by Susan Kohler
“This song seems like an answer to the last one,” Lanie explained. The song was: What Do You Get When You Fall In Love?
Softly she sang along with Dionne Warwick at the phrase, “a guy with a pin to burst your bubble, that’s what you get for all your trouble, I’ll never fall in love again.”
Frank groaned, leaning his forehead against hers. “I hope that’s not your final answer.” He laughed.
Lanie only laughed softly and sang the end of the song, “and so for at least until tomorrow, I’ll never fall in love again.”
She shot him an impish grin before she said to Frank, “How could it be? The song just came on; I didn’t have anything to do with the playlist.”
Before he could reply the staff began to serve dinner. By mutual consent they made their way to their banquet table. The meal was truly wonderful.
They had crisp Caesar salads, succulent prime rib, baked potatoes with unlimited butter and sour cream, mixed vegetables steamed with a slight glaze, and fresh, hot sourdough bread. The dessert was a sinful choice between triple chocolate mousse pie and several kinds of cheesecake. Both Frank and Lanie went for the chocolate mousse pie.
After dinner they danced again. As the slow, romantic music worked its magic on them, they danced closer and closer together as though they were drawn by magnets.
“This is wonderful,” Lanie murmured, relishing the feel of his hard body next to hers. She was more than conscious of a particular hardness pressing against her, telling her without words that Frank was moved, too. Even that hardness seemed right; instead of feeling lustful, it made her feel special and cared for.
“Is there going to be any murder mystery stuff tonight?” Frank whispered in her ear, nibbling softly and sending shivers up her spine. “Or are we on our own?”
“There’s still some mystery stuff. I already asked the host,” she whispered back. “He told me that only the Saturday night cocktail hour and dinner was time out, not the whole evening. In fact, there’s a short meeting after dinner to go over the facts we’ve gathered so far and make sure that everyone has seen all the evidence.”
“Damn!” He whispered urgently, “My mind is not set on solving any murders this evening.”
“Oh? What is your mind set on doing?” she asked, grinning at him. “Anything in particular?”
For an answer, he rubbed himself up against her in a discreet but unmistakable invitation.
She flashed a wide-eyed look up at him. “Sir, I’m no expert on anatomy but I’m reasonably sure that’s not your mind.”
“It is, however, a prime indicator of the direction my mind is taking.” Frank grinned.
“Just how prime it is, that’s open for discussion. Maybe we can discuss it later,” Lanie teased. “If the subject comes up again.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Frank assured her.
Just then, the mystery host appeared and the meeting was underway. He listed the clues without giving any interpretations to them. Thus far they were: For Vera Stanhope: The clues were the scandal sheet clipping, the picture of her with Charles Wells, the scrawled letter “R” on the wall, and a letter from Vera to someone named Randy stating that the affair was over and now he was going to have to pay to keep from going to jail. Something about stock manipulation, according to the letter.
“What letter?” Frank interrupted. “We’ve never heard of any letter. Aren’t we supposed to see all the evidence?”
“Almost no one has seen it yet. It was just turned in by the team that found it,” the host said. “I’ll pass it around.”
As the letter was circulated, the host continued the discussion with the murder of Charles Wells. The clues to his murder included: A forged suicide note and a gunshot wound to his head, with no apparent powder burns. That was all they had so far so the meeting adjourned. The dancing continued long into the night.
Frank and Lanie danced for a long time, savoring each other’s company. It seemed like the time passed too quickly. They were shocked when the music finally stopped and the cleaning crew began to straighten up the dining room.
While it was still quiet, Frank and Lanie went outside for a while to soak in the evening air from the terrace. They stopped to lean against the gleaming white, wooden rail and drink in the aroma of a garden that had been planted especially to be as fragrant at night as it was beautiful during the day. The fragrances mingled with the scent of ocean breezes on the night air. It was a heady and romantic mixture.
Just as Frank took Lanie into his arms, one of the other mystery train guests bumped into her. It was Ellen, the newly widowed and sweet looking older lady. She was sobbing.
“Ma’am? Ellen?” Lanie said gently, steadying the older woman. “Are you okay?”
“Oh my dear, you’re just too kind. I’m just not myself, after all my husband is--” The older woman sobbed and broke away, running off with surprising agility. There was a strange smell following in her wake.
Watching her leave it was hard for Lanie to believe only that morning, when they had eaten breakfast together, Ellen had been half of a couple. A couple who had spent almost every second together on the train. They seemed to be devoted to each other. They had been particularly supportive of each other at the first crime scene, and they had been a fixture at every social hour and meal until Charles was murdered.
“It’s hard to believe that she’s a widow now, just this morning she and Charles seemed so close, so loving.” Lanie sighed sadly. “But I could see that there were undercurrents between them.”
“There was something, very vague,” Frank agreed. “A tension.”
“Now she’s alone after being married for so many years,” Lanie said somberly. “That’s so sad.”
“That’s no old woman, remember she’s a part of the mystery,” Frank reminded her as the woman ran off. “And she runs like a young woman. Her age is make-up and acting ability.”
