There was a change in Todd’s personal life because of something he found out a day later. He had been visiting Erin Brock to see how Hiram was doing. Hiram was out at the neighborhood playground playing some baseball, which turned out to be part of the good news Erin was giving Todd.
They were sitting in the back garden of her English cottage, enjoying the perfect breeze blowing yesterday’s humidity away. “Since the kid came back from Charleston, there’s been a total transformation,” Erin said. “For one thing this baseball game he’s at right now. He never played any sports since I’ve known him, but just a week ago he saw some boys a couple doors down playing catch. He asked them if they ever played any pick-up games, which also was a first for him to mingle with other kids in the neighborhood. They said they had a game every Saturday, and that’s where he is now. He doesn’t talk about finding his true father, but I know that did the trick. Maybe he can find his place in society now.”
“That’s great, Erin. Your efforts are being rewarded also because you gave him the security he needed during his most troubled times.”
“I did help. Maybe the kid will turn out all right. I have to tell you that you’re still the talk of Calypso, this time because you were seen out with our newspaper editor.
“Yes, Nancy and I have become friendly.”
“I know you’re still investigating those murders. I don’t know how proper it is to date a suspect during a case.”
“I don’t consider her a suspect.”
Erin was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but Ms. Skylar got into a giant conflict with Ma Blessing a few years back. Nancy was just beginning as a reporter for the paper. Ma was the treasurer for the local church fund. As I understand it, the President of the church council had discovered that some money was missing from the fund. He was quietly trying to see what the problem was when of course word got out about what he was doing. Nancy interviewed him, and although he did not place blame on Ma, he did say she was the treasurer and had complete control of the money for the last few years.
“Nancy without letting some time elapse or even interviewing Ma, wrote a story about Ma Blessing stealing from the church. It got big headlines in the paper. Two days after the article appeared the President discovered it was merely a clerical error, and no money was missing at all. Nancy had to write a front page retraction, and then for the next few months both Ma and her friend Walt called for Nancy to be fired. The then editor of the paper stuck with her, and years’ later Nancy took over the running of the entire thing. However, there are still people in the community who have never forgiven Nancy for her rush to judgment; I know she was very upset about Ma and Walt campaigning that she be fired.”
“I didn’t know about any of that, Erin. I’m glad you told me.”
Back home that night, Todd felt that Nancy might not be a strong suspect for wanting revenge against Ma and Walt, but nevertheless she could now be considered at least minimally falling under the suspect category. He would have to talk with her.
He called Nancy and asked if he could come over.
“Of course, I want to hear all about your trip to Charleston. I’ve missed you, Todd.”
Darn, her feelings were making it worse, he mused to himself after he hung up. She is not going to be happy about what I have to tell her.
It seemed that Nancy had doubled her flower intake since Todd’s last visit. The back porch was now covered with at least five different kinds. There was barely enough room to sit and walk through.
Nancy was wearing a trim sundress and halter, which is what Todd noticed more than the flowers. She offered Todd a drink and he asked for a beer. Possibly he should have four or five to build up the gumption to tell her the bad news. He decided to get it over with right away. Before she could ask anything about Charleston, he said, “I’m here to tell you I heard about the article you wrote a few years ago about Ma Blessing and the church fund.”
“It wasn’t my finest hour. I had just begun at the paper; I wanted to make a name for myself. I was too greedy, too ambitious. These judgements of course are all in retrospect. Back then, I thought I had the hot new item of the decade about the good person turning into a criminal. Deep down, I knew I should have checked deeper into the story, but I jumped at the chance to make an impression. I made an impression all right, a negative one.
“When the error was discovered not only did I write a retraction, but I went over personally to apologize to Ma Blessing herself. She would have none of it. In fact, she and her cohort Fosdick tried to ruin me, get me fired. They never stopped bad-mouthing me to everyone they knew. For a long time when I tried to get stories from the townspeople, no one would talk to me. I never forgave those two people for the venom that spewed forth from them. I had made a mistake and a big one, but they never found it in their heart to forgive me.”
“It sounds like you haven’t forgiven them either.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“That’s why I came over here now. Finding out about that run-in with Ma and Walt, causes me to consider you a suspect in their murders.”
“Wow, that’s quite a jump!”
“I’m not saying you did it, but you had reason for revenge.”
“Yes, I did, but I certainly didn’t kill those two people. Maybe you think I killed Sheriff Carbon, too?”
“Nancy, understand what I’m saying. I’m not accusing you. It’s just that you had a motive for wanting payback. For that reason, since now in my mind you’re a suspect, I can’t keep dating you. It compromises my investigation because I could be willing to give you a pass when you didn’t deserve it.”
“As if I would want to date you, now that you think I’m a murderer. Yes, I jumped too quickly to conclusions about Ma Blessing and the missing money, but that’s exactly what you’re doing now. You’ve already convicted me. Should I just turn myself in?”
“Nancy, you’re misunderstanding what I’m telling you.”
“No, I think I’m understanding it very well. I think it would be good for you to leave.”
Todd got up, but Nancy wasn’t finished yet. “I bet I know where you got your information from. Erin Brock.”
