EQMM, Sep-Oct 2006

by Dell Magazine Authors

  "Hello, Millie. I was over at the McGregors and thought I'd stop by to see how Julius's leg is coming along."

  "I'm concerned about him, Dr. Hawthorne. He's been acting even crazier than usual. I had Sheriff Lens come out and talk to him yesterday.” I followed her into a living room cluttered with tables and bookshelves lined with plants and china figurines. “I've been giving him the painkillers you prescribed and they make him dopey at night, but during the day he just rants and raves."

  "I'll see if I can do anything for him."

  She led the way up the creaking staircase to the second floor. He'd stayed up there to be near the bathroom, though I was glad to see he was seated in an armchair by the window, his immobilized leg supported by a footstool. A bare right foot stuck out from the bottom of his cast. The room was sparsely furnished, with not even a bookshelf in sight. A Sears catalogue on one table seemed to be his only reading matter.

  "How are you feeling, Julius?” I asked, opening my black bag.

  "I'll feel a lot better after I've killed that bastard Cedric. He sold me a tractor damn near killed me, and now he says it was my own fault."

  "You two have been feuding for as long as I can remember. Isn't it time you called a truce?"

  "When he's dead."

  "And when will that be?” I asked to humor him.

  "Tomorrow midnight."

  "You can't do that, Julius. You've got your right leg in a cast."

  "That won't stop me."

  "Do I have to get a sheriff's deputy to park outside your house all night?"

  He gave a sly, twisted smile. “Wouldn't matter. I can be invisible."

  I sighed. “Julius, you need to see someone who can help you. I'm just a general practitioner."

  "Don't believe me, do you?” He held up his right hand, showing me a gold ring with a gem of some sort in it. “This is a genuine shepherd's ring, described in Book Two of Plato's Republic. It was found by Gyges, a shepherd in the service of the king of Lydia. If I turn it so the stone is inside my hand, I become invisible."

  "I'd like to see that,” I told him, playing along.

  "Not now. Tomorrow midnight, when I kill Ralph Cedric."

  "Where'd you get the ring? Something like that must be valuable."

  "It was a gift,” was all he'd say.

  "Julius, suppose I bring Ralph Cedric over here in the morning, so the two of you can straighten this out like civilized people."

  "Bring him here and I'll kill him. Save me having to walk over there.” He emphasized his words by lifting a gnarled walking stick leaning against his bed.

  I glanced at Millie and saw that she was beyond dealing with him, her face frozen into a helpless mask. I dropped the subject and went about examining his cast and leg. “You're coming along pretty well,” I told him. “Another few weeks and the cast can come off."

  He raised his eyes to mine, and in that instant I had no doubt that he was mentally ill. If it was physically possible, he would indeed walk down that road tomorrow midnight and kill Ralph Cedric. “See my ring, Doc? Pretty, isn't it? Going to make me invisible."

  * * * *

  I stopped by the sheriff's office on my way back, giving my opinion. “The man's deranged, Sheriff. He may not be capable of making himself invisible, but he's certainly capable of bashing Cedric's head in if he gets close enough."

  Sheriff Lens grunted. “Doesn't really need to get close, does he? Every farmer on Chestnut Hill Road owns a hunting rifle. How far is it—about a hundred yards or so?—between the houses. He could sit in his bedroom window and pick off Ralph Cedric when he comes out the door."

  "His window's on the other side,” I pointed out.

  "He could crawl to the other side of the house, or limp over with his walking stick and rifle."

  "You can't arrest a man for making crazy threats, Sheriff, especially not if he's crazy to start with."

  "I'll have a deputy check the area tonight, in case he decides to go a day early."

  I nodded. “And I'll find some excuse to call on Cedric and his wife tomorrow. Whatever happens, Julius Finesaw isn't going to become invisible and kill anyone."

  * * * *

  The following morning was exceedingly mild for the eighth of December and I was beginning to wonder if we'd have a white Christmas. I parked in front of Ralph Cedric's house and rang the bell. His wife June came to the door and greeted me with a smile. She was a tall, attractive woman in her thirties, with only a few gray hairs showing among the waves of brown.

