Puzzled to Death

by Parnell Hall

  Marty Haskel, primed for an angry retort, tripped instead on the change of subject. “Billy Pickens? What are you talking about, Pickens? Who said anything about Pickens?”

  “Wasn’t he there?” Cora asked serenely.

  “If he was, it’s the first I knew of it.” Marty Haskel shook his head. “I can’t follow what you’re talking about, lady. You’re scatterbrained.”

  Before Cora could defend her logic, there came the sound of a car approaching fast. Brakes squealed, and Chief Harper’s police cruiser fishtailed into the service station and rocked to a stop. The chief jumped out, strode over to the garage, and slammed open the door. If possible, he looked less pleased to see Cora than Marty Haskel had.

  “Miss Felton, I’d like a word with you.”

  “That would be fine, Chief,” Cora said meekly. “I’m just having a word with Marty here. And he’s telling me some fascinating things about meeting Paul Thornhill last fall. In the Rainbow Room after Harvey’s little cookout.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Chief Harper said sourly. “Marty, I’m sorry if you’ve been bothered. I should point out that just because Miss Felton came along with me last night, she’s not making her own independent investigation, and you have no need to answer her questions.” He stared Cora Felton down. “As I’m sure she is aware.”

  “Oh, absolutely, Chief,” Cora said blithely. “And I’m certainly glad you’re here in your official capacity. Seeing as how Marty has already admitted to meeting Thornhill last fall, losing to him at pool, and being informed who he was by Judy Vale, who happened to be looking on that night, I’d suggest you try some questions of your own. In particular, I’d ask Marty where his crossword puzzle is.”

  Chief Harper glowered at her.

  “Because,” Cora went on, unabashed, “he admittedly had a thing against Paul Thornhill, so he might have kept a copy of his puzzle, if only to mock it.”

  Chief Harper turned from Cora to Marty Haskel. “You got that puzzle, Marty?”

  Marty Haskel shivered. “You wanna shut that door?”

  “Sorry,” Chief Harper said. He stepped inside, closed the garage door. “You got that puzzle?” he repeated.

  “What if I do?”

  “Frankly, Marty, I’m just trying to judge how batty Miss Felton’s ideas are. You keep that puzzle ’cause you hated Thornhill?”

  “I didn’t say I kept the puzzle.”

  “No, but you did, didn’t you? Marty, I wanna help you, so humor me. Did you take a copy of Paul Thornhill’s puzzle home?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Did you do it? Did you fill it in?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I looked at it, saw it was simple. No challenge, not worth my time.”

  “Couldn’t you tell that before you brought it home?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So why’d you bring it home?”

  “You’re missing the point, Chief,” Cora intervened. “That’s why he brought it home. To gloat over Paul Thornhill’s simple, stupid puzzle.”

  Chief Harper frowned. “Marty, you’re telling me you’ve got a copy of Paul Thornhill’s puzzle, unfilled-in, at home?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “I want it.”

  Marty blinked. “Huh?”

  “I need that puzzle. Let’s go get it.”

  “You gotta be kidding.”

  “I’m not. Come on, Marty. Let’s go.”

  “In the middle of a transmission job?” Marty Haskel held out his hands. “I mean, look at me.”

  “Go wash up, Marty. I’ll wait for you. I’m sorry, but we’re going now.”

  Marty Haskel stared at Chief Harper in disbelief. Then he turned and stomped off to the sink in the back of the garage.

  Cora Felton pulled Chief Harper outside. Sherry followed, closing the garage door.

  “All right, what’s the story?” Cora hissed, with a quick glance to make sure Marty Haskel was out of earshot. “What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here? That’s a laugh. As if you didn’t send Judy Vale’s neighbor to the police station to see me.”

  “Oh, she went?”

  “You’re so surprised? Charlotte Drake says you practically drove her there yourself. Though, the way I understand it, you wouldn’t have had time to give her the ride. You’ve been pretty busy.”

  “I happen to be chasing down a very good lead. You hear what I just said about the Rainbow Room?”