“Yes, she was the one who told me.”
“I’ve been an enemy of hers for the last three years. There was a client she had, a young boy, who eventually committed suicide. I was covering the story of his death, with his mother telling me that Brock had been the kid’s therapist for over a year. I went to her to try to get her side of it. I made a misstatement that I regretted as soon as I said it. I asked her if she thought she had done all she could have for the boy. She got violently angry at me, ordering me out of her home, and from that day forward has never spoken to me, even when we pass each other on the street.”
Todd wasn’t going to say that Nancy was doing the same thing, ordering him out of her house with an immediate angry reaction.
Nancy was continuing, “I did the story of the boy’s death, but I never mentioned in the article that Brock was his therapist, or even that he had been seeing a psychiatrist. Somehow, though, given Calypso’s penchant for gossip, words got out about Erin and him. She has always blamed me for revealing that fact. The truth is I never told anyone. Those kinds of misunderstanding are very harmful. Well, I guess she got a little revenge by telling you about my Ma Blessing article.”
Driving away from Nancy’s house, Todd was very well aware that it all didn’t go well. It was interesting, though for him to learn more about Erin Brock. People were certainly not what they appeared to be, and it seemed in the town of Calypso, there was much fermenting underneath. Some of that boiling beneath the surface could have led to three murders.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Jo was back three days later with her arm in a sling.
“No real muscle tear damage,” she said. “The docs tell me it will good as new in a week.”
Todd told her about the rivalry between Brock and Skylar. “I’m not think
ing of either of them as strong candidates to be murderers.”
“Let me clue you in on one thing about women, Todd. They never forget. Remember that quote about a woman scorned. Hell hath no fury like that. I wouldn’t pass by them too quickly. Men commit most of the murders in the world, but woman can rise to the occasion also; I should say sink to the occasion.”
“Just as they were talking, who should walk into the McDonald’s but Nancy Skylar.”
“We were just talking about you,” Jo said.
“I bet you were. I have something to tell Todd.”
“I’m his partner now. You can tell me also.”
“If I must.” She turned away from Jo. “Todd, just so you don’t continue to think of me as your prime suspect, I have another person for you to consider. I hate to do your detective work for you, but it seems you need help.”
Todd had no words for that slap in the face.
“I did an interview for the book section of our paper with a local author, Gideon Grimsby. He’s just published a book that might not have great literary merit, but might be connected to your case.”
“I always appreciate help from the fair citizens of Calypso.”
“His book is called, It’s time for Murder again. You might recognize the plot. It’s about three people in a small town who are murdered on the same date and time each year for three consecutive years. The murders take place on April 1st at one A.M. Of course it’s April’s Fool’s Day but his novel narrates no tricks on that day but death. Does all this sound familiar?”
“You talked to Grimsby. Does he seem crazy enough to be a killer?”
“You think I could be one, so maybe a person doesn’t have to be too crazy, just bent on revenge or some motive like that.”
“I get your point Nancy. Thanks for the suggestion.”
“He lives in a shack not too far from Willy Jessup’s gas station. If you find that Gideon could be a suspect, I hope then that you won’t want to date him.”
After Nancy left, Jo said, “Both she hit you with both barrels.”
“She is not happy about our relationship being ripped asunder.”
“Was it really that strong a relationship?”
“It was on my part; she’s so upset now that I think she had feelings for me also. Anyway, on to Gideon’s place.”
Shack was an apt description. Part of the roof was missing. Hopefully that part was the bathroom because then Gideon could take a shower every time it rained. Two of the windows were boarded up. There was no front doorway, just a curtain.
Todd couldn’t knock on the curtain so he merely shouted, “We’re here to see Gideon!”
It took a couple minutes, but then a bearded fellow wearing only a T-shirt appeared. When he saw Jo, he said, “Oh, I’d better get some pants on. Excuse me for a minute.”
He was back wearing a ripped pair of jeans. Now Todd could read the small print on his shirt, which said, If Aloha means hello and good-bye, then one of the words should be Ahola. Todd thought he almost understood it, but he wasn’t sure.
Gideon gave a smile that showed two front teeth missing. “Welcome to my humble abode; come in and take off a load.”
They followed the barefoot man, who walked with a slight limp. In the one room—the only room—there were three bean-bag chairs, and of all things, a lava lamp. Todd felt he had been transported to an era he saw on CNN retrospectives about the 1960’s. Peace and love, and all that.
Todd sank down into the pink bean-bag; Jo did the same with the chartreuse one. Todd could see down a hallway which could contain a bathroom, or possibly there was an outhouse further out back. There seemed to be no bedroom, but Todd wasn’t going to ask.
Gideon skipped sitting on the blue bean-bag; instead he chose the floor. “And what can I do for you fine people today?” he asked scrunching up against a wall that had lost much of its plaster.
“We’d like to talk to you about your new book,” said Jo.
“It’s not my new book; it’s my only book. I put it on Amazon. It’s free to do that. Today was a good day: I sold three copies.”
