.” I was feeling even more nervous than before, but was hell-bent on not showing it.

  “A conversation?” he grimaced. “What about?”

  “I’m sure you remember the name Sir Clement Tucker, don’t you?” I failed to look directly at him, so he wouldn’t get the idea that I could, in fac
t, see him.

  “I do.”

  “I’m here on his behalf,” I said.

  “I don’t know if you know, Miss, but Clement Tucker is dead.”

  “Sir,” I emphasized.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Sir Clement Tucker. He earned that Sir in front of his name just like you earned that Judge, so let’s be honorable, shall we?”

  “You have a point. I stand corrected.” He rested his hands on his lap and interlaced his fingers. I could sense he didn’t appreciate what I’d said, but elected to be diplomatic anyway. “I didn’t get your name,” he said.

  My hand flew to my chest. “Oh, pardon my manners.” I grinned. “The name’s Lucille Velma Abigail Pfiffer. I was born and raised here in Chadsworth just as you were. I live across the way in Harriet’s Cove.”

  “Harriet’s Cove.”

  “Yes. It happens to be one of Sir Clement’s subdivisions. I’d dare say—his pride and joy.”

  “Did you know Sir Clement well?” he asked.

  I appreciated his newly-found interest. At first, I was wondering if I was going to get anywhere with him, as rigid as he came across.

  “Oh, yes—very well. We’ve been able to establish quite a friendship over the years.”

  “You speak in the present tense.”

  “I know.” I smiled. If only he knew how present Sir Clement truly was.

  Tobias leaned forward. “Miss Pfiffer...”

  “Mrs,” I corrected him.

  “Mrs. Pfiffer, as you can imagine, I am a very busy man. If you don’t explain the reason for your visit right away, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “Fair enough,” I replied, leaning forward as well. “Sir Clement was your client, wasn’t he?”

  “For a time. Why do you ask? But wait... I think you ought to know that I am only indulging you to an extent here. I am by no means obligated to discuss with you any business concerning any of my clients, past or present.”

  “I understand, Judge. This will be quick and as unintrusive as I can make it.”

  “Whatever that means,” he said.

  I took that as an insult, but had more important things on my mind than getting offended over his useless sarcasm.

  I placed a manila folder on his desk. “Please have a look,” I said.

  He looked at me suspiciously and probably wondered if this blind lady had a bomb or something hidden in there with his name on it.

  He grabbed the envelope and pulled out the files containing three title deeds. Inwardly, I watched as he quickly perused them.

  “What are these?” he asked.

  “You don’t know? You’re a judge and you don’t know what title deeds look like?”

  “I mean—what are they for? Of course, I know what they are! Why are you showing these to me?”

  “What is the common denominator on all of those documents, judge? Rather—who?” I said.

  He looked down at them again. I was certain he knew what I meant, but played clueless just the same. “Get to the point, Miss Pfiffer.”

  “Mrs.” I corrected him again. I didn’t mind if anyone else referred to me as Miss, but not him. I didn’t like the guy one bit.

  “Miss. Mrs.—I don’t care. This is your last chance and then you’d have to leave!” He was clearly getting agitated. And for what, if he was so innocent?

  “The common denominator is you, Judge Simon. You signed all of those documents that were produced over a fourteen year span both as a lawyer in private practice and a judge,” I boldly said.

  “So what? There’s nothing unusual about this.”

  “But there is,” I rebutted. “What makes this unusual is that your client, Sir Clement, ended up dead. Not just dead—murdered—and you were present to transfer title of the land he was in possession of for twelve years to two other people. What are the chances of you being both in private practice and a practicing judge on the bench, participating in the transference of title for Sir Clement’s property every single time? That there strikes me as extremely unusual. I was around in those days and Chadsworth had its fair share of lawyers, even though it could’ve used a few more judges at the time.”

  “What are you insinuating?” He was glaring at me.

  “Your grandson Raymond Allister, murdered Sir Clement’s grand-nephew as you must now know. Raymond seems to be protecting a deep family secret that I’m sure he thought Luke was on to. As a citizen of Chadsworth, I believe it is within my right, just as it is within yours, to question whether or not a member of this fine community was involved in a scheme to steal Sir Clement’s land from him even to the extent of eradicating him from the scene altogether.” My heart was thumping as I uttered those words, but I held my ground and spoke them, just the same.

