by Parnell Hall
“Except the other one did.”
“We’re not even sure of that.”
“It yielded the license plate number of the car that was following you,” Crowley pointed out.
“Which is bizarre, but not conclusive.”
“Well, maybe this one is. Solve it and let’s see.”
“You didn’t solve it?”
“No.”
“You solved the other one.”
“Someone solved it for me.”
“Why didn’t they solve this one?” Cora said.
“I waited for you.”
“Weren’t you curious?”
“Maybe I wanted to see your face as the answer was revealed.”
“Study me for signs of guilt?”
“It’s a thought,” Crowley said.
“It’s a stupid thought.”
“Maybe,” Crowley said. “But this is a case where I’m looking for someone who makes up crossword puzzles. You’re the Puzzle Lady. You make a living making up crossword puzzles. Maybe you make up a set of puzzles that yield a phony license plate number. Maybe before the puzzles are solved, you tell me a car with that license plate number is following you. Then the puzzles are solved, and low and behold, it yields that exact number. Proof positive the killer is following you. Which means, of course, you’re not the killer. That’s why you wouldn’t solve the puzzle for me and insisted I get someone else to solve it. So you’d have time to ‘discover’ you were being followed.”
“That is so devious and convoluted,” Cora said.
“My point exactly. But that’s not going to happen this time. This time I want you solving the crossword puzzle right here, in my presence. If you created this puzzle, I think I’ll be able to tell. You won’t be able to solve it the way you normally would, because you’ll know all the answers in advance.”
Crowley reached in his desk drawer. “So. Here’s a copy. Here’s a pencil. Prove me wrong.”
“I don’t think so,” Cora said. She stood up.
Crowley stopped her with a gesture. “Not this time. Now that your weapon hasn’t cleared, you can either be the cooperating witness to whom I’m extending every courtesy, or you can call your lawyer and we’ll take you down and arraign you for murder, and if Blondie’s as good as she’s cracked up to be, maybe she gets you bail. But maybe not. And this whole spirit of cooperation is off the table.”
Crowley shrugged. “You have no options here. You can sit down and solve the puzzle, or you can tell it to the judge.”
Cora sat back down. Heaved a huge sigh. “Aw, hell.”
She cocked her head. “Buy me lunch?”
Chapter
21
“You’re a total fraud?”
“Whoa, that’s a little harsh,” Cora said. At least that’s what she intended to say. Her mouth was full of cheeseburger.
Crowley waved his cheeseburger in the air. Grease splattered on his shirt. He took no notice. “You’re the Puzzle Lady and you can’t do puzzles?”
Cora swallowed the bite, said, “You make it sound like a crime.”
“Actually, fraud is a crime. Don’t you sell breakfast cereal to children?”
“I don’t claim it will help them solve puzzles.”
“Well, that will be something for the lawyers to sort out. After the parents file suit against the cereal company, and the company turns around and countersues you for defrauding them.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not going to tell them.”
“What makes you think I won’t?”
“I told you that in confidence.”
“You can’t confess to a felony and tell me it’s in confidence.”
“You were talking about a civil suit. Suddenly it’s a felony.”
“I’m not on the bunko squad. I’m with homicide.”
“Exactly. It’s none of your business.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What’s legally binding? What you meant, or what you said?”
“Legally binding? We’re just talking here.”
“Exactly,” Cora said. “We’re not taking something someone said and quoting it out of context and threatening them with legal action.”
“What’s out of context? You said you were a fraud. I said defrauding people is illegal. What am I missing?”
“You’re missing the big picture because you’re off on a tangent. About a collateral matter that is purely coincidental.”
“Does your lawyer know you’re a fraud?”
“Why?”
“In her case I’m just curious. I wasn’t thinking of charging her with complicity.”
Cora looked at him sharply.
He smiled, nibbled a French fry.
“Damn,” Cora said. “I can’t tell when you’re kidding. I’m usually good at that.” She picked up a fry. “Becky knows I can’t do crossword puzzles. She doesn’t know I can’t construct them.”
“How is that?” Crowley said.
“She knows me as the Puzzle Lady. It came up that I couldn’t solve a puzzle. I had to admit that it was very embarrassing for me, but that was the case.”
“She still thinks you make ’em up?”
“That’s right.”
“I’m surprised. That doesn’t sound logical to me.”
“I told her some constructors can’t solve.”
“And she bought it?”
“Apparently some can’t. There’s a rival constructor in town. I told him the same thing and occasionally asked for his help.”
“Hmm,” Crowley said. “He got the hots for you?”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“Well, if he’s got the hots for you, he could be just pretending to believe you.”
“Harvey Beerbaum? He’s a prissy old fussbudget. Sometimes I think he’s gay.”
“So he doesn’t have the hots for you?”
“Actually, he does.”
“See?”
“Anyway, that’s the story. You gonna smear me with it, end my career?”
