by Parnell Hall
“Yeah, right.”
“Michiko.” Minami shook her head. It was a hopeless task, trying to explain to a teenager who wouldn’t listen. “This Puzzle Lady, she is a big deal. Her TV ads play in our country.”
“Your TV ads play in our country.”
“I live in our country. My TV ads do not play in the United States.”
“They’re in Japanese.”
“That is not the point.”
“Yeah, yeah, that is not the point. I do not know what the point is, but it is not that.”
“Are you being rude again?”
“No.”
“It is important that I do well here.”
“That is stupid.”
“It is not stupid. It is a matter of honor.”
“Oh, pooh.”
“Do not pooh honor.” Minami shook her head. “You are young—you do not know.”
“Yes, yes, I am young—I do not know,” Michiko mimicked.
“That is what you always say. Ever since I was ten. I am not ten anymore.”
“No, but you act like it.”
“I will stop the car.”
“You will not stop the car. You will drive the car, and I will keep my appointment. And my books will sell many copies and you will go to the best school where you will learn many things.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Maybe you will even learn manners.”
A police car whizzed by, heading in the opposite direction.
Minami’s eyes widened. “Stop the car!”
“What?”
“Stop the car!”
“You said don’t stop the car.”
“Stop the car! Turn around!”
“Why?”
“That was her!”
Chapter 5
Chief Harper glanced over at Cora in the passenger seat. “So, what are you so eager to get away from?”
“Huh?”
“You ran out of there like the house was on fire. What’s up?”
“Are you kidding? You got a murder case.”
“Well, it’s not the crime of the century. If it’s even a crime. By your standards, it’s pretty dull.”
“That’s a hell of an attitude, Chief. After all, Ida’s dead.”
“Are you sure her name is Ida?”
“How long have you lived in this town? A lot longer than I have, that’s for sure. You oughta know everyone.”
“I knew her by sight.”
“How’d you know her last name?”
“Doctor told me. And it was on the mailbox. And she’s Jason’s wife.”
“How come you know his name and not hers?”
“I never arrested her.”
“If her husband’s in jail, who found her?”
“Cleaning lady.”
“She had a cleaning lady?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t have a cleaning lady.”
“You live with your niece.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“I gotta move out.”
“Why?”
“Why? She’s a newlywed. You know what that’s like. Well, you probably don’t remember.”
Harper flushed slightly, said, “You changed the subject nicely.”
“From what?”
“Why were you so eager to get out of the house?”
“Oh. I got company coming.”
“What?”
Cora told Chief Harper about the Sudoku Lady.
“There’s a Japanese puzzle constructor showing up at your house?”
“That’s the rumor.”
“You haven’t spoken to her?”
“I don’t know her.”
“How come she hasn’t called?”
“She doesn’t know me.”
Chief Harper shook his head. “Last time we had Japanese visitors it didn’t turn out so well.”
“I got a book contract.”
“And people wound up dead.”
“That was an added bonus.”
Chief Harper pulled into the driveway of a two-story frame house, white, with green shutters, like half the other homes in town.
“Distinctive,” Cora said.
The door was locked. Chief Harper produced a key.
“Where did you get that?”
“Cleaning lady.”
They went through the foyer into the living room.
Ashes, spilled out from the hearth, marked where the body had lain.
“Which andiron?” Cora said.
“The one on the right.”
Cora bent down, reached into her floppy, drawstring purse. She pulled out a handkerchief, moved the andiron slightly. “Heavy. No one picked this up and bopped her on the head.”
“Right.”
“A trace of blood on the edge?”
“Yes, it is. It’s not conclusive.”
“That’s not what I mean. If it’s her blood, which is entirely likely, the evidence would indicate she fell on the andiron.”
“Yes.”
“And bounced off and rolled over and expired.”
“I suppose,” Harper said grudgingly.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“The wound wasn’t very deep. I’ve seen a guy with a tenpenny spike in his head.” Cora looked at him in amazement. He waved his hand. “Nail gun accident. Never mind. The point is, that guy lived. This was a shallow cut.”
“What does Barney say?”
“Says she’s dead. Which I could have figured. As to why, he said that might take longer. From which I gather, our medical examiner has an early tee time. That’s golf, not tea and crumpets.”
“Crumpets? Chief, are you sure you’re not British?”
“The thing is, we don’t have a cause of death except for the blow on the head. If we assume the andiron didn’t kill her, the question is why did she fall in the hearth.”
“If she was backing up from an intruder, she could have tripped over the coffee table.”
Harper frowned. “Would that be murder?”
Cora studied the coffee table, considering the idea. “If she was backing away from an intruder, I would say any harm she encountered would be a direct result of the menacing act. How’s that work for you, Chief? Could a person trip over the coffee table and fall in the grate?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t have to. Look where the table is. You’d have to take two steps sideways to hit the andiron.”
