The KenKen Killings

by Parnell Hall

  And no one watching the prisoner.

  That left him locked up inside. His lawyer was with him, but no police officer.

  Cora fumbled in her purse for a cigarette. Came out with her gun. That was an idea. She could shoot her way in and have a talk with Melvin.

  Cora stuck the gun back in her purse, pulled out her cigarettes. Looked for a match. Of course she didn’t have one. It was that type of day. She glanced around for someone she could ask. No one smoked anymore. Damn. What was the world coming to?

  Cora started pulling things out of her purse. The first thing she came up with was her diaphragm. Great. Let’s wave that around the crowd a little. Rick Reed can get a shot.

  Cora stuck it back, groped some more. What felt like a lighter was only a lipstick. Another thing that felt like a lighter actually was but didn’t work.

  An oddly shaped object proved to be a string of little firecrackers. She’d picked them up in a novelty shop for far more than they were worth. Probably meant they were illegal. She wasn’t up on such ordinances. She shoved them back in the purse, groped some more.

  Just as she was cursing her fate, one lone match.

  Cora turned her back to the wind, bent over, cupped her hands. Flames shot up toward the cigarette. She sucked in. Yes. No. Yes!

  The cigarette caught fire. Cora blew out the match, straightened up, sucked glorious smoke into her lungs. Smiled wryly at the irony of feeling elation at satisfying a disgusting vice. Cora didn’t care. She sucked at the nicotine, tried to calm her frazzled nerves.

  Tried to think straight. Becky was right, damn it. It was Melvin, and she wasn’t thinking straight. Or was it Sherry who’d said that? Or everybody?

  Cora looked over at the police station, where Rick Reed was trying to interview Sam Brogan. That would be a fascinating interview. Rick would be lucky if he got anything besides “Yup” or “Un-huh.”

  Still, it was keeping Sam busy.

  Cora walked down the street. Everyone was looking at the police station. No one was looking at her.

  Cora crouched behind a parked car, fumbled in her purse again. Pulled out the string of firecrackers. She puffed on the cigarette until it glowed, then held the end to the fuse.

  It sputtered, then began sizzling and sending off sparks. That was good. Cora was afraid it was too old. But apparently not. She set the firecrackers on the ground, stood up, walked quickly back to the other side of the crowd, and pushed her way to the front.

  Rick Reed was clearly taxing his brain to the limit formulating questions to which Sam Brogan could answer “Yup” or “Un-huh.”

  “Did you see the body?” Rick ventured.

  The first firecracker went off, then the rest in rapid succession.

  People gasped.

  Everyone turned, including Sam Brogan and Rick Reed.

  Cora went up the steps of the police station and slipped inside.

  Chapter

  43

  Melvin was sitting on the narrow cot in the holding cell. His attorney was standing by the bars, trying to reason with him.

  Cora sized up the scene, said, “Screw, shyster.”

  Lennie Fleckstein stared at her. “What?”

  “I need to talk to your client. Take a hike.”

  “Like hell.”

  “Melvin, tell your mouthpiece to beat it.”

  Melvin grinned. “You’re dating yourself with your gun moll lingo.”

  “Yeah, yeah. When the first gun was fired, I pulled the trigger. You, wait outside. If a cop comes in, try to head him off, and start talking loud.”

  “I don’t work for you.”

  “Tell him to get lost, will you? We haven’t got much time.”

  “Beat it, Lennie.”

  “She’s the opposing party,” the lawyer protested.

  “Not in the murder, she’s not. Stop thinking lawsuit. We get me out of jail, then we crush her like a bug.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Cora said. “Now, get out of here before I throw you out.”

  Lennie grumbled and stalked out the door.

  Melvin was grinning from ear to ear. “Christ, that’s how I remember you. What a hellcat!”

  “Oh, isn’t that what every girl loves to hear.”

  “Come on. It was a perfect matchup. You always gave as good as you got.”

  “You cheated on the honeymoon.”

  “You cheated before it.”

  “I did not.”

  “You were so drunk you don’t remember.”

  “I remember perfectly. You sneaking out with the floozy.”

  “I never snuck out. You may have passed out.”

  “You’re not endearing yourself, Melvin.”

  “Oh, no? What are you doing here?”

  “Trying to get you out of jail. Before that stupid ambulance chaser gets you convicted.”

  Melvin shook his head. “Couldn’t happen.”

  “That’s what you think. You saw the victim last night. Cops know it. They’re looking to prove it. Bet you a nickel you weren’t careful about fingerprints.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play dumb. You were unhappy with Lilly Clemson’s testimony. Thought she could do better. Tried to threaten and/or seduce it out of her.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Lilly Clemson. Indirectly. Your charm didn’t work on her. She called her boyfriend. Told him what you tried to do. She was very upset.”

  “She called her boyfriend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “After I left?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s good.”

  “How is that good?”

  “Proves I left. Right? Dead girls don’t make phone calls. The boyfriend proves I left.”

  “You coulda come back.”

