Presumed Puzzled

by Parnell Hall

  “Absolutely,” Cora said. “It’s what attracted Frank.”

  “Frank?”

  “My third husband. I think he was third. There’s a gray area, what with the annulments.”

  Crowley got up and poured himself a bourbon. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m drinking?”

  “Not a bit. I like a man who drinks. Not that I have to get ’em drunk, usually. Maybe a few shy types.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that you’re not drinking?”

  “No, the one thing has nothing to do with the other.”

  “Are you in AA?” Stephanie said.

  Cora shook her head. “Not my style. If I don’t drink, it’s because I don’t want to drink, not because a bunch of people I don’t know pressured me into feeling guilty about it.”

  “That’s not what AA does,” Stephanie said.

  “Are you in it?”

  “No, but I know enough people who are.”

  “I thought it was anonymous.”

  “It is. That doesn’t mean people can’t tell you they’re in it.”

  “Yeah, well, I quit drinking on my own. I quit smoking on my own. And when I quit dating, it will be entirely on my own, and not because someone asked me in a supportive way if I was seeing someone.”

  “Oho!” Stephanie said. “What a way to turn the conversation around with a devastating zinger. Well done!”

  “Sounds like you don’t need any help,” Crowley said.

  “Unless you know someone who needs the services of a Bakerhaven lawyer.”

  “Becky Baldwin needs work? I don’t know why. That girl is damn good.”

  “There’s not a lot of business in Bakerhaven.”

  “She should move to New York.”

  “Hey!” Cora said. “Don’t deprive me of my one source of entertainment. Doing Becky’s legwork is what keeps me sane.”

  “I thought there is no legwork,” Crowley said.

  “I rest my case.”

  Chapter

  5

  Aaron Grant flew Jennifer around the living room like an airplane, with Buddy the toy poodle nipping at his heels, while Sherry showed Cora the crossword puzzle.

  “Okay, here it is,” Sherry said. “I just couldn’t do a long support-our-hardworking-police-department-to-whom-we-owe-an-enormous-debt-of-gratitude message.”

  “Right,” Cora said. “It doesn’t fit in the grid.”

  “It’s not the length of the answer I’m talking about, it’s the tone,” Sherry said. “I can’t do a sickly sweet appreciation. I’m not cut out for it, and neither is the Puzzle Lady. Puzzle Lady puzzles have a little edge to them, a little barb, a little playful quality. That’s what makes them Puzzle Lady puzzles and not the puzzles of anybody else.”

  “What are you buttering me up for?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s something about this puzzle I’m not going to like that you’re trying to prepare me for.”

  “Absolutely not. I think you’re going to love it. But—”

  “What?”

  Sherry made a face. “Chief Harper may not.”

  “Let me see.”

  Cora took the puzzle and read: “‘No one likes lazy flops. So get it up for the cops.’”

  “What do you think?”

  “I love it. Aggressive, insulting, erotically suggestive, and homosexual to boot. Chief Harper will be thrilled.”

  “Sorry. I was getting punchy.”

  “It’s wonderful. He’ll never ask me again.”

  “Show her the other clues,” Aaron said, as the Jennifer airplane glided by.

  “There’s more?” Cora said.

  “Just a clarification,” Sherry said.

  “Yeah,” Aaron said. “She’s more specific about what she wants you to get up.”

  “Is it a four-letter word?” Cora said.

  “One of them is.”

  “Sherry, how bad is this?”

  “Not bad at all. The answers are ‘cash,’ ‘money,’ ‘dough,’ ‘bucks.’”

  “You missed ‘shekels.’”

  “It didn’t fit the grid.”

  The phone rang.

  “Saved by the bell,” Cora said. “I don’t care who that is, just so it gets me out of the conversation.” She took the receiver off the hook, wandered back into the living room on the long cord. “Hello?”

  “Cora? Chief Harper.”

  “I’m on it, Chief. As a matter of fact, I’ve come up with the most wonderful homoerotic puzzle.”

  “What?”

  “Relax. You’ll love it, and contributions will double.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harper said, “but you asked me to call if I got anything. You want this tip or not?”

  “What is it?”

  “A missing persons report.”

  “You got a missing persons report?”

  “No, I got a report of a missing person. Only, I don’t have a report of a missing person, because you can’t have a report of a missing person until they’ve been missing twenty-four hours.”

  “Chief, either you’re not making any sense, or I’m still stuck in puzzle mode. What are you talking about?”

  “You know Paula Martindale?”

  “I play bridge with Paula Martindale.”

  “Her husband’s missing.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “He didn’t come home from work last night.”

  “No?”

  “No. He works in the city. Odds are he hooked up with some woman, stayed over. Not going to win him Husband of the Week, but not unprecedented.”

  “Yeah,” Cora said. “Hmmm.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What?”

  “Why are you calling me?”

  “You wanted me to tip you off.”

  “That’s not a client. It’s not even a case.”

  “No, but it could be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The guy’s missing. If he turns up, fine. If he turns up dead, and it’s a homicide, the wife’s always the most likely suspect.”