  "Dr. Hawthorne! What brings you to our doorstep? Are you giving free samples today?"

  "Afraid not, June. I'm helping your neighbor Finesaw with an insurance claim for his busted leg. I was thinking Ralph could give me some information about that tractor."

  June bristled a bit. “It wasn't the tractor caused that accident! Any sane person knows you don't run a tractor along the side of a hill that steep. The man is crazy."

  "Is Ralph around? I see his car's in the driveway."

  Ralph Cedric appeared from the kitchen holding a cup of coffee. He was a stocky bald man somewhat older than his wife. He'd been running Cedric Tractor Sales for the past ten years and doing pretty well until the war made new farm equipment almost as hard to come by as new cars. Still, farming was necessary to the war effort and he was in business on a limited scale, even though his main supplier was now building tanks. “You want me, Doc?"

  "Just what happened with that tractor and Finesaw's broken leg? I set it for him at the time but he was next to incoherent about how it happened. He seemed to blame the tractor you sold him."

  Cedric leaned against a bookcase, sipping his coffee. “I can't imagine how Millie stays married to him. That man's impossible. The tractor wasn't new, but it was the best I could get second-hand. I warned him that he should stay on relatively flat fields with it. He hadn't had it a week when he tried to plow the side of a hill. It's a wonder his leg was the only thing got broken."

  June interrupted then, taking up the battle. “He told Millie he was going to kill Ralph as soon as he could get over here. Said he could make himself invisible. Isn't that enough to get him committed?"

  "He hasn't done anything yet,” I pointed out. “But I've asked Sheriff Lens to keep an eye on the place."

  "What's this coming up the front walk?” Cedric asked, glancing out the window. “Is that Millie carrying a snowman?"

  It was indeed. Millie Finesaw was bearing down on us with a three-foot-tall snowman made of giant cotton balls with a carrot nose and coal for eyes, a corn-cob pipe and a little top hat. June greeted her at the door. “Millie—what have you done?"

  "I made this as a peace offering. There's no snow yet, but you can have a cotton snowman in your yard, or even in your living room if you want."

  June took it from her and invited her in. “This had to be a lot of work, Millie.” She placed it on the floor near the fireplace.

  "It was nothing. I love fiddling around with things like this. Takes my mind off—” She stopped short, with a pained expression we could all read.

  It was my job to ask the question, so I did. “How is Julius today?"

  "All right, sleeping mostly. I think those pain pills really numb the brain. He just hasn't been himself lately."

  I nodded. “It's best he sleep as much as possible. I have to be getting along now. I'll let you people visit."

  Somehow Millie's visit seemed to relieve the tension all around. I left them with a good feeling that, shepherd's ring or not, her husband was not about to transmogrify into an invisible murderer at midnight.

  * * * *

  Annabel and I had dinner that night at our favorite restaurant, Max's Steakhouse, so we could tell him our good news. We'd held our wedding reception there and Max Fortesque was like one of the family. “That's great news!” he told us, ordering a bottle of wine for our table. “It means one more customer."

  "Not for a few years,” Annabel told him with a smile.

  Sheriff Len
s came in then, perhaps hoping to find me there, and joined us at our table. “Vera and I are delighted about the baby,” he told her at once. “I guess I'm too old to be godfather but we'll love it like our own. Vera's already planning to knit some bootees."

  "Thanks, Sheriff."

  We invited him to join us and he agreed to a glass of wine. Annabel was careful to take only a few sips for herself. I told him about Millie's gift of a homemade snowman for the Cedrics and he agreed it sounded as if things were under control. “But I think I'll manage to be out on Chestnut Hill Road around midnight, just in case."

  "That's good,” Annabel agreed, “because Sam will be home in bed.” She said it with a smile, but I knew she meant it. She was never happy when I went chasing off after dark.