  “Yes, I did, and I got your broad hints too, and I will be checking out whether Marty Haskel still has his puzzle.” Chief Harper squinted at her suspiciously. “What made you think he had a puzzle in the first place?”

  “Just a lucky guess,” Cora said. “After all, the guy’s obsessed with Thornhill. Anyway, if he can’t find his puzzle, it’ll be extremely incriminating.”

  “Sure,” Chief Harper said. “I’ll suspect him of being a total moron if he had a puzzle, left it on Paul Thornhill’s body, and then admitted having it in the first place. You mind telling me how that makes any sense?”

  “He was stunned by the question about the puzzle. He didn’t expect it. He wouldn’t be the first perp to blurt out something wrong.”

  “I’ll check it out,” Chief Harper said. “But I don’t think it matters.”

  “Why not?” Sherry cut in. “Come on, Chief. This is the way you two always talk at cross-purposes, when you’re holding something back. Why don’t you like Marty Haskel for it? What new evidence have you got?”

  Chief Harper looked at Sherry, shrugged. “Okay, you got me. I’m not keen on Marty as a killer because other people look better.”

  “What other people?” Sherry asked.

  “I don’t know, because I haven’t sorted it out yet, but I got a lot of new faces. Sara Pickens kills Judy Vale for stealing her husband. Sara kills the other two to cover it up. Jessica Thornhill kills Judy Vale for stealing her husband. She strangles Mrs. Roth to cover that up, then kills Thornhill in a fit of rage. Or Charlotte Drake, insanely jealous of Judy Vale, does her in. Does in Mrs. Roth to cover it up, then bumps off Paul Thornhill to help her boyfriend Doowacker.”

  “My,” Cora said placidly. “The only thing I can agree with is your comment about not having thought it out yet, Chief. With so much illogic flying around, it’s hard to pick any one thing, but hadn’t you decided your killer couldn’t be a woman because Thornhill was too strong for a woman to kill?”

  “Not anymore.” Chief Harper grimaced. “But I don’t want this in the paper.” He leveled his finger at Sherry. “If I tell you, you promise not to tell Aaron?”

  “Don’t worry,” Cora said. “They’re barely speaking.” Before Sherry could retort, Cora said, “Spill it, Chief. What have you got?”

  Chief Harper lowered his voice. “Autopsy report came in. Thornhill was strangled, like we thought. Only there was a contributing injury. Blow to the back of the head. He was knocked out, then strangled.”

  “Knocked out first,” Cora mused. “That’s very interesting.”

  “It puts a whole new spin on the crime and means even the women could have done it. So suddenly the suspects have doubled. Which is all I need.”

  “Tell me something, Chief. These crazy scenarios you just gave me. For Jessica, Charlotte, and Sara Pickens. You got anything to back them up?”

  “Actually, I do. And I like it because it’s the opposite of what you think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “About the crossword puzzle found on the body. You’re obsessing about Marty Haskel. And whether he still has his puzzle. Well, guess what? Paul Thornhill’s car was left parked just up the road from your house. It was unlocked. And there was a briefcase on the front seat full of crossword puzzles. Just like the one on the body. So if Jessica Thornhill, say, wants to leave a puzzle, it’s right there in the car.”

  Cora frowned. “And why does she leave the puzzle?”

  “Why does anyone leave th
e puzzle?”

  “I don’t know. But if you figure the killer left all three puzzles, that would tend to indicate someone local. Not Jessica Thornhill.”

  “Right,” Chief Harper said. “So what local person do you like for these crimes? Besides Marty Haskel, I mean. You gonna accuse the neighbor, Charlotte Drake? You’ve certainly done enough already to mess up her life.”

  “No way!” Cora protested. “I helped her out. I sent her to the cops before they came looking for her.”

  “Yeah, well, then you didn’t think it through,” Chief Harper said. “Not with news crews all over town. She walks out of the police station and there’s Rick Reed shovin’ a microphone in her face and askin’ her what she’s doin’ there. All she said was no comment, but I’ll bet you tongues will wag when that appears on the evening news. So I wouldn’t count on bein’ in the young lady’s good graces.”