  He leaned in even closer. “Are you accusing me of murder, Mrs. Pfiffer?”

  He got it right! The Mrs. this time.

  “I’m not accusing you of anything, Judge. I presented you with a simple envelope bearing simple documents with your name all over them. I would like to say that for the sake of your grandson, you should perhaps come clean about whatever it is you might know pertaining to Sir Clement and his property. For the first time since he was killed, we’re getting closer and closer to the truth. And trust me, this old, blind lady you see sitting in front of you will not rest until everyone involved in this injustice is brought to justice. The man was too good to this town to have been treated in the manner he was.” I paused. “And on that note, sir, I will leave.” I grabbed my cane and started to get up. “No need to show me out. I can find it.”

  As I walked out of there toward my waiting cab, I gave his secretary a broad smile and wished her a pleasant day. I could have only hoped my ruffling the judge’s feathers would move this unsolved case further in the direction in which it needed to go.

  12

  _________________

  “How could you go without me?” Merlene stood over me as I sipped my afternoon tea on the back porch. She was all up in arms while I sat there in my favorite chair looking out at my colorful garden. Nilla was further at the back stretched out on the grass somewhere in dreamland. The backyard was her absolute favorite spot, other than the mat next to my bed and under the living room chair when she was still small enough to fit. There was nothing like a peaceful afternoon nap; if only Merlene could keep her voice down. If Theodore walked in, he’d wonder if she and I were having a brawl.

  “I simply couldn’t risk taking you along with me, Merlene. Not there,” I told her.

  “Why on earth not?” She finally made use of the chair next to mine.

  “Because your mouth gets you into a lot of trouble—at least with me—and I was going to see the judge. You would’ve probably talked your way right into custody and who would’ve had to bail you out?”

  “David!” she replied.

  I only shook my head.

  “What? You think it would’ve had to be you?”

  “No comment. My breath is too precious, Merlene Bostwick.” I took another sip of the hibiscus tea. It was one of my favorite herbal teas.

  “I see the need to remind you, Lucille Pfiffer, that no one’s mouth is as caustic as yours! It’s a shock you came back home today instead of spending it in the county jail!”

  How dare she say such a cruel thing to me? “Are you trying to hurt my feelings, Merlene?”

  “Do you have feelings, Lucille?” She too looked ahead toward the backyard. I believe she thought she’d scored.

  “Look…let me attempt to make you understand why it wasn’t a good idea for you to come,” I said.

  “It’s over and done with now. There’s no need to explain,” she replied. “But you didn’t mind taking me along with you to break into someone’s house, did you? I could’ve landed in jail quicker with that stunt. And you didn’t mind skipping town—Luke’s House—and having me stay behind to clear up your mess, did you? Should I go on?”

  “Merlene, I’m trying to tell you that it
wasn’t just your mouth I was concerned about when it came to seeing Simon. It was the fact that two people sitting in front of him, confronting him with something as serious as theft and murder, would’ve closed him off to answering any questions we might’ve tossed at him. Think about that. Would you have done it?”

  She was quiet for a few moments, then she shrugged. “I guess I see your point.” Giving her now warm tea a sip, she added, “I apologize for the caustic remark. I didn’t completely mean that.”

  “What sort of half-arsed apology is that?” I asked.

  “The type you frequently give.”

  “There you go lying on me and halfway apologizing at the same time! You’re really a piece of work.” I shook my head.

  I heard a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Lucille. I shouldn’t have said such an awful thing to you. You mouth is not caustic, by any means.”

  Even I found that funny and we had a good laugh.

  I filled Merlene in at length about my visit with Judge Simon and how I gave it to him straight.

  “Weren’t you reluctant to have approached him with that?”

  “Reluctant? I was shaking in my boots,” I admitted, “but he wasn’t about to know that! I literally had to swallow that angst. It was Sir Clement’s life—pardon me—death on the line.”

  “Do you think anything positive will come of it?” she asked.

  “I have no clue. I’m hoping it’ll make him nervous enough to start getting careless for once, then maybe my seeing him wouldn’t have been in vain.”

  Nilla must have smelled Theodore because the moment he walked through the door, she was suddenly wide awake. Immediately, she raced into the house, past us, to greet him. Her tail was wagging a mile a minute and giving off the kind of breeze only oscillating fans are famous for.