Murder Mysteries # 4

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  "My heavens where could it be. I don’t remember the last time I saw it. About once a month he cleans it. Yes, about a month ago he was at the kitchen table making a mess as usual."

  "Do you always lock your doors, Shelly," asked Stacy.

  "No and I know I should, but I still can drive well. I go around and come back. I do lock the doors at night though."

  "Do you have a housekeeper or gardener come in," asked Stacy.

  "I've a house keeper come in twice a week. A lawn service takes care of the yard. They never come in. My housekeeper is Mrs. Albright. Her husband Kevin runs the post office.

  "How long has she worked for you," asked Stacy.

  "More than ten years now. She wouldn't steal anything; particularly a gun," said Shelly.

  "Visitors Shelly. Have you had any recent visitors in your house?"

  "Let me thing a minute," as she puts on finger to her lips, looks at the wall instead of the ceiling for an answer. "Just Suzy and Maria in the last week or so."

  "What did Maria have to say, or was she just along for the ride with Suzy?"

  "We talked about the upcoming trip to the ocean. It's a great time for us seniors to get out and go somewhere besides a shopping center or supermarket. We all looked forward to that upcoming day."

  "Now please think hard Shelly, say within the last month or so, has there been anyone in your house that might have had the opportunity to enter your bedroom either with you or without," asked Stacy

  "Aside from my housekeeper—well—you know—I do remember Suzy and I went to our bedroom one time. I was considering new curtains. Also last week when Suzy and Maria came we went into my bedroom to talk some more about curtains. The phone rang and I ran to the kitchen to answer it. Suzy and Maria followed me to the kitchen."

  "Okay, let's take a break until after lunch Shelly. You need a cup of tea or something like that," said Stacy.

  Ben and May

  "Ms Rooter my name is Detective Ben Razor. I need to ask you a few questions concerning last Saturday's trip to the Visitors Center. Let's begin by getting right to the crux of the issue facing us. What was your relationship with the deceased Harry Longer?"

  "We weren't on speaking terms. I've hated that man for a quarter century. By now he's having a BBQ with the Devil himself. Like you said detective, I'll cut to the chase. Harry Langer was responsible for my dear husband's suicide almost twenty-five years ago. We had a nice place on the river. For many years we lived here in this town totally satisfied. My husband was a logger and that was the only life he knew. In the 1980's the environmentalists shut down the logging all over Oregon. They used the Spotted Owl as a reason to ban logging all over the Pacific Northwest and even on down into California. My husband lost his job and with it any future chance for employment.

  He was still young at just over forty, but he'd never even finished high school. He wasn't the smartest kid on the block, but he was the hardest working guy you'd ever known. He got a few odd jobs here and there, but we slowly started falling behind on our house payments. We'd refinanced to put our two kids in college. Well, long story short, banker Harry foreclosed and my husband hung himself from the tree in our back yard."

  "From others we heard you came by just a few minutes after Ms Langer and Suzy discovered the body. Did you by chance hear a loud pop while you were walking," asked Ben.

  "Nope didn't hear a thing."

  "You were coming up the trail back to the Visitors Center, is that right," asked Ben.

  "Yes, I'd had enough walking for one day. I'm not as agile and trim as I once was," said a haughty Ms. Rooter.

  "Did you meet anyone coming down the hill while you were going up," asked Ben.

  "No, no one was coming down the hill. When I was almost to the highway going up, Maria came up behind me. She told me it was getting too cold and she'd turned around came back. That's all the people I saw detective."

  "Do own a hand gun Ms. Rooter," asked Ben who was watching for any indication of an untruth.

  "As a matter of fact I do. I carry it with me wherever I go. I've a permit too. I'll show it to you." May Rooter had a bag the size too big for carry on in a commercial airline. Ben watched as rummaged through the bag muttering to herself about where the hell the gun was. Finally she upended the bag onto the top of the card table. Ben just managed to remove his legal pad in time as the contents spilled out covering most of the table.

  "I don't see any gun Ms. Rooter," said Ben quickly scanning the contents scattered across the table.