“I know a little bit about your idea in it,” Todd said. “It’s about a murder the same day and time each year. Your book seems to mimic events that were happening in Calypso the last couple years. So far three people dead at ten o’clock on May 10th. “
“Yes, that’s where I got the idea. I heard about those killings and thought I’d use that for my plot. There are no original plots anyway. I just changed the month to April.”
“Are you sure you didn’t have something to do with those killings, and then wrote the story?” Jo asked.
“Oh, no, the killings happened, and then I wrote the story. You’re thinking I killed some people, so I could write a story about it? That would be pretty stupid. I may be a little slow, but I’m not that dull-witted. I didn’t even know two of the people who were killed in real life. I never met them. I guess the other one was the Sheriff. I’d seen him around but never met the man. If you want to read my book, you can go on-line and buy one. There’s a deal this week, only 99 cents. In my book I call them the Calendar Murders. Pretty clever, if I do say so myself.”
“Where were you on those May 10th dates at 10 A.M.?” Todd asked.
“Beats me. I don’t know where I was yesterday.”
Jo asked a good question. “Is there a fourth person that will die in your book next April 1st?”
“Hey, I can’t tell you the whole story. You’ll have to just relieve yourself of 99 cents and read it on your Kindle.”
“What made you want to write such a story?” she asked.
“Well, the idea was already there in reality, and then I thought whichever cops would be called in would be too dumb to figure out who did it, so I could write a lot of pages with them fumbling around.”
“Do they eventually find the killer?” Jo asked.
“Woman, you really don’t want to spent 99 cents, do you? Again, I can’t reveal that part of the book. I will say this, though, it’s a surprise ending.”
“What do you do for a living, Gideon?” Todd asked.
“I invent video games. I sold one a couple years ago, but times have been tough lately.”
“So you had to give up your beachfront condo?”
“What?”
“Never mind. Hang in there Gideon,” Todd said. “We’ll be on our way.”
Out on the street, Todd asked, “What did you think, Jo?”
“He didn’t do it,” she said. “The guy isn’t the clever serial killer we thought he might be. It would be a push for him to remember to put his pants on the next time he answers the door. I’m taking his word for the truth. He copied real life events and changed a couple details.”
“I wondered at one point he might be mocking us with the dumb cops part,” Todd said.
“You’re giving him too much credit.”
“You may be right, but I want to read the parts we asked about. I think I can spare 99 cents. Come up to my room, and we can kibitz about it. I have a Kindle.”
An hour later they had driven to the rooming house and downloaded the book. It was only 210 pages. “You look tired,” Jo said. “Take a nap, and I’ll do the first skimming of it.”
Todd fell asleep instantly and an hour later was awakened by Jo shaking him.
“Todd, you’ going to want to look at this.” He got up and walked over to her. She handed him the Kindle. “Page 82,” she said.
It took Todd only a minute to get what she had pointed to. “The detective on the case is the fourth one to go the next April 1st.
“That’s you, Todd,” Jo said.
“Maybe it is; maybe it isn’t. Maybe another sheriff was called in.”
“No, I read that part already. It’s a cop from a nearby town. Not exactly you, but it could be. Well, it’s a long way until the next May 10th, Jo said. “I skimmed to the ending, and there was a surprise for me there. The killer turned out to be an author in the same town who wa
s writing a fictional book about the killings. It sounded like Gideon was naming himself, telling the world he was the killer.”
“Either that man is the cleverest person on the face of the earth, or the dumbest, Todd said. “Which is it?”
“We have to live real life and find out,” Jo replied.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
Twenty minutes after Jo left to check with her South Bend sources about any criminal background on Gideon in the area, Todd got a phone call from Nancy.
“Did you interview Gideon? He’s quite a character. What did you think?”
“He’s no killer, Nancy. All he was doing was copying reality, writing his story after the killings happened.”
“Is that what he told you? I should have filled you in more. Over two years ago he called me up and told me he had a great story for a novel, and if he wrote it would I run it in the paper? I told him we do reserve a small section on a back page for local authors. He told me what his idea was back then. It turned out to be exactly what appeared in his final novel: people being killed on the same numbered date and time. He had that idea before the killings began.
“He told us he had never even met Ma and Walt.”
“That’s an outright lie. He spoke to Milly Jessup’s book club soon after he talked to me. I know Walt was there also because he told me he had spoken to that new author. Gideon did have contact with them. Just don’t believe everything people tell you, Todd.”
The question was should he believe her?
Jo did not come back that afternoon. Todd figured he would see her the next morning and he did but not the way he expected.
A good night’s sleep told Todd even more that Gideon Grimsby was not the killer he was looking for. He was about to go out for his morning breakfast when he had trouble with his door. It seemed to be stuck. The humidity had been worse the last couple days. Todd gave it one final push and it did budge, but now he saw that the door had been blocked. There was the body of Jo Clark, patched-up shoulder and all stretched out across Todd’s door. One bullet hole behind her ear seemed to have spoken its lethal message. The killer must have gotten close to her to inflict such a personal wound. Even a killer in this town liked a pattern. There was the May 10th repetition and now the pattern of leaving colleague law enforcement people right outside Todd’s door. Both hallway victims were probably shot elsewhere and dragged up the side stairs to make a point.
Return to Murder Page 18