  Although I usually tried to be in bed by eleven, I found excuses that night to stay up later, near the telephone, even as my wife was calling to me from upstairs. “I'll be up in a few minutes,” I told her, knowing that Sheriff Lens would radio in to his office if anything happened.

  I was about to call it quits and go to bed when the phone rang. It was one of Lens's deputies. The sheriff had called for assistance at Ralph Cedric's home, and he wanted me there, too. I quickly explained the situation to my unhappy wife and slipped into a coat as I hurried to the car. On the deserted midnight roads it took me only ten minutes to reach Chestnut Hill Road and the flashing lights of three sheriff's cars.

  Sheriff Lens was waiting for me out front. Even in the dim light from the house windows I could see he was distraught. “Sheriff—"

  "It was Finesaw,” he told me. “I was watching the street all the time. He never crossed it, yet the next instant he was there by the front of the house. He smashed the door glass with his walking stick and unlocked the door. As soon as he was inside June ran out screaming and wailing. My God, Sam—"

  I followed him into the house. The destruction seemed to be everywhere. Even the cotton snowman had been trampled and pulled apart, a lamp broken, books pulled from their shelves, clothes scattered. Ralph Cedric lay in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor, his skull battered by Finesaw's gnarled walking stick, which lay at his side.

  "Is he still here?” I asked.

  The sheriff shook his head. “We've searched every inch of the house. I've got a couple of men watching Finesaw's place but we haven't gone in yet."

  I could hear sobbing from the dining room. “What about June?"

  "She's in bad shape, Doc. Maybe you could give her something."

  I went into the next room, where a deputy was trying to comfort her. “Is there any family we could call?” he was asking, but she only shook her head.

  "Give me a few minutes alone with her,” I told the deputy, then sat down at the table. “Tell me about it, June. How did it happen?"

  "He—he smashed in the door with his cane. Then he just started breaking everything."

  "It was Julius Finesaw?"

  She nodded. “He had a hooded jacket on but I knew him. He walked stiffly because of the cast on his leg. Ralph came running out of the kitchen. I told him to go back, but Finesaw was already on him with that cane. I ran to the door and started screaming. The sheriff came running but by that time it was too late. Ralph was dead."

  "And Finesaw?"

  "He was just ... gone."

  I turned back to Sheriff Lens. “What did you see?"

  "Like I said. All of a sudden he was on the front walk, heading for the door. When he smashed the glass I jumped out and ran toward the house. If I'd been parked a little closer I might have gotten here in time to save Ralph's life."

  "We'd better see about Finesaw,” I said grimly. “And Millie."

  I think we were both a bit fearful of what we would find at the Finesaw house, but after a couple of rings of the doorbell Millie appeared in her robe and slippers. “What is it?” she asked. “What's happened?"

  "Is Julius here?” Sheriff Lens asked, delaying an answer to her question.

  "Why ... I think he's sleeping. I gave him another pain pill."

  She led the way up to his room, and I noticed the sheriff surreptitiously slip the gun from his holster, holding it out of sight against his leg. She opened the door to her husband's room and turned on the light. He was lying there in bed, his cast-bound leg up on pillows, and his eyes opened at once. When he saw me he smiled and said, “I've done it just as I promised. I've killed Ralph Cedric."

  * * * *

  Impossible as it seemed, there was evidence to bear out his words. The gnarled walking stick that had leaned against his bed on my previous visit was now the blood-stained murder weapon in Ralph Cedric's kitchen. The slippers next to the bed showed traces of dirt on their bottoms, and a hooded jacket lay on the floor nearby.

  "Let me take your pulse,” I said, gripping his right wrist. It was racing a bit, though I couldn't attribute that to any recent physical activity. The sight of us invading his bedroom in the middle of the night might have accounted for it.

  "You weren't sleeping with him?” the sheriff asked Millie.

  "Not since the accident. With the cast and all I knew he'd be more comfortable with the entire bed. I've been using the extra room.” She took a deep breath. “Tell me what happened to Ralph Cedric."