  “Coulda, woulda, shoulda. All I have to do is prove I left and it doesn’t matter how many fingerprints the prosecution throws around.” He spread his arms. “I didn’t do it.” Melvin smiled roguishly. “So, now that that’s settled, you wanna catch some dinner?”

  “I don’t think the preschooler you’re dating would like that very much.”

  “She thinks I’m in jail. We can knock one off before she even knows I’m out.”

  “You’re not out.”

  “I will be, as soon as you tell the flatfoot about the exonerating phone call. Hell, I should buy the boyfriend a beer. Guy’s all broken up, still has time to do me a good turn. Come on, get me outta here, we’ll go someplace special. Maybe skip dinner, check into a motel.”

  “You got a teenage supermodel waiting for you and you wanna take me to a motel?”

  “You know how boring young girls are? Aside from the sex, they’re no real competition.”

  “Oh, you smooth talker, you. So you’re willing to endure some boring lovemaking in the hope of a stimulating conversation.”

  Melvin grinned wickedly. “As if you could ever be boring. Before things fell apart, remember how good it was?”

  Cora did, just for a second. She hoped it didn’t show on her face. Realized it didn’t matter. Melvin would catch the hesitation. Melvin always did.

  Desperately, she changed the subject. “I don’t think you understand. The cops know all about the boyfriend. How do you think they found Lilly to begin with? Boyfriend went to the cops, told them about you. You may think it proves you left, but clearly the cops don’t. The boyfriend story is what got you in here.”

  Melvin’s eyes twinkled. “You ran like hell from reminiscing, didn’t you? You know what we had. And now look at you. You must have quit drinking. You’re sharp. You’re focused. Hell, we could take Manhattan.”

  “Then we’ll take Berlin.”

  “That’s right. Hide behind song lyrics. You always were quick with a quote.” He smiled at her.

  Cora smiled back. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

  The quick change of subject caught him up short. “Now, why would you bring up a thing like t
hat?”

  “Shot in the dark,” Cora said. “It stands to reason. You were always married. And not to the bimbo, either, that’s for sure.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “She’s too happy.”

  “You’re quick with the zinger.”

  “About your wife.”

  “What about her?”

  “So, you do have a wife.”

  “See, now you’re bluffing. You know I’ve got a wife. Your hot-pants lawyer would have looked her up.”

  “She did. You’re married. How’s your wife figure in all this?”

  “She doesn’t.”

  “Oh?”

  “Bloom’s off the rose. She’s filing for divorce.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Huh?”

  “If she hasn’t filed yet, how do you know?”

  “It isn’t rocket science. I’ve been married before, you know.”

  “Did she tell you she’s filing?”

  “No. She said she forgives me and we can work things out.”

  “So?”

  “That’s a red flag. You hear that, you run like hell.”

  “But she hasn’t made a move yet?”

  “Not that I know of. If she’s approached an attorney, he hasn’t approached me. Why are we talking about my wife? I can’t think of a more boring subject.”

  Cora took a breath. “It wasn’t the first time.”

  Melvin blinked. “What wasn’t?”

  “Lilly Clemson. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen her. You took her out to dinner. Before the trial.”

  He frowned. “The boyfriend said that.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Why in the world would the boyfriend say that?”

  “Is it true?”

  “That’s not the point. How would he know?”

  “Lilly told him.”

  “Really? Why would she do that? She might tell him I came by, tried to get her to change her testimony. But take her out? She wouldn’t tell him that. Not if she went. She’d try to keep him from knowing that.”

  “So, it’s true,” Cora said.

  Melvin grinned wickedly. “What’s the matter? You jealous?”

  Through the door came the voice of Lennie Fleckstein, talking loudly. “Hey, Chief, where have you been?”

  Then Harper’s voice: “Where’s your client?”

  “He’s locked up. I meant to ask you, Chief—”

  The door was flung open.

  Cora smiled. “Come in, Chief. We were just talking about you.”

  Chapter

  44

  Harper was furious. He slammed the door of his private office, turned to face Cora. “All right, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Trying to help you out.”

  “Oh, sure. Interrogate my prisoner before I get a chance to. Without his lawyer present. How the hell did you manage that?”

  “Just asked him to leave.”

  “Do you know what a mess this could be? Do you realize what Rick Reed could do with that?”

  “Don’t tell him.”

  “I’m not amused, Cora.”

  “I kind of got that. You wanna keep beating me up, or you wanna know what I know?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Melvin didn’t do it.”

  “Oh, great,” Harper said sarcastically. “The guy bats his eyes at you and suddenly he’s innocent. What the hell has that creep got that women turn to jelly?”

  “I’m not turning to jelly. I’m trying to help you out. If you don’t appreciate it, I’ll shut up and you can solve your own damn case, but I happen to have the goods.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry that Melvin happens to be innocent if it makes you so angry. But the facts are the facts. You wanna hear ’em, or you wanna complain you don’t like the way they add up?”

  Harper took a deep breath. Exhaled. “Fine. What are the facts? Why is Melvin innocent?”