When Lanie looked at him with a question in her eyes, he shrugged. “Before I met you, I watched young women every chance I got, especially from behind.”
“That must have been extremely hard for you to do.” At his questioning look she explained, “I’ll bet not too many women run away from you.” Lanie laughed.
“Not until I met you.” He hugged her, then he held her gaze as he continued, “All you seem to do is run away from me. I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Let’s follow her,” Lanie said, breaking the intense mood.
They followed the woman until they saw her stop and hide something under a rosebush. Then she disappeared into the garden. After she left, they dug around under the rosebush and found a small bundle. Frank pulled it out. Wrapped in a soft cloth, they found a used syringe and a woman’s wallet. Lanie sniffed at the syringe. The syringe didn’t have the scent of almonds. The wallet had a folded up newspaper clipping in it. It was a brief story about an investigation of insider trading by the SEC. No names were mentioned in the article. The wallet had a driver’s license in it with the name of Caroline LaRue.
They examined these things closely before they took them to the mystery host. They wandered among the guests for a short time before going back to Frank’s room. When they got there they ordered coffee from room service. They made themselves comfortable reclining on Frank’s bed and discussed the case. Frank began listing all the clues they’d seen and everything they’d found on a tablet, along with a chronology of events.
“So who’s Caroline LaRue?” Lanie puzzled.
“Beats me,” Frank told her.
They needed to figure out who committed each murder, how, and why, along with listing their clues and reasoning. So far they had no idea of who the murderers were, or why the crimes were committed.
Eventually their discussion wound down and they realized that they were sprawled out on Frank’s bed. Their eyes met and the air in the room seemed to sizzle. Lanie’s breath caught in her throat when, without saying a word, Frank swept the notes aside and placed the coffee cups c
arefully on the bedside table. Just as Frank leaned slowly towards Lanie they heard a scream!
“Damn!” Frank muttered as they started for the sound of the scream. “Who said this would be a romantic trip?”
“Not me. I was surprised by the whole idea.” Lanie quipped, “It must have been our mutual secret admirer.”
“Secret matchmaker, you mean.” Frank stopped as they came to the scene of the crime.
Frank and Lanie found a large group gathered in one of the hotel rooms. A rather heavy, middle-aged woman was dead with no apparent signs of injury. She was dressed in a flowing nightgown trimmed with feathers. She still had her make-up on, very heavy make-up.
The group did find, however, a syringe beside her body and one of those meters a diabetic uses to test blood sugar levels, along with several test strips. She also had a large amount of cash in her possession; they could see it flowing out of her purse. The whole group searched the room for other clues but nobody found anything. This time they found no clue as to the identity of the victim at the crime scene but Frank and Lanie already knew the reason for that. Her wallet and driver’s license had previously been found, and the photo matched--she was Caroline LaRue!
As they went back to their rooms Lanie stopped at her door. “Frank, I don’t think we should--, well, I think we were about to get carried away back there before the scream and--” She shrugged. “Heck! I’m saying this badly. I want you, but I’m just not ready to sleep with you yet. I hope you understand.”
“Is this the part where I say that I understand?” Frank leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “That I don’t want you unless you’re sure the time is right? I understand. I don’t like it much, but I do understand.”
The next morning Lanie awoke from a very restless sleep with the solution to all the murders firmly fixed in her mind. She called Frank, who was still asleep, and told him to put on a robe and come to her room. Then she pulled on her own robe and got into action before Frank ever had a chance to join her.
Quickly she got a sheet of paper then sat at the small table in her room and began to write all her ideas, spelling them out in a neat orderly fashion, ready to turn in as their guess for the solution. Frank got to the room just in time to stand there and watch as she worked on the paper, making suggestions from time to time. She wrote:
VICTIM 1
NAME: Vera Stanhope
HOW KILLED: Cyanide in her champagne
KILLED BY: Charles R. Wells, AKA: Randy
REASON: Vera was being blackmailed for certain indiscretions in her very scandalous past because she was engaged to marry a prominent senator who was thinking of running for president. Among her indiscretions was an affair with Mr. Wells, a Wall Street financier who gave her lots of trinkets, which he paid for with insider trading. Vera made a deal with her blackmailer: in exchange for an end to her blackmail, she had told the blackmailer about some of Mr. Wells’ illegal activities such as insider trading and pilferage of some old folk’s retirement accounts.
CLUES: The two champagne glasses, the scandal sheet clipping about her wild affairs, the smell of almonds on her champagne glass, the letter R on the wall, a letter to Randy telling him that the affair is over and now he’s going to be the one to pay for it. The picture of Vera slow dancing with Mr. Wells.
VICTIM 2
NAME: Charles R. Wells
HOW KILLED: Gunshot to the head
KILLED BY: Mrs. Charles R. Wells, Ellen
REASON: She had just found out about his affair with Vera Stanhope and was furious not only about his affair with a younger woman, but also that he was stupid enough to finance the affair by committing criminal acts that threatened her future. Their nest egg would be spent on legal fees and her good name in society would be ruined. Also her dream of spending the rest of her life in relative comfort with a loving husband was forever shattered.