  "That's funny, I know I had it with me last Saturday. I was worried that maybe the Visitors Center had a metal detector. That would have been embarrassing. It's gone. The only answer is detective, somebody stole it," said May.

  "Or you used the gun to kill Harry Langer and then tossed it away in the heavy undergrowth of the area," said a stoic Ben Razor.

  "I never killed him, but have wished him dead many times. I tell you somebody took it," said a vocal May Rooter making some head turn her direction.

  "What was the name and caliber of the handgun," asked a calm Ben.

  "It was a 32 caliber HK. Silas got it when things got really tight back in the early eighties. Many times I thought about pawning it, but I could hear his words: "Keep this always in your bag" and I did; until now."

  A Lunch to Die On

  For those who could manage, it was holding the tray as you passed by a smiling cook. Others sat and waited with eager eyes and hands in laps. Stacy kept saying a small amount please. Rory smiled as the guy heaped a mountain of instant mashed potatoes aboard his plate. Ben and Dan were regular eaters. Cathy had a regular size and sat with Maria. It appeared the two of them were buddy buddy. Stacy smiled as she thought Cathy was trolling her tasty worm to catch a fish.

  After sitting down and a few bites taken, all but Rory looked at each other. For Stacy this meatloaf was the worst she'd ever eaten. Apparently Ben and Dan agreed as they struggled to eat the instant potatoes and canned green beans. Rory, on the other hand, wolfed it down like a hungry soldier on a battlefield after a two-day skirmish.

  Stacy looked at the seniors who appeared to clean their plates. Stacy had no idea what to do with her mostly uneaten lunch. Ben, bless his heart, settled the matter as he took her plate and with, what seemed, practiced movement, scrapped the remainder into a large garbage can next to the dishwasher. Dan forced it down and made his deposit behind Ben. Rory looked around, like in the past, for seconds.

  Stacy had tea and the men had coffee. Maria had some announcements and then said, "Due to the interviews today, we're cancelling our regular pinochle and checker games. Tomorrow we'll be back on our regular schedule with afternoon exercise and knitting classes."

  While the delicious lunch was being digested, the investigative team was chatting amongst themselves. Ben had brought up the missing 32 caliber of May Rooter. Stacy asked Ben how he saw her react when she couldn't find her hand gun. "I think she was genuinely shocked. Either that she's one great actress and I don’t' see that being on her résumé."

  "Well we have two missing small caliber hand guns. One from the victim's house and now one from a suspect. What else of note do we have?

  "We've the two friends, Amos and Ralph who in the area at the time of the murder," said Rory.

  "Also, we've an unusual incident. According to May when she was hiking back to the Center, Maria Topaz came up behind her. Maria told her she decided not to go hiking as it was getting cold. I wonder if that trail loops around. If not, how did Maria get behind May," asked Ben.

  "We should ask her. It's possible there's a short cut and maybe she has been there before," said Rory.

  "Okay, make a note of that Em and if May saw Ralph and Amos earlier walking down the hill, and let me see," as she scanned Ben's notes, "here we go. The two Riggins were also seen coming down the trail. If that's the case, all of them, Ralph, Amos, two Riggins and May were in the vicinity at the time of the murder. We can throw in Maria as well.

&nbs
p; Additionally we've two handguns missing. Let's not forget the bank manager Stanly is also on our suspect list. I must point out guys that there very could be a sleeper suspect who committed the crime. I think we need to search deeper into the towns seniors or any other citizens with a grudge," said Stacy.

  Cathy said, "From talking to Maria, our main suspects aren’t the only citizens who had a deep dislike for Harry Langer. Everyone in town knew this Saturday trip was taking place. Like in the old westerns, someone could lie in wait and bushwhack old Harry."

  "Let's give this group of suspects a rest and walk around town talking to any and everyone we come across. Especially the Post Office dude, Kevin Albright and his wife Anita."

