"I don't know one person the man knew. I wasn't involved in his personal life. The way you're talking the man had some money. Maybe you should check with his banker or his lawyer and see who inherits."
"That sounds like a good idea. I'm also going to check and see who might be missing out on $50,000 a year next year, although I suspect that whoever inherits will be getting more money than that."
"That's enough to make me wish I'd gotten to know him better. I mean he drove a nice car, and he dressed nice, but I had no idea he might have been loaded."
+++
It was well into dinner time when Lou and I finished with Grimes. We needed to find some place to eat and then go over what we learned when we got back to the hotel.
29
"Well, Lou, tell me where you think we are."
"Is this a trick question?"
"No."
"The Capital Plaza Hotel. Frankfort, Kentucky."
"I mean in the investigation."
"Somewhere between finding out there's been a murder and having an idea who the murderer is."
I gave him a look and he turned more serious.
"If I can be blunt, we've talked to a lot of people and gotten nowhere."
"I agree. I think we should check out of here tomorrow, go home for the weekend, and look for the money on Monday. That means making a call to Herb Wainscott, who got us into this mess, and getting a judge that will let us look at some bank accounts. I want to know who might have a lot more money than he or she should have, or who might be desperate and need money."
"Sounds like the way to go to me. So we're headed home, going to enjoy our weekend, and heading back up here when we find out something?"
"That's what I think we should do."
"I agree."
"I want to check on Grimes and make sure he was in Indiana for a wedding. And if he was, find out when he got there and when he left. I look at him as a paradox. I consider him our most likely but our least likely suspect."
"That sounds clear as mud. Want to translate that into English?"
"Sure. In one way I consider him the most likely to have murdered Portwood, but also the least likely to have done so."
"Thanks for clearing that up for me."
"Okay, let me translate some more. Other than Lori Wildwood and Jonnetta Jarvis, who supposedly only met Portwood at the book fair, I see Grimes as the least likely person to receive $50,000 from Portwood. Supposedly, they barely knew each other. Also, if Grimes alibi holds up and he really was in Indiana, he couldn't have done it."
"But?"
"But other than Portwood's brother or sister, he seems the most likely candidate to murder someone."
"I'm still not sure if we should be following the $50,000 someone received each year, or those receiving money mentioned in Portwood's will."
"Me, either. But it could be that both trails lead to the same person. Or that neither one has anything to do with Portwood's murder. Maybe he was killed for an entirely different reason."
"Like?"
"Like I don't know. I hope we get to know everyone's financial situation by Monday. Then we can follow that trail or abandon it."
"Back to where we are now. Let's look at the people in the order we talked to them. But I won't include those people who are connected to the book fair."
"And I thought they were the most likely to have done it, because none of them are mentioned in the will, and it's doubtful any of them are now out $50,000 a year.
"Here we go, Lou. The first person we talked to was Bert McHugh. He admitted he is mentioned in the will, but said he isn't the one who received the $50,000 a year. Since he is the one who mentioned the money in the first place, he's probably telling the truth. But, as a lawyer, he's probably the most capable of hiding things from us."
"Like maybe there wasn't really any $50,000 and he's trying to get us off on the wrong track."
"For the moment let's assume that there was. Let's move on to Archie and Hazel Portwood. It's highly doubtful that either of them was the one who received $50,000 a year from their brother, considering that they didn't get along with him. However, they are mentioned in the will, and had the opportunity to poison him at some point Saturday. And it may have been somewhere other than when they walked by his table at lunch.
"Jake Cartwright is another paradox. Supposedly he was Portwood's best friend. But can someone have a best friend they see only two or three times a year?"
"Absolutely! I can think of people I would like better if I saw them only two or three times a year."
"Me, too. Let me move on, but stay with Cartwright. Supposedly he doesn't inherit, and he claims he wasn't the one who received $50,000 a year from Portwood. The only problem I have is that it seems unlikely that someone can be a guy's best friend and not be mentioned in his will."
"Maybe Cartwright didn't want any of Portwood's money."
"Maybe. Now, let's move on to those closer to home. Portwood's neighbors. I still think that Millie Longacre was lying to us when she said that she didn't find Portwood on Saturday night. She's another one who has to go very high or very low on the list. But I'm not sure which. But in a way, she and Bob Barney would have had the least chance of poisoning Portwood."
"Not if they waited until he got home. And that would be the reason that his body wasn't discovered until Sunday morning."
"But wouldn't carbon monoxide and poison be overkill?"
"No, Portwood would only be killed once, no matter what. It's just making more sure that you will inherit."
"Which both of them will do, unless we prove that either of them murdered Portwood."
"I hope we find out in the end that Elmer was the murderer. But, if not, he won't be the only one full of bull."
"Moving right along, Lou, we get to the two authors, Lori Wildwood and Jonnetta Jarvis. I don't know if they are even worth mentioning. What motive did they have? If Portwood just met them, they couldn't be the ones getting $50,00o a year from him, and they certainly don't inherit."