CLUES: The forged suicide note was in her handwriting, according to the analysis, and she was the only one who could get close enough to do it. She found the body simply because she did the killing. Her suspicious acts on the night of the party, including hiding the bundle of evidence. The tall figure running down the hall was a red herring; he was going to get the porter to report the crime.
VICTIM 3
NAME: Caroline LaRue
HOW KILLED: Insulin Shock
KILLED BY: Vera Stanhope
REASON: She was the blackmailer. She had made a deal with Vera to discontinue the blackmail if Vera told her everything she knew about Randy Wells’ illegal activities, but she reneged on it. She was going to continue to blackmail both of them.
CLUES: A note to Vera saying, in a roundabout way: Thanks for giving me another person to blackmail but the payments must continue. A second, almost invisible, hole in the vial of insulin. Large amounts of cash. Traces of glucose in the insulin vial. The syringe found by Lanie and Frank.
“So?” Lanie looked at Frank expectantly. “What do you think?”
“How could Vera kill Caroline? She was already dead.” Frank was puzzled.
“That insulin could have been poisoned at any time,” Lanie pointed out. “She knew that sooner or later Caroline would have to use it. It’s a safe poison, too. There’s no chance of someone else taking it by mistake.”
“What do you mean?” Frank needed clarification.
“Well, if you poison something like a bottle of wine, you have to be very careful that an innocent bystander doesn’t get the poison instead of your intended victim. Who wants to go to death row for the wrong victim?”
“That would be a bummer.” Frank nodded agreeably.
“But with a prescription medicine, you wouldn’t have that worry.” Lanie continued, “You could put the poison in and just stand back and wait.”
“It’s frightening how your mind works.” Frank shivered.
“You’d better believe it, Bub,” she told him with an evil laugh.
“I still don’t know if I agree that Vera killed Caroline but I haven’t got any better suspect. Let’s go turn it in,” Frank returned to the subject. He planted a quick kiss on Lanie’s mouth. “Partner.”
They gave the solution to the mystery host who wrote the time on it and looked it over without a word as to its contents. He did have one thing to say, however.
“You do know that if anything else happens, you may have to revise this?” he questioned them.
Sure enough, something else happened. Ellen Wells was found dead of a gunshot wound to the head. Lanie grabbed her tablet and wrote simply:
Ellen Wells: faced with arrest in the death of her husband, committed suicide.
She handed the paper back to the host. Then she and Frank went into the dining room and ate breakfast at the inn. It was another great meal with heavenly omelets filled with ham and cheese, bacon, large glasses of orange juice, and homemade blueberry muffins. They even had time for another long stroll on the beach before it was time for them to get back on the train.
Chapter Nine
The Mystery Train’s return trip was much faster than the trip to the inn had been for several reasons. For one thing, they traveled a shorter route, and for another, the train itself traveled at a slightly faster speed. There was a final meeting for the passengers in the club car shortly before lunch, the last meal to be served aboard the train.
“Ladies and gentleman, I’ve reached my decision on the winner of the grand prize.” The mystery host stood at the center of the room and made his announcement.
Lanie’s keen sense of competition took over. She reached over and took hold of Frank’s hand, squeezing it gently. Frank was surprised at her action but returned the gentle squeeze. Together, still holding hands, they waited to hear the announcement.
The host prolonged the suspense by reading some of the wrong guesses first. Frank and Lanie listened but none of their solutions were read as being incorrect. With Lanie’s fingers crossed and still holding hands, they waited while the host read the winning guess. The answ
er to Vera’s murder matched theirs. The answer to Charles’ murder matched theirs. Lanie and Frank tightened the hold on each other’s hand! The solution to Caroline’s murder was read. It matched theirs, too!
The mystery host told the group that two teams actually had all the correct answers, including Ellen’s suicide, but only one team had listed the clues correctly. He said he would name the second place team first, without reading their solution. Then he would read the correct solution and the first place team. He named the second place team. It turned out to be an older couple from Oxnard traveling in celebration of the husband’s retirement. They stood up, seeming a bit embarrassed, while everyone applauded them and the mystery host gave them each a Mystery Train plaque naming them Detective First Class, Second Place, and discounts on a future stay at the country inn where the guests had spent Saturday night.
By that time, Frank and Lanie knew they’d won but they continued to grasp each other’s hands. The mystery host read their solutions, listed their clues, and then he read their names: Lanie McPherson and Frank Morgan. They’d won! They gave each other a quick hug, and an equally quick kiss, before they went up to claim their prizes. They each received wall plaques like the second place couple had and won a weekend stay for two at the country inn, but they received one more thing. There was a cash prize of $200.00 each. Lanie immediately handed her share of the winnings to Frank.
“On account,” she said, “for the damage I did to your brand new car at Laura’s party.”
“No way, Lanie love.” Frank handed her back her money along with his. “This goes to buy a new bike for your daughter, Cassie. She was telling me about wanting a bike when I met her at Kate and Bob’s party, or their wedding, whatever the heck it was.”
“I already got her a bike.” Lanie smiled. “It was used but in very good condition and I had it repaired and repainted. She really loves it. A brand new one couldn’t have made her any happier.”