  “Oh, hell,” Cora said. She heaved a sigh, thought a moment. “Okay, you were saying about the crossword puzzles found in Thornhill’s car. I want one.”

  “Why?”

  “I think we’re missing a bet. The crossword puzzle on the body might be a clue.”

  “But there was nothing written on the crossword puzzle.”

  “So maybe the clue’s the crossword puzzle itself. After all, Paul Thornhill wrote it.”

  Chief Harper looked at her incredulously. “Now you’re telling me Paul Thornhill left behind a crossword puzzle, telling you who killed him? That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

  “Maybe so, Chief. But I want a copy of that puzzle.”

  “Okay. Hang on a minute.”

  Chief Harper fetched a puzzle from his cruiser, handed it over.

  “You got ’em in your car?” Cora said. “Better make sure Marty Haskel doesn’t get his hands on one on the way to his house.”

  “He’ll be taking his truck. So I don’t have to drive him back. Anyway, there’s your puzzle. You wanna look at it and tell me who killed Paul Thornhill?”

  “Not right now, Chief. But thanks all the same.”

  “You mean you can’t tell me anything from this puzzle?” Chief Harper said ironically.

  “Maybe not, Chief,” Cora said. “But let me know if Marty Haskel has one.”

  “WHAT ARE YOU UP TO?” SHERRY ASKED AS CORA PULLED out of the service station.

  “Can you do that crossword puzzle for me?”

  “Of course I can. Why?”

  “I wanna study it for a clue.”

  “Cora.”

  “Or at least I wanna claim that’s what I’m doing.”

  “You wanna bluff someone?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Cora.”

  “Well, everyone but you.”

  “I’m going to strangle you. Which is the wrong thing to say, under the circumstances, come to think of it. Cora, stop being enigmatic and tell me what’s up.”

  Cora piloted the car around an S curve in the road. “I feel terrible for Charlotte. I was stupid, I didn’t think, I really messed things up for her. I gotta try to make it right. Maybe I can, maybe I can’t. Still, I gotta give it a shot.”

  “Cora. The woman is no saint. She was running around on her husband. It’s not the end of the world if she gets caught.”

  “It is if it’s my fault. I gave her advice. She acted on it. It was bad advice, and now she’s in the soup. She’s dorked because of me. If I couldn’t give her good advice, I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “Cora, have you lost sight of the fact there’s a killer at large?”

  “Not at all. It’s all tied up together.” Cora grinned, gunned the motor. “I feel like the hero in some sci-fi movie. I’ve got till tomorrow to save the world, trap the killer, clear Billy Pickens of three homicide charges, save Charlotte Drake from the media, and wriggle out of Harvey Beerbaum’s insidious little puzzle-commentary trap. Hell, maybe I can patch up you and Aaron too while I’m at it.”

  “Aunt Cora.”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t joke about that. He’s a rotten, no-good scum. You’re just lucky you found out before you married him. I always found out after.”

  “Cora, that’s not funny.”

  “It isn’t when your husband’s Melvin, that’s for sure. You know he wanted alimony from me? Can you imagine that—a property settlement where your fourth husband winds up paying money to your fifth? Or was it my third husband?” Cora frowned.

  “Where are we going?” Sherry said, trying to change the subject.

  “Downtown. We need to check in with the media.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “I thought I’d have a little talk with Mr. Channel 8.”

  “Rick Reed? How come?”

  “Because I don’t want him running that footage of Charlotte.”

  “Think you could talk him out of it?”

  “Not a prayer.”

  “Planning on bribing him?”

  “I can’t bribe him. I got nothing he wants.”

  Sherry’s eyes widened. “No! I’m not!”

  “You’re not what?”

  “I’m not having dinner with Rick Reed.”

  “I never said you were.”

  “No, but that’s your scheme. The jerk’s always had the hots for me. I make a play for him, and he kills the footage. Ordinarily I’d never do it, but you figure I’m fighting with Aaron on the one hand and I’d love to ace Becky Baldwin out on the other. Is that how you see it?”

  “Not at all. But it’s certainly an idea. I wonder how you came up with it.”