"Cy, since they aren't worth mentioning, why did you mention them?"
"Because one of them probably did the guy in."
"Maybe he was trying to steal Jonnetta Jarvis's yippee dog."
"I think I'm right. It is time to go home. First thing in the morning. Well, not exactly the first thing. I don't want to run into the rooster."
"Or a possum or a skunk on the road."
"Say goodnight, Gracie."
"Goodnight Gracie."
"Goodnight, George."
30
I shooed Lou out of my room because I had some phone calls to make. Three to be exact, if you count Jennifer, and I definitely count Jennifer.
"Herb, this is Cy."
"So, you've solved that thing, have you?"
"No, I'm looking for some help from you. Do you have a judge in your pocket so that you can let me get in some people's bank accounts. I'm trying to follow some money. Fifty thousand a year to be exact."
"That's enough money that I'd be interested in following it too, as long as I could catch it."
"Well, I don't think you'll get any of it. No one else will anymore, but it may or may not have something to do with Portwood's murder. I already know who inherits. I just want to see if I think that will be motive enough for murder. I think it will depend upon how much someone needs money. And I have some other things I'm going to check on, but Lou and I are going home for a couple of days."
"Good, because I don't think I can do you any good before Monday. Hopefully I'll be able to give you what you want then."
"Monday works for me. But I don't want to be working on Monday much longer."
"Me, either, Cy. I don't want to work much longer, and I don't want you to have to, but I really appreciate what you and Lou are doing. At least I was right when I said Cyril Portwood had been murdered. Now I'd like the satisfaction of knowing who did it."
"Me, too."
I bid Herb goodbye and made call number two.
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"This is Sam I Am dining on green eggs and ham."
"Eating late tonight, aren't you, Sam?"
"You retired guys wouldn't understand."
"Actually I'm unretired right now."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, Lou and I are helping a friend solve a murder. Free of charge. Which is how I'd like for you to help me. I want to give you some people to check on, and I don't even need the information before Monday."
"Turning over a new leaf, are you, Cy?"
"Just slowing down in my old age."
I gave Sam Schumann the names of the people I wanted him to check on, then ended the call, and made my most important call.
"This is the guy who loves you."
"I'm afraid you'll have to give me more information than that."
"How about this is the guy who has changed his mind and isn't coming home this weekend?"
"Okay, you had me at coming home this weekend. So, are you really coming home? Just to see me?"
"Well, that and I miss the old homestead. I have some work I need to do during the day tomorrow, but how would you like to go out tomorrow night?"
"You mean like grilling out back?"
"I was thinking like out away from the house."
"Sounds good. Do we have to take that other couple with us?"
"We might. One of them might want to ride in my new van."
"I guess that nixes my suggestion about going to the drive-in."
"Well, that and the fact that Hilldale doesn't have a drive-in."
"Cy, didn't you ever go to the drive-in when you were young? Most couples forgot there was a movie. You and I can always pretend we are at the drive-in."
"I think I like your suggestion. And I did go to the drive-in a few times as a teenager, but usually with Lou, and we went for the food and the movies. I need to go now, but I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay, be careful coming home."
I pushed the button to end the call. I spent a few minutes getting nowhere on the case and then went to bed.
31
Lou and I had decided to let the rooster wake us the next morning, and it takes the rooster a while to get all the way up to the eighth floor at the Capital Plaza Hotel. It didn't take the maid quite that long, so even though I hung out a Do Not Disturb sign, the noises in the hall woke me before I was ready. An hour later I went and knocked on Lou's door. We decided to eat breakfast in the hotel, and then check out and head for home. We carted everything down in the elevator, and packed up the van.
One thing I liked about my new van was its roominess. Another thing was the Sirius XM Radio. It would only be free for a short time, but I had already decided that when it came time to pay for it or give it up I was keeping it. Singing to the tunes on the radio made the trip home seem shorter. I had no problem singing and asking Lou to get off my cloud, and that I couldn't get no satisfaction, and he sang the same thing back to me. But I never looked at him when they played a love song. I tried my best to sound like Herman's Hermits when I sang Leaning on the Lamppost and like Elvis when I sang along with In the Ghetto. I wasn't as good at mimicking the Dave Clark Five's Over and Over, and Blood, Sweat, & Tears Spinning Wheel. We were just getting back to the Dave Clark Five with Catch Us If You Can as we entered Hilldale and I saw flashing lights in the rearview mirror. I pulled over and a few seconds later George walked up to my door.
"I caught you going twenty-six in a twenty-five mile an hour zone, but I'm willing to drop that charge because grand theft auto comes with a longer sentence. Cy, where did you steal this thing?"
I took a few minutes to share with George about Lightning's ordeal, and he assured me that if he had been Catholic he would have said a few Hail Marys and Our Fathers, and if he had been Irish Catholic he would have come to the wake for Lightning.
"You're in luck, George. We're going to have a celebration service instead."
"When is it?"
"Tomorrow after church."
"I'm sorry I've already made an appointment to have my hair dyed."