“That’s not why I was asking.”
“Why were you?”
“Frankly I just want the damn puzzle solved.”
“And you can’t do it yourself?”
“Look who’s talking.”
Cora ignored the comment, picked up a greasy French fry. “I must say, I hardly expected you to spring for such a classy establishment.”
“Hey. It’s close to the office, and you don’t need a reservation. So it’s not Peter Luger’s.”
Cora’s eyebrows raised at the mention of the most famous steak house in New York City. “You eat at Peter Luger’s?”
“If I save up my allowance. And have time to get to Brooklyn.”
“You’re a sergeant. Don’t you make your own time?”
“Yeah, right,” Crowley said. “You know how many cases I handle. Some days I’m lucky to get lunch delivered.”
“You’re out now.”
“It’s a special case. The beloved Puzzle Lady might be charged with murder. Schoolkids might be disillusioned.”
“And you figure if you ply me with cheeseburgers and fries, I just might confess?”
“I wasn’t counting on it.”
“Then why’d you agree to lunch?”
“I was hungry. And I wanted to see how you were going to squirm out of it.”
“What made you think I would?”
“You wouldn’t solve the first puzzle, feigned a whopping indifference. I didn’t know why, but it seemed worth checking.”
“And this helps your investigation how?”
“Well, if it’s true, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t be, it lets you off the hook for creating the puzzles. You have anyone can corroborate the fact you can’t construct?”
“My niece Sherry. She actually creates the puzzles.”
“And you take credit for them?”
“Hey,
it wasn’t my idea.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“At the time, she was hiding from an abusive ex-husband. I was glad to do it for her. I didn’t realize I was condemning myself to a lifetime of pretense.”
“The ex-husband still a problem?”
“Haven’t heard from him lately. He got married, which didn’t slow him down any. Then she got married and had a kid. I think he’s starting to get the hint.”
“Any chance he could be behind this?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Wouldn’t have the nerve. Oh, he’s not above sending a few threatening puzzles. But he’s not capable of murder.”
“If you say so.”
“Oh, yeah. Don’t waste your time.”
“But you say he could have made up the crossword puzzle?”
“A blind chimpanzee could have made up the crossword puzzle. Probably the only person in America who couldn’t have made it up is me.”
“Well, maybe we’ll know more when we solve it.”
Cora picked up her cheeseburger. “Maybe so, but neither one of us is going to do it.”
Crowley looked around the diner. “There must be someone here can solve puzzles.”
“Whoa!” Cora said. “You can’t ask a stranger.”
“I’m a cop. I can do what I want.”
“Where’s a New York Post reporter when you need one?” Cora laid out the headline with her hand: ‘Arrogant Police Officer Boasts, ‘I’m a Cop, I Can Do What I Want.’”
“Oh. There’s a guy with a crossword puzzle.”
Crowley started to get up.
Cora grabbed him by the sleeve. “Hang on.”
Crowley looked at her in surprise.
“You can’t ask him to solve this for you.”
“Why not?”
“I’m on television. My picture is in over two hundred daily newspapers. You can’t have lunch with the Puzzle Lady and ask someone else to solve your puzzle.”
Crowley sat down. Frowned. “That’s a pain in the ass.”
“You have no idea.”
Chapter
22
Cora paced nervously outside the Supreme Court building, often seen in courtroom movies on account of being more cinematic than the Criminal Court building up the street. The Supreme Court building boasted a high, wide marble staircase and huge marble pillars set just far enough back from the street to provide a good camera angle and look imposing as hell. Cora recalled Al Pacino playing a scene there in the movie And Justice for All. It occurred to her that was a hell of a long time ago.
Crowley had been gone for half an hour. How long did it take to solve a damn crossword puzzle, anyway? Hell, Harvey Beerbaum would have whipped through it in under five minutes. Sherry, too, for that matter. Clearly cops weren’t as smart as they were cracked up to be.
About five minutes later, Crowley came skipping up the street waving the crossword like a giddy schoolboy who just aced his term paper.
“Well, that took forever,” Cora said.
“Yeah. The guys who do puzzles were gone. A bunch of us worked on this. I hope it’s right.”
“You’re not sure?”
“How the hell should I know? There’s no answer grid to check.”
“All the words have to intersect.”
“Oooh, listen to the expert.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
“What are you so nervous about?”
“Same as in the restaurant. If one of your cops sees us, I don’t want him thinking, ‘Why is the chief having me solve the puzzle when he’s meeting the Puzzle Lady?’”
“Come on. I wanted to have it solved so I could spring it on you. Not give you time to think while you solve it yourself.”
“Even so.”
They walked down to Chambers Street, Cora ignoring Crowley pressing the puzzle on her, urging her to take a look.
“What are you so excited about? Do you think it’s a clue?”
“It looks like it, but I can’t figure it out. I bet you could.”