“Unless you were flung with force.”
“Are you saying she was pushed over backward?”
“Isn’t that better for all concerned? Well, not for Ida, of course. She hadn’t been drinking?”
“Again, we have to wait for Barney Nathan. But she hadn’t apparently been drinking. So, any ideas?”
“I like the husband.”
“The one that’s in jail with the perfect alibi.”
“That’s why I like him. If you were going to kill your wife, you’d of course have a perfect alibi.”
“If it’s perfect, he couldn’t have done it.”
“He made it appear perfect. We just have to figure out how.”
Chief Harper groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to come up with another one of your convoluted—” He broke off at a sound from the foyer.
“Was that the front door?” Cora said.
“It couldn’t be. Jason’s still in jail.”
Chief Harper turned and gawked.
Standing in the doorway were an attractive Japanese woman, in a few hundred yards of ornate silk, and a rather sullen-looking Japanese teenager.
The woman fluttered her arms like an immense silken butterfly, smiled brightly, and said, “Hello.”
Chapter 6
The Japanese woman could not have seemed more comfortable had she been in her own living room. “Forgive me,” she said. “We have not officially met. I am Minami, the Sudoku Lady. This is my niece, Michiko. And you are the famous Puzzle Lady.”
Cora stared at her. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“I am on my way to your house when I see you in a police car. I think you may need help.”
“You thought I’d been arrested?”
“I do not know what to think. Your American customs are not the same as ours. Perhaps you use police cars the way we use taxis.”
“Forgive me for interrupting, but I am the chief of police. I still don’t know what you’re doing here.”
“If you are the chief of police, it is a piece of good luck. Perhaps there is a crime.”
“Why would that be a bit of good luck?”
“I like crime. I am sorry, that is not to say I like it, but when it has happened, I like to figure it out. It is like solving a puzzle.”
“It is not like solving a puzzle,” Chief Harper said. “When you solve a puzzle, no one is dead.”
“Someone is dead? This is a crime scene?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is there no ribbon? On American television, when there is a crime scene, there is a ribbon. Or is that just on TV?”
“No, we use crime scene ribbons.”
“But you do not have one. So you are not sure it is a crime.”
“The woman fell and hit her head in the fireplace. She died.”
Minami nodded sagely. “You should arrest her husband.”
Harper’s mouth fell open. “Why do you say that?”
“When a wife is killed, it is most often the husband.” Minami indicated Cora. “Has she not told you this? You have the big reputation for solving crime.”
“Do I now?”
“In our country. It is why they buy your book.”
Cora Felton dug her hand into her drawstring purse. Harper wondered if she was going for her gun. Instead, she came out with her cigarettes. She pulled one out, put it in her mouth. On second thought, she offered one to Minami.
“I do not smoke.”
“I’ll have one,” Michiko said.
“You will not! Your parents did not let you go with me to learn bad habits.” Minami raised a disapproving eyebrow at Cora. “I am surprised you would be such a bad example. You are supposed to be a role model.”
“Yeah, right,” Cora said, and lit her cigarette.
“See? She says it,” Michiko said.
“This is getting out of hand,” Harper said. “Let’s take it outside, put up a crime scene ribbon.”
“You will arrest the husband?”
“I already arrested the husband.”
Her eyes widened. “I do not understand. You are not sure it is a murder, and yet you have made an arrest.”
“I arrested the husband for being drunk and disorderly. I arrested him last night. He was in jail when she was killed. That’s why there is no crime scene ribbon. It was probably an accidental death.”
“Are you sure he did not plan to be arrested? Kill her and then go to jail?”
“I think it’s pretty clear that did not happen. As soon as I can confirm it, I’ll let him go.”
The Sudoku Lady turned to Cora. “You are busy. Our meeting must be postponed. My niece and I must find a place to stay. We will contact you when this unfortunate incident is behind us.”
Minami backed away, bowing and smiling, and herding her young niece toward the car.
Chapter 7
Chief Harper glanced over at Cora. They were halfway back to town, and the Puzzle Lady hadn’t said a word. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“You’re not happy with our new acquaintance?”
“Well, isn’t she the most annoying woman?”
“I’ve met some pretty annoying women.”
“Give me a break. She just wanders into the crime scene and starts poking around.”
“There was no crime scene ribbon.”
“Now you’re taking her side?”
“Side? You both have sudoku books. What, it’s like who has the best numbers? I thought you only used one through nine.”
“Go ahead, make fun. Here the woman just waltzes in without so much as a howdy-do and starts poking into the case.”
“You find that irritating? I’d be interested to get your opinion on that.”
Cora gave him a look. “Is that irony? Are you trying to use irony on me, Chief? You’re not that good at it. You really need symbols. Like on the Internet. Emoticons, so people will know you’re kidding. I hate that. Kind of ruins a deadpan, you know what I mean?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. I’m just talking. Tell me, do you think this is an accidental death?”