  “She came to you,” Cora said.

  “Which would be a good move if she just killed her husband and was trying to escape the blame.”

  “Whoa, whoa, Chief. You’re getting way ahead of yourself. Nobody killed her husband. It’s not even a missing persons report.”

  “That’s right. Like I say, I can’t investigate it.”

  “Right.”

  “But you can.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re a friend of hers. You can call her up, say, ‘I heard Roger’s missing; look, this is not unprecedented, I’ve been married before, this happens all the time, I know you’re probably going nuts, let me come talk to you, you’ll see it’s not so bad.’”

  “You really have a devious mind, you know it?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “You want me to pump this woman under the guise of friendship.”

  “What’s devious about that? It’s just good cop–bad cop without the bad cop.”

  “I’m glad that doesn’t strike you as devious.”

  “Come on, Cora. Give it a whack. You’ll be doing me a favor, then if anything does come of it, you’ll have the inside track with Becky Baldwin.”

  “Speaking of favors?”

  “What?”

  “You’re going to love your puzzle.”

  Chapter

  6

  The Martindale residence was a two-story white frame house with black shutters on Glenwood Street. Though fashionably unpretentious on the outside, the house was garish on the inside. Having played bridge with Paula Martindale, Cora was not surprised. Paula was an aggressive player, with a tendency to overbid her hand and blame her partner. Cora didn’t like playing with her, but she had joined the game a year ago when one of the regulars dropped out. The other regulars were First Selectman Iris Coope
r and Judy Douglas Knauer, the real estate agent. Judy had brokered the deal on the Martindales’ rental, and Paula had asked her about bridge. It hadn’t occurred to Judy that her unusual interest in asking a virtual stranger indicated an obsessive personality probably not harmonious to the group. Cora couldn’t stand being partnered with the woman and was not at all surprised to find her living room overdecorated with paintings, vases, wall hangings, even a free-standing bronze statue of a boy on a dolphin.

  The woman herself was garish in an overtly sexual way, a predatory man-eater, arrogantly flaunting her youth in Cora’s face. Not that she was any spring chicken herself, just enough Cora’s junior to be able to accentuate the difference with dress and makeup enough to relegate Cora to out-of-the-running, over-the-hill noncom. Paula exuded confidence. It was in fact her most obnoxious trait. She knew that she was right and everyone else was wrong, but she would condescend to point out the error of their ways.

  Cora was surprised when Paula met her at the door. She seemed hesitant, confused, shaken, entirely out of character.

  “So,” she sniffed, ushering Cora in the door, “Chief Harper wouldn’t come himself.”

  “It’s not an official missing persons report yet.”

  “Yes, yes. Chief Harper went over all that. Those ridiculous rules people follow like drones. You ought to be able to use common sense. There’s a big difference between some crack-addict baby-daddy who never comes home anyway and a respectable, hardworking man who’d never failed to come home in his life.”

  “There certainly should be some flexibility,” Cora said. “My ex-husband Melvin was missing more often than not. Filing a report would have been foolish. But that shouldn’t taint the pool.”

  Paula was in no mood to hear about Melvin. “What?” she said irritably.

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

  “What do you mean, what happened? He didn’t come home.”

  “Yesterday?”

  “Yes, of course, yesterday.”

  “The last time you saw him was yesterday morning?”

  “Yes. After breakfast when he left for work.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Seven thirty, seven forty-five. What difference does it make?”

  “So you haven’t seen him in over twenty-four hours.”

  “That’s what I said. Then Chief Harper calls his office and they say he hasn’t been in today, and he asks them if he was in yesterday, and they say, yes, he was in all day. So he says that means he was last seen five o’clock yesterday afternoon, which means it hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “To who? Some lazy police officer trying to get out of doing his job? So what if someone else saw him within twenty-four hours. I haven’t seen him within twenty-four hours. And where’s he get off taking someone’s word for it on the phone anyway? That wouldn’t stand up in court.”

  “Yes, but you’re not in court,” Cora said. “And nothing you can say is going to force Chief Harper to do anything until it’s been twenty-four hours, so you might as well let nature take its course.”

  “Is that what you came out here for? To take Chief Harper’s side?”

  “No. He thought I might be able to help. Which was really his way of helping. Since legally he wasn’t able to help any other way.”

  “You’re talking in circles,” Paula said. “This is not a question of semantics. This is a question of getting my husband back. What are you going to do about that?”

  “I don’t know what I can do about it, because I don’t know the facts. If you could channel all the energy you’re spending on anger into doing something constructive, maybe we can figure something out.”

  “Yeah, like that’s really going to help.”

  Cora didn’t think it would, either. The most constructive thing she could think of was strangling the woman. She hesitated, then approached the next subject delicately. “Have you considered the possibility he might have stayed overnight with someone?”

  “Not unless he was held against his will. In which case we’re talking about an abduction, not just a missing person. Why doesn’t anyone understand that?”

  “He couldn’t have just stayed with another woman?”

  “Absolutely not! My husband was incredibly devoted. He called me every day from work just to make sure everything was all right.”