  "He's dead, Millie. June and I both saw a figure that looked like Julius entering their house."

  I was more interested in hearing what Finesaw had to say. “Tell us how you did it,” I urged.

  His smile was sly as a tiger's, a mixture of pure evil and insanity. “Millie was in her room. When it got near midnight I got out of bed with my cane, put on my slippers and jacket, and made myself invisible."

  "Show us that,” I suggested, as I had the previous day.

  "No, no! I can't overuse the power."

  "How did you kill Cedric?” Sheriff Lens asked.

  "When I reached his door I became visible again. I wanted him to see who was killing him. I smashed the glass and opened the door, then swung my stick around at things. June was screaming. I felt sorry for her. Then Cedric appeared and I clubbed him with my stick."

  "You left it there,” I said. “How did you get back without it?"

  The sly smile again. “I don't need the stick when I'm invisible. My body has no weight and I can float."

  "If you admit to killing him, I'm going to have to arrest you,” the sheriff said.

  "Of course. I don't expect you'll be able to hold an invisible man in prison very long, though."

  "We'll see to that,” I said. Before he knew what was happening I gripped his wrist and pulled the shepherd's ring from his finger.

  "No!" he screamed, but it was already off.

  "Now you're just a human like the rest of us.” I handed the ring to Sheriff Lens. “Keep this in a safe place."

  Finesaw was thrashing in the bed. “Millie!” he shouted. “They've taken the ring!"

  She stood in the doorway shaking her head, close to tears. “We'll have to take him away,” the sheriff told her. “I'm sorry."

  He called for an ambulance and stretcher, and when Finesaw tried to resist I had to sedate him. There was no doubt that the man was mentally incompetent, but that still didn't explain—in a rational world—how he'd killed Ralph Cedric.

  * * * *

  Finesaw was hospitalized under guard, and a grand jury quickly indicted him for murder. In his testimony Sheriff Lens admitted he might not have seen the man approaching the house because the light was poor. “What else could I say, Doc?” he told me later. “They'd never buy an invisible man. Finesaw admits to the killing and has even described how he did it. Except for the invisibility part it makes perfect sense."

  "Except for the invisibility part. Don't you see, Sheriff, that's the most important element."

  "There are no streetlights on Chestnut Hill Road. Maybe I didn't see Finesaw until he was in the light from Cedric's house."

  I shook my head. “Even without the invisibility I doubt Finesaw could have hobbled over a hundred yards with
his cane. He certainly couldn't have gotten back to his bed without the cane."

  "What other possibility is there?” he asked.

  "Cedric's wife."

  "June? That couldn't be. She ran out screaming before I even reached the house. There was no time for her to have done it. Besides, if she killed her husband how could Julius know exactly what happened?"

  "You're right,” I admitted, but I still didn't like it.

  The case dragged on through the Christmas holidays and into January. The war news was mainly about the Russian advances, recapturing much of the land Hitler's legions had overrun the previous year. With the war and Annabel's pregnancy always in my thoughts, I had little time for Julius Finesaw's situation.

  That was why the phone call from Millie in mid January came as a surprise.

  "Dr. Hawthorne? This is Millie Finesaw. I've engaged a lawyer from Shinn Corners to defend my husband and he needs to speak to you. I was wondering if you could meet with us one day this week."

  I glanced at my appointment calendar. “I have some free time tomorrow afternoon, around two. How would that be?"

  "Fine. At your office?"

  "I'll be expecting you."

  They arrived right on time, Millie wearing a fur jacket against the winter winds and Terrance Mellnap dressed in a ski parka and boots. He shook hands and gave me his card. “We've got more snow in Shinn Corners than you have,” he said, perhaps as an excuse for his foul-weather gear. Then he added, “It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hawthorne. I've heard a great deal about you over the years."

  "All good, I hope."

  "Certainly.” He opened his briefcase. “There's a preliminary hearing next week. Naturally we'll be pleading not guilty by reason of insanity."