  Stacy took Dan off to the side and said, "Dan go to the Visitors Center and hawk that trail for a short cut or an old path. What we need to find out, if it's true, how Maria suddenly appeared behind May. If she had been hiding, why didn't she just wait until May passed by and then walk up to the Center? One more thing, everybody has to sign in so look back a month or so and see if any names from our seniors or from the community show up."

  Dan was tickled pink that he'd an assignment to do. Sitting around at this smelly old place was depressing. He hurried out the door and was headed westbound in less than two minutes.

  Cathy went to help Maria and do some more snooping around. Ben and Rory were standing next to Stacy awaiting instructions. "I think Tall Man, you and I will hit the bricks while Ben stays here. Ben, I see a man and his wife, nicely dressed, sitting down towards the end of the tables. He looks like somebody who sees and hears what's going on here in town. Go have a chat with him and any others you might seem likely to shed some light on a very dark case."

  "Yes, I noticed him too. Some folks want to visit, but are afraid to put their foot forward first. I'd best hurry as most will leave shortly, I think. I'm also thinking maybe Ralph and Amos will shoot a little pool. Those two guys have the inside track of this community."

  Before they left, Stacy went up to Shelly and said, "Excuse me Shelly, we're going around town and get a feel for place. I'd like to stop by later this afternoon and have a chat. Would you be home later?"

  "Yes, and Anita my housekeeper will be there too. I'll put on some tea water for you. Your friend Cathy told me you like tea and not coffee. Okay then, see you later."

  A Walk About

  From the Senior Center, going east the first business enterprise was a small market. At one time it looked like a going concern with a mechanics garage attached with fuel pumps next to the road. Now the garage was filled with an old pickup truck and the cement island is all that’s left of the fuel pumps. However, inside the store was spacious and was stocked fairly well with things families might need. When they walked through the door, the bells jangled announcing a customer to the clerk or clerks. In this case it was the owner, an Oregonian born here, raised here, he told them smiling with a gap in his two front teeth.

  After the intro Stacy asked, "Obviously you know why we're here Mr. Blake. We've interviewed the seniors who were on the outing. But now we need to see what other citizens of this community might think about who was capable of using a pistol to shoot Harry Langer."

  Ted Blake had been watching Stacy closely. He was still grinning but his eyes were serious not happy. He shuffled from foot to foot behind the counter. He reached for a pen in his pocket and then put it back. Rory wondered what the guy was doing, but shrugged it off as eccentric. "Well, this isn't easy to talk about. The citizens outside my door are my customers and friends. We do get a few tourists stopping by, but my bread and butter come from this small community. I also know most here go to Corvallis to Walmart shopping. Therefore, I'll tell you who and why I think could possibly be your killer.

  Jason Bernard is a retired former sawmill owner. He and his brother made a lot of money up until around 1980. Before that time Jason and Harry were like two peas in a pod. They were the best of friends. Harry granted whatever loans Jason wanted. Jason saw the end coming and wanted to downsize to fit the timber supply and to modernize the equipment. When he went to Harry for help in financing, Harry told him it was too risky. Jason, I'm told, by old friends, stomped out swearing a blue streak swearing revenge to Harry someday.

  Long story short, Brother Frank accidentally fell out the second story opening while the mill was being dismantled. He died from a broken neck. Witnesses say he walked backwards on purpose. Jason went to pieces after that. He took what was left and pretty much became a recluse. The only one that I know of that visits him is May Rooter and Maria Topaz takes made up senior dinners to him. He does stop by here on a rare occasion. He gets around good for his age. He drives his thirty-year-old pickup truck. I'll add he's a cranky old timer. I wish you luck if you visit him. Come back again soon. I'll think on it some more." The bells jangled and the smile came back, but the eyes remained way too serious.

  "What you think about that Detective Caltex," asked Stacy.

  "I'd say we need some more beef with us. Dan would be a good addition to our upcoming interview with the lumber baron. You know Super, standing here next to the highway, going back in time, logging trucks by the dozens went by here going to manufacturing sawmills to build houses with the final product. Did you know that at one time there were over seventy sawmills or wood manufacturing places in the Eugene area alone? Amazing if you ask me; which nobody's asking me."