“Do you really think so, or are you just pretending to because you have the hots for me?”
“I really believe it.”
“Well,” Cora said. “That’s not particularly flattering.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, dear. I hope you’re better at your job than you are at picking up social cues.”
“Social cues? Lady, I got a homicide to deal with. I went out on a limb letting my prime suspect go. What more do you want from me?”
The question caught Cora up short. She figured she was blushing, was glad she was walking right along. “Is there a coffee shop around here?”
“We just ate.”
“Someplace we could sit.”
“How about a park bench?”
“How romantic,” Cora said. “I haven’t sat in the park with a boy in years.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Of course not. I don’t even know if you’re married.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“Not much. At least that’s what married men seem to think.”
“You meet a lot of married men?”
“They aren’t always married.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes they start married, get divorced.”
“Because of you?”
“Not according to my attorney.”
“You’re funny,” Crowley said. “Let’s go.”
“What about the park bench?” Cora said, but Crowley was already escaping down the street.
They found a coffee shop on Chambers, slid into a booth.
“I’m buying,” Cora said. “What’ll you have?”
“Black, no sugar.”
“What a surprise.”
Cora gave the waiter the order.
“Now,” Crowley said, “you’ve stalled long enough. Would you care to take a look at this puzzle? Or does someone else solve crime for you, and you just take credit for it?”
“Nice. You really know how to stick the needle in. Here, give me the puzzle.”
The waiter delivered their coffee while Cora studied the puzzle. When he left, she read the theme answer.
Only three
Column one
Up and down
This is fun.
She looked up from the puzzle. “You can’t figure this out? How could you possibly not figure this out? The way I see it, it’s just like the first puzzle. It’s referring to three numbers in the first column.”
“That would seem obvious. And look at 69 Across: ‘Station in question.’”
“What about it?”
“You tell me.”
Cora looked at the puzzle. “69 Across: ‘Station in question.’ And the answer is … Penn. Penn Station is the station in question.”
“And the question is, what do the numbers in the first column of the sudoku refer to? And that’s mighty interesting.”
“Why.”
“Here’s the sudoku we found on the dead man.” Crowley pulled it out, set it on the table. “There’s three sets of three numbers in the first column. 851, 946, and 273. So you figure it’s one of those. But what is it? A train? No, and even if it was, it wouldn’t be staying in Penn Station. It might be stopping in every now and then, but it’s hardly a number in Penn Station.”
“So what is?”
“There’s a bank of lockers in the Long Island Rail Road section. One of my detectives thought he remembered they were numbered starting at one hundred and going on up.”
Cora shook her head. “Huh-uh.”
“Why not?”
“If that’s the answer, what’s up and down?”
“Aside from the locker numbers, they also have three-digit combination numbers. So we figured maybe up is the locker and down is the combination lock, or vice versa.”
“So go to Penn Station and try both combinations on your three sets of lockers.”
Crowley smiled sheepishly. “Well, actually…”
Cora’s eyes narrowed. Her glare could have wilted flowers. “‘Well, actually’? Did you just say, ‘Well, actually’?”
Crowley squirmed miserably. “My boy Perkins ran up there and checked it out. The locker numbers don’t go any higher than the four hundreds. That knocks out the middle three, 946 and 649. It also knocks out 851. Which leaves 158, 273, and 372. None of those combinations work on any of those lockers.”
“Well,” Cora said. “That’s what took you so long. It wasn’t doing the puzzle. You were checking it out behind my back.”
“It wasn’t behind your back.”
“It wasn’t in front of me, either.”
“I was only looking for verification. It occurred to me it would be nice to get back to you with it all figured out.”
“You wanted to impress me?”
“Yeah.”
“But you know I can’t do puzzles.”
“But you’re great at figuring out what they mean. That’s all I wanted to do. I don’t know what went wrong. By rights, it should have worked.”
“I tend to doubt that.”
“That’s easy to say now that it didn’t.”
“I’d say that even if you hadn’t checked it. I mean, come on, give me a break. You expect me to believe that the sudoku found on the body would also yield the number and combination of a locker in Penn Station? A locker that would have had to have been rented today. I mean, these things have a twenty-four-hour limit, don’t they? So, the guy devises a sudoku, primes it with the license plate number of the car he’s going to follow me in, and at the same time includes the combination and number of a locker he’s planning to rent in the future. How the hell does he do that?”
“He could have rented it for twenty-four hours and kept renewing it.”
“What, is he nuts? Some of these puzzle people are, they’ll jump through hoops just to construct something no one’s ever done before. Which I guess will happen until someone designs a crossword with no black squares whatsoever.” Cora put up her hand. “Don’t look at me like that. I heard someone talking about it. The point is, for all practical purposes, it can’t be done.” Cora cocked her head at him. “You know what that means, for all practical purposes?”