  “Largely because he didn’t do it. But that’s not what you mean. You mean, how do I know that he’s innocent? Melvin points to the fact Lilly Clemson told the boyfriend about his visit. On the theory she couldn’t do it if she was dead. It’s a poor defense. Of course, he could have come back. But here’s the thing. Melvin doesn’t know his wife’s in town.”

  “You asked him?”

  “Of course not. Then he’d know his wife’s in town. I asked him about his marriage. As far as he knows, his wife is at home plotting things with lawyers, or preparing to plot things with lawyers, or whatever. He has no idea she’s here. But she is, and if she followed him at night to a young lady’s apartment, she might think the worst, and if she was a jealous, vindictive sort, she just might take it out on the woman in question.”

  Harper snorted in disgust. “So, that’s your reasonable doubt. I suppose you suggested this to Melvin’s attorney.”

  “Then they’d know she’s in town. They don’t know, and let’s keep it that way. Until such time as you arrest her for the murder, or pin the crime on someone else.”

  “I’m still waiting for your proof that Melvin didn’t do it.”

  “I gave you a logical inference.”

  “I don’t want a logical inference. You said you had proof.”

  “How about this. Melvin left Lilly alive. That’s attested to by Lilly’s boyfriend. Melvin went back to the motel, where Bambi will swear he never left again.”

  “Her testimony’s worthless. She’d swear that in any case.”

  “Uncontested, it gets him off.”

  “That’s the prosecutor’s problem, not mine.”

  “It is when Ratface wants to know why you arrested a suspect he can’t convict, and demands you do better.”

  “He’s the best I’ve got.”

  “That isn’t even halfway true. You got Mrs. Melvin. You don’t like the jealousy bit? The fact she’s here at all proves it.”

  “She’s getting evidence for a divorce, not knocking off his girlfriends.”

  “What about the boyfriend? Melvin calls on his girlfriend, and what does he do? Go over and make sure she’s all right? No, he goes to the police. Makes a complaint. Gets you to go. Why? Because he doesn’t want to be the one to find the body.”

  “What a minute, wait a minute. You’re saying the boyfriend killed her?”

  “He’s more likely than Melvin.”

  “Why?”

  Cora threw up her hands. “It’s like talking to a wall. Melvin had no motive. So she didn’t do great in court. The punishment for that is death?”

  “You make it sound ridiculous.”

  “Because it is ridiculous.”

  “Is it any more ridiculous than the theory her boyfriend killed her because a guy threatened her for the way she testified in his divorce hearing?”

  “Not when she went out to dinner with him.” Cora frowned. “Do I mean ‘Not when’? This is too long and convoluted a dialogue chain. I’m not sure if the negative is correct here. Or do I mean to say ‘It is when’?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Linguistics. Never mind. The point is, Melvin took Lilly out to dinner. Before she testified.”

  “You know that for a fact?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I know the way your mind works. The more Melvin was involved with her, the more reason he’d have to kill her. Which isn’t true. The more Melvin was involved with her, the more reason her boyfriend would have to kill her.”

  “He didn’t do it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He went to pieces when he saw her.”

  “Of course he went to pieces. Her throat had been cut.”

  “It wouldn’t be a shock if he’d done it.”

  “Sure it would. Take a killer, throw his murder in his face. You think he wouldn’t react?”

  “Crabtree still looks good for it. You throw in he went o
ut with the girl—”

  Cora inquired if Chief Harper was an amorous individual of limited intelligence.

  The chief was shocked. “Cora!”

  “Every time I think you’re getting better you disappoint me. So Melvin killed both of his witnesses against me in the alimony hearing? How the hell does that make any sense?”

  “We didn’t arrest him for both crimes. Just the one.”

  “Do you think someone else did the other? And they both just happened to leave KenKens with the bodies? Two separate serial killers armed with number puzzles?”

  “If they each did only one, they’re not serial killers.”

  “No. They’re copycat killers. It’s a fraternity stunt. Everyone has to commit a similar crime.”

  “Speaking of number puzzles…”

  Cora groaned. “For Christ’s sake.”

  “Have you solved it yet?”

  “Dan just gave it to me.”

  “Right. You had no time to solve it. You were too busy interviewing my prisoner.”

  “I’ll be happy to solve it, but it’s not going to mean a thing.”

  “Is that a professional opinion or just an educated guess?”

  “I’m not sure it’s educated.”

  “Come on, Cora. You gonna help me or not?”

  “I’ve been helping you. I’ve been doing nothing but helping you. Not that you seem to notice.”

  “Come on. Solve the damn thing.”

  Cora sat down, whizzed through the puzzle.

  “There you go.”

  “So what does it mean?”

  “I have no idea, without a clue to point me in the right direction.”

  “The other one pointed you to a mailbox with a gun.”

  “That one didn’t come with a corpse. It came after the murder.”

  “Yeah. And guess who it was delivered to? The gentleman currently in jail.”

  “You keep coming back to Melvin.”

  “No, the clues keep coming back to Melvin. I’m just following the clues.” Harper pointed to the KenKen. “So tell me, what is there about this number puzzle that points to Melvin that you don’t want me to know?”

  “You think it’s his cell phone number? Too short. The number of women he’s been with might be about right, but how would anybody know?”