“Of course it is.”
“Then why did we just spend forty-five minutes poking around the hearth examining every little thing?”
“I like to be sure.”
“You were pretty sure before Little Miss Sudoku stuck her nose in.”
“I still am.”
“So, what changed?”
“If somebody’s going to make a fuss, I like to be prepared. If there are questions, I like to have answers.”
“Did you get any?”
“There’s none to get. You know it, and I know it. There’s nothing left to do but offer Jason our sympathy and let him out of jail.”
“I wish our Japanese friend could be there. Not that I want to rub it in her face, you understand.”
Chief Harper pulled up in front of the police station, a white frame building distinguishable from the others on the block only by a black-and-white wooden sign that read POLICE.
Officer Dan Finley was reading a magazine, which, at the small-town station, was practically part of the job description. The young officer was a Puzzle Lady fan. He looked up from his desk, said, “Hi, Chief. Hi, Miss Felton. What’s up?”
“Listen, Dan. About Mrs. Fielding—”
“Ida.”
“Yeah, Ida.”
Dan shook his head. “Terrible thing.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the holding cells. “You gonna let Jason go?”
“Is he awake?”
“He is now.”
“Huh?”
“He had a visitor. I suppose she woke him up.”
Harper’s eyes narrowed. “Becky Baldwin? How’d she know he was here?”
Dan waved the questions away. “No, no, not an attorney. At least I don’t think so.” He considered. “I suppose she could have been? …”
“Dan.”
“Sorry. It just never occurred to me. I guess that’s prejudice—”
“Dan! Who was it?”
“Oh. A Japanese lady.”
Harper swore, immediately apologized to Cora.
Cora smiled. “I’ve heard worse.”
Harper was controlling himself with an effort. “She still here?”
“The Japanese lady? No, she left.”
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find her.”
“Sir?”
“Find her and bring her in.”
Dan got up from his desk with a sounds-stupid-but-if-you-say-so attitude. “What if she doesn’t want to come?”
“Arrest her.”
Chapter 8
Jason Fielding smelled like a brewery. To Cora Felton, who had given up drinking, it was an uncomfortable reminder. His eyes were glassy; his hair was unkempt; there was a stain on his shirtfront from some spilled drink or other. He sat on the cot with his head in his hands, rocking back and forth.
He looked up at them through bloodshot eyes. “My wife is dead.”
It was somewhere between a question and a statement, the diseased ramblings of an alcohol-riddled brain.
“Who told you that?”
Jason fought to focus. “Lady.”
“What lady?”
“Silk. Is she dead?”
“Mr. Fielding, do you know where you are?”
“In jail.”
“Do you know why?”
“Had
a drink. Threw a chair.”
“Threw a chair?”
“Think so. Not sure.”
“Hang on a minute, Chief,” Cora said. “Jason. The lady who was just here. The silk lady. What did she want to know?”
“If I was Jason. Course I am. Is she dead?”
“What else did the silk lady want to know?”
Jason furrowed his brow, moaned, said, “Bar.”
“What bar?” Harper demanded.
“What bar?”
“What bar?”
“Bar.”
Harper scowled.
“Mind if I step in here, Chief. You’re getting in a rut. She asked you what bar you were drinking in?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell her?”
Before he could answer, Becky Baldwin came swooping in. The young Bakerhaven attorney was holding a briefcase. If it had had a number on its side, she could have passed for a Deal or No Deal model.
Becky struck a pose, said, “So?”
“Wait in my office,” Harper snapped.
“Wait in your office?”
“Yes,” Chief Harper said. “Why aren’t you doing that?”
“While you interrogate my client?”
“Jason is your client?”
“He will be after we’ve had a little talk. If you’d like to give me a few minutes.”
Chief Harper exhaled noisily. “No, I do not want to give you a few minutes. You’re either his attorney or you’re not. If you’re not his attorney, I’d like you to wait in my office. I’ll be right with you.”
“You want to hire me, Jason?”
Jason looked at her. “What for?”
“See?” Becky announced. “He is obviously in need of representation. Have you advised him of his rights?”
“Well—”
“It’s a moot point, considering the shape he’s in. If a defendant is incapable of understanding his rights, reading them doesn’t count. So, which is it? You read ’em and it doesn’t count, or you haven’t even read ’em?” Becky turned back to the prisoner. “Jason, do you want to hire me?”
“Before he decides, I think you should make it clear that you’re an attorney and not a lap dancer,” Cora put in helpfully.
“Jason, have they told you your wife is dead?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Lady did.”
“What lady?”
“Silk lady.”
“Great.” Becky turned back to the chief. “I’m going to have to ask you to stop interrogating my client until he’s able to understand the questions. Is that clear, or do I have to get a court order?”