"I don't know anyone else who's had their hair dyed, but I know a few that their hair ran away. Has anyone else died?"
"No, but a few have run away. They're not dying here quite as often these days, now that we've raised our standards for employment."
"I'm sorry to hear that you'll be losing your job. But you can come and hang out with Lou and me. How are you at cornhole and miniature golf?"
"Never played either, which means I shouldn't have any trouble beating the likes of you."
"You beat the likes of me and I'll have you arrested for assault and battery."
I could have continued, but I had things I wanted to do, so I told George goodbye and wished him luck with his retirement.
I dropped Lou off at his place. He went around and told the old ladies in his building that he was sorry he missed their last cornhole tournament, but that he would be back to stay soon. The other three women in his building were happy to hear that. First of all, it's hard to play cornhole with three people. And Lou was a man and was better than any of those older women, so all of them wanted to be on Lou's side.
32
I didn't plan to waste my afternoon, so I called and had a pizza delivered and then headed to the computer to see what I could find out about any of our suspects. The going was slow until I got to Facebook. And it was even slow there when I typed in the names of my best suspects. It didn't surprise me that neither Millie Longacre or Bob Barney were on Facebook. Neither was Bert McHugh. But Dan Grimes was, as well as the four authors. Portwood and Cartwright were Facebook friends, and so were Lori Wildwood and Jonnetta Jarvis, although I suspect theirs was a recent friendship. But Portwood and Grimes weren't Facebook friends, which made sense, because Grimes said they didn't know each other all that well. And there were no other combinations of Facebook friends. I read Portwood's, Cartwright's, and Grimes's posts, which didn't take long, because from what I could tell none of the three spent much time on Facebook.
It was a little different with Lori Wildwood and Jonnetta Jarvis. Since Lori had been writing longer, I started with her. I checked and saw no posts between the two authors prior to the day after the book fair. I looked over Lori's posts and found several who commented on how much they liked her newest book. I jotted down their names. I didn't see anything out of line for an author, so I switched to read the posts on Jonnetta's page. Friends were congratulating her on her book, and some commented about getting it at the Kentucky Book Fair, and reading it and loving it. I noticed that three of those people were ones who also posted about getting Lori Wildwood's books. I sent the three living authors a friend request and both women accepted it immediately. Then I chose one of the women who had bought books written by both authors and sent her an instant message telling her that I too bought books at the book fair from both of those authors. She responded by telling me that she also bought books from some of the other mystery authors, and I told her I did too, but cut off the conversation because I realized she wouldn't be able to help me. I wanted to find someone who bought from only those two women. So, I moved on to another friend of both of the authors. She responded within a couple of minutes. I like it when I want to contact someone and they are available. She told me a friend recommended both authors, and I asked her if she would be willing to give me her phone number so I could talk to her about it. I think she must have checked on me first, because it was a few minutes before she responded. When she sent me her number, I called her immediately and introduced myself.
"I'm curious as to which friend recommended the books to you because a friend recommended both authors to me, too."
I don't usually lie, unless it helps me solve a murder case, so I was hoping that God would forgive me for that.
"Was it either Cyril Portwood or Dan Grimes who recommended you?" I asked her.
"I don't think so, but I've heard that one name somewhere."
"Which one?"
"The Portwood guy."
"He's a mystery author."
"Oh, yeah, he was the guy at their table, wasn't he?"
"That's right. How come you don't know who told you about the books?"
"Because I only know him by his nickname. Georgetown. We were talking one day and the subject got around to me going to attend the book fair, and he asked me if I liked mysteries. I told him I did, and he said he was trying to help out a couple of new authors. He asked me if he paid for the books if I would being willing to buy them and read them. I told him yes, but that he didn't have to pay me. He asked if I had any friends who like mysteries, and when I told him I did he told me he would be willing to pay for my friends to buy those books, too. He said he wanted these two women to get off to a good start and he was willing to help them to the tune of two hundred dollars."
"Really?"
I was sure that the man who told her was either Portwood or Grimes, so I described both men to her.
"No, he doesn't look anything like either of them. He's a big guy, and he slicks his hair down with something that looks like hair oil, the way my mom said some men used to do, back in the day. Anyway, he runs a combo small grocery and deli downtown, and he's a real nice guy, so I pop in there once or twice a week for lunch, since I work near there."
I asked her where the deli was located and she gave me the address. I planned to check him out when I got back to Frankfort. Maybe he was a go-between for Portwood or Grimes.
"Do you know if the authors know he paid people to buy their books?"
"He told me they didn't, and he didn't want me telling them. He wanted them to think that people are interested in their books."
"Did he write their names down for you?"
"He already had a typewritten sheet, asked me to cut it up and give copies to my friends, too, so all of us would buy from the same two authors."
I thanked her for her time. The other woman on my list had her phone number on her Facebook page, so I called her. Her answers matched the first lady, except that she remembered who Portwood was, but had never read any of his books. She said she mainly read women authors.
Murder at the Book Fair Page 13