  “Oh, you do, do you? You wanna look me in the eye and tell me you weren’t planning on my help?”

  “If I did I might drive off the road,” Cora replied. “Besides, I do need your help. I need you to fill in Thornhill’s puzzle for me.”

  “Right,” Sherry said. “And what are you going to do with that?”

  “I’m going to trap a killer.”

  “THAT’S RIGHT,” CORA FELTON SAID. “I’VE UNCOVERED the clue that cracks the case.”

  Rick Reed was at his insinuating best. “And yet you won’t tell us who it is?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  “Because you promised Chief Harper?”

  “Actually, I haven’t spoken to Chief Harper.”

  “Miss Felton, are you telling me you know who the killer is, but you haven’t told the police?”

  “I have no proof. It would be unfair to accuse someone when I have no proof.”

  “In other words, you don’t know who the killer is.”

  “Oh, but I do. And I expect to get proof. It’s just a matter of time. Unfortunately, there is no time, on account of the tournament. After the tournament tomorrow, the witnesses will all be scattered to the four winds, and it will become impossible to prove who committed these crimes. Tomorrow morning at ten A.M. the seventh puzzle will be given out. It is a forty-minute puzzle. After that, the scores will be tallied and the three finalists will be chosen. Then they’ll compete in solving the last puzzle in front of everyone, working on three giant grids.

  “But before that happens, while the scores are still being tallied, I will take the microphone and tell everyone who the killer is.”

  “I thought you had no proof.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why are you making this announcement?”

  “As a warning to the killer. That if the killer shows up tomorrow morning, he or she will be caught.”

  “Why do you say he or she? I thought you said you knew who the killer was.”

  “I do. I don’t want you to know.” Cora Felton looked directly into the camera. Her benign face filled the screen. “Last warning. I know who you are. I know what you did. Tomorrow I’m going to get you.”

  “There you have it,” Rick Reed told the camera. “The Puzzle Lady, Cora Felton, issuing a challenge, daring a killer to show up. Does she have the goods, or is she jus
t blowing smoke? We’ll find out tomorrow morning, at town hall, at the conclusion of the seventh puzzle. You can bet most of Bakerhaven will be there, and Channel 8 will be there to bring it to you live. From Bakerhaven, this is Rick Reed, Channel 8 News.”

  Cora Felton scooped up the remote control from the coffee table and put the TV on mute. “Well,” she said. “What do you think?”

  “Not bad,” Sherry said. “I can hardly tell you’re bluffing. And I happen to know you haven’t got a thing.”

  “Think we’ll get some action?” Cora said.

  “You can bet on it,” Sherry said. “It’s nights like this I wish Aaron had his own place so I didn’t have to stay here.”

  “Oh, sure. Like you’d really run out on me. Nights like this are not why you wish he had his own place.”

  “Don’t start with me,” Sherry said.

  “You’re the one who brought up the subject.”

  “The subject was getting the hell out of here,” Sherry pointed out. “I’d say we should check into a motel, if they weren’t all booked solid.”

  “That would defeat the whole purpose.”

  “What whole purpose? Don’t bluff me, Cora. You only gave that interview so they wouldn’t run the footage of Charlotte coming out of the police station.”

  “You don’t think I’m trying to trap a killer?”

  “Oh, sure. But not because you know who it is. Because you haven’t the faintest idea who it is, and you’re desperate.”

  “Thanks for your support,” Cora said dryly.

  The phone rang. Sherry got up, padded into the kitchen, answered it. “Hello?”

  “Get her on the phone!” Chief Harper’s roar was so loud Cora could hear him in the living room. “Get her on the phone! Now!”

  Cora came through the kitchen door, took the phone from Sherry. “Hi, Chief. How’s it hangin’?”

  “Are you crazy? Are you nuts?” Chief Harper bellowed. “Go on television, say you know who did it! I can’t believe you did that!”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? I’ll tell you why not. Because it’s either the truth or it’s a colossal lie. If it’s a lie, you got no business sayin’ it, and if it’s the truth, you should have brought it to me.”