  “Did he call you yesterday?”

  “Of course he did.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Around three o’clock, same as usual.”

  “Did you mention that to Chief Harper?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, when you told him you hadn’t seen your husband in twenty-four hours, you had heard from him since then.”

  “What difference does that make? He’s missing, I’m worried, but everyone’s so concerned about time. I’m afraid something’s happened to him. If he could come home he would; obviously, he’s being held against his will.”

  “Have you had any unusual phone calls? Anything that might be the prelude to a ransom demand?”

  “No, I haven’t. Which doesn’t mean nothing’s wrong.”

  “Nothing in the mailbox? Nothing slipped under your door?”

  “No, nothing like that … Oh, there was one thing out of the ordinary. Chief Harper wasn’t impressed.” She snorted. “Of course, he wasn’t impressed with anything.”

  “Something out of the ordinary?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was that?”

  “Oh. Here. Now, where was it?” Paula pawed through the magazines on the coffee table. “Ah, here we are.”

  She handed Cora a piece of paper.

  It was a crossword puzzle.

  Chapter

  7

  Cora slammed the crossword down on Chief Harper’s desk. “You forgot to mention this!”

  Harper looked up from his paper. “Oh? What is that?”

  “As if you didn’t know. It’s a crossword puzzle. It’s Paula Martindale’s crossword puzzle. It is the crossword puzzle you neglected to mention before you sent me out there, because you knew if you did I wouldn’t go. It’s the crossword puzzle you let me lead with my chin and walk right into because I didn’t know it was coming.”

  “Oh. That crossword puzzle.”

  “I’m not in a good mood, Chief. You have any break in the case yet?”

  “What case?”

  “The Roger Martindale case.”

  “It’s not a case yet. It’s not even a missing persons.”

  “It’s gonna be in a minute. And it’s gonna take a whole damn task force to find your scattered remains.”

  “Did you solve it yet?”

  Cora nearly gagged. “No, I did not solve it yet. And I’m not going to solve it. You’re going to take it to Harvey Beerbaum to solve. Which is what I’ve told you to do with any unsolved puzzle you encounter in the course of your investigations.”

  “Well, that’s the thing,” Chief Harper said calmly. “This isn’t an investigation.”

  “Harvey doesn’t know that!” Cora exploded. “Harvey doesn’t care. He’ll be happy you asked him.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. In the event this becomes a case, I will certainly ask him.”

  “Fine,” Cora said. She picked up the crossword, folded it, and shoved it into her floppy drawstring purse.

  “What are you doing?” Harper said.

  “I’m taking away this offending crossword puzzle that you’re not interested in.”

  “I’m not interested in it yet. Of course, if this becomes a case I’ll expect it to be solved.”

  “I may have gotten rid of it by then.”

  “You’re planning on throwing it away?”

  “Why not?”

  “It could be evidence.”

  “Of what? You can’t have evidence without a case, Chief. I guess I’m stuck with it. Don’t worry. Luckily, Sherry has a shredder.”

  “No
w look,” Harper said. “Why don’t you leave the puzzle here? If the guy doesn’t show up and it becomes a missing persons case, I’ll have Harvey Beerbaum solve it.”

  “That would be the way to play it,” Cora said. “Only you didn’t want to do that.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Paula Martindale gave you the puzzle. You wanted to take it and have Harvey solve it, but you couldn’t, not as long as you were claiming there was no case. So what do you do? You leave the puzzle there and send your good friend Cora out to blunder her way into it. And Paula will give the puzzle to me and I’ll bring it to you. And you can have it without evincing the slightest interest in it or acknowledging there might be a case.”

  “That sounds a lot better than the husband barging into my office demanding to know why I’m stealing his crossword puzzle.”

  “So you thought of that?”

  “Of course I thought of that. I’m a policeman. I can’t go around exceeding my authority and butting into people’s business. If I acted on the report of every wife who was having trouble with her husband—” Harper put up his hand. “That is not to disparage women or imply in any way, shape, or form their complaints are not valid.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Chief,” Cora said. “I’m not quoting you, and you’re not running for office. You abused our friendship to get the crossword puzzle and I don’t appreciate it. Let’s move on. You want the damn thing, have Dan run off a copy. If it turns into anything, you can have Harvey solve it. And I’ll have a copy of my own. Because the one thing that is not happening here is you are not finding out the crossword puzzle means something but you can’t tell me because Ratface doesn’t want Becky Baldwin to know about it.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Harper said.

  “Oh, yeah? Suppose Roger Martindale really was abducted? Suppose Becky winds up defending whoever Ratface picks as the kidnapper?”

  “Stop calling Henry Firth ‘Ratface.’”

  “I will when he stops looking like a rat. How’d a guy like that ever wind up county prosecutor anyway?”

  Harper ignored her, picked up the phone. “Hey, Dan, come here a minute.”

  Bakerhaven’s young officer came in the door. It occurred to Cora he wasn’t so young anymore, a sobering thought. Yet he still had that boyish eagerness. And he’d always been a big Puzzle Lady fan.