  "Since we've been standing here, two cars have gone by. If you're looking for quiet, come here," said Stacy turning to walk down to the post office.

  Postmaster Albright

  Like the small market, bells rang to alert the postal clerk the rush was on. As it turned out, Postmaster Kevin Albright came out from the back without a smile. He didn't need to smile. He wasn't there to sell much of anything. He looked blankly at the couple standing in front of him. Stacy reached for her Marshall's shield and Rory the same with his gold detective shield. Stacy saw one eyebrow rise up. Then he said, "How can I be of assistance?"

  Rory told him why they were here and they needed to ask some questions about the homicide of Harry Langer. Stacy saw him nodding and Stacy asked, "What was your relationship with Harry Langer Mr. Albright?"

  "It was of the poorest nature," he said with a scratchy high pitch voice. "He sometimes come in here demanding service regardless if there were other customers or not. Most of the townspeople were scared of him; but not me. I'd tell him to wait his turn. He'd tell me he'd call my regional boss. I told him go ahead as I've witnesses here who back me up. Most of the time, the other customers would motion him forward, so they could return to being normal."

  "How is it then Mr. Albright that your wife works for Shelly Langer," asked Rory.

  "That's her business, not mine. I guess I'll be frank with you. You'll discover it anyway. About fifteen years ago, when he'd been not long in the wheel chair, he came in one time struggling, but made it to the counter. I asked him what he wanted. He told me some stamps. Then he told me that I'd a nice wife. That got my attention mind you. He told me how helpful she was empting his urine bag and inserting the catheter. He smiled when he went on to say she sure could make it stand up. I came around the counter ready to pound his head. He said, holding up his hand, 'Touch me and you'll never work again anywhere.' It was then a customer, Maria Topaz came in and she heard me say: "I make you pay someday you filthy bastard." And that is my story."

  "Well, did you make him pay," asked Stacy.

  "Nope, Saturday I was home working in my flower beds preparing for winter. My wife was in Corvallis shopping. I guess I don't really have an alibi," said Kevin Albright.

  "From your observation and from what you've heard, how did you see your wife's relationship with the Langer's," asked Stacy.

  "If you ask it that way it doesn't leave me much choice but to express my opinion. My wife is an easygoing person. She makes friends easily and Shelly Langer is a good friend of hers. My wife says nothing about Harry. She told me he's usually in his office watchin
g TV or writing letters. She cleans his office when he takes his morning bath. From what she's said, she rarely sees him and even more rarely speaks to him. After about twenty years, she's a pro at dodging him. I don't know if she likes or dislikes him. She's never said a word to me about that."

  "Do you own a hand gun Mr. Albright," asked Rory.

  "No I don't. I see no use for any weapon at any time," Albright said with a screeching high voice.

  Cruising the Street

  Outside on the highway again, Stacy and Rory looked around wondering what to do next. "I see a fix-it shop across the highway Super. Let's go check it out," said Rory.

  "Why not. Pretty soon the whole community will become our suspects," said Stacy looking both ways and then walking across not having to worry about traffic.

  A sign over the door hung by one screw at a vertical angle. The old sign simply said: "Paul's Place" The door was propped open with a short handle shovel under the doorknob. To enter the store, one had to use a side step maneuver due to the narrow walkway to the back of the store. In the back they heard a hammer doing its job. They followed the sound. Through a doorway a large room with a workbench against the wall was totally covered in used appliances. In the middle of the workbench an old man sat on a stool with a jewelers light beaming down on a project. He was bent over with a magnifying glass examining the bottom of some electrical appliance. Stacy could hear him talking to himself. He was oblivious of any person having come in.

  So as not to scare him, Stacy nodded to Rory. "Excuse me are you Paul," asked a voice of authority. Paul raised his head, but didn't turn around.

  "That's me, and if you've a need for something fixed, find some paper and pencil and tape it to the item. I'm a little busy this week so come back next week and let's see what happens."