The Colonel handed us a wadded up piece of paper. I opened it and held it so Lou could read it, too.
SOON YOU WILL DIE IN YOUR SANCTUARY
“I checked the camera. I checked the secret entrance. No one has entered this room, and yet, it was here that I found this note, right where you’re sitting.”
“Is it possible that the note has been here for a while?”
“No, I noticed it as soon as I came in the room, but it doesn’t matter, Cy. No one else has a key. I’ve run the video back and forth. Since the camera is one of my inventions, I feel certain no one has tampered with it. No one else has been in this room for the past three days until the two of you came in just now. Naturally, I’m worried. I’m acting as if whoever wrote this means what he or she typed. And I want the two of you to look into this for me.”
“Naturally we’re willing to help, but we’ll have to ask you some questions. We need for you to answer them as truthfully as possible.”
“Of course. I’m willing to cooperate any way I can. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have called you. I’ve anticipated some of your questions and have been thinking about who might have done this.”
I studied the library as I gathered my thoughts. True, it was a library. Thousands of books gave evidence to that. But what a room. I’d seen a few homes not much larger than the room we were in. I guessed the ceiling to be around twelve feet, possibly higher. Bookcases climbed from the floor to the ceiling, and covered two walls, the one behind the desk straight in front of the door and the long wall down the side opposite the door.
Two movable ladders, one on each wall, were connected to the bookcases and slid along when someone needed to reach a book on a higher shelf. A cordovan leather couch faced away from us toward a fireplace at the other end of the room. Polished brass studs accented the couch and held it together. My guess is that the matching chairs on which Lou and I sat normally bracketed the couch and faced the fireplace. There were tables with brass lamps, floor lamps, and track lighting housed in the opposite wall, but not a window in the room. Nothing gave evidence of where the note had come from, but I didn’t expect to learn anything, because the Colonel knew the room much better than I.
The Colonel gave us time to get our bearings, waited for me to take over.
“Of course, Colonel, the important thing is to find out who could’ve put this note in this room, and how they could’ve done it. I’d think you would have a better idea than we would how someone could’ve done this, so let’s start with who. I want a list of people who’ve been in the house in the last six months. Why don’t you begin by telling me who lives here now?”
“I’m only going to say this once, Cy, because it’s your investigation, but I don’t think any of my family is in any way involved, but I will answer any question you ask of me. Of course there’s Martha and me. We share the master bedroom which is located directly above this library and the living room you passed on the left when you came in the door. All the other bedrooms are on the other end of the house. I’m sure that you remember that we have two daughters. Our oldest, Darlene, died when a drunken driver hit her when she was a senior in high school. The youngest, Jill, and her husband, Frank, are missionaries in Africa. They had two daughters, both of whom are currently living with us. Jennifer, the oldest, is married and a senior at the university. Her husband, Scott, is a graduate student. Our other granddaughter, Trish, has been with us for a year and is about to complete her freshmen year at the university. We also have a young man staying with us. Tom Brockman is new to the area, and a teacher’s assistant at the university.”
“Even though two of those living with you’re family, I imagine you’ve spent little time with them as they grew up. How well do you know your granddaughters, your grandson-in-law, and the young man who’s living here?”
“While it’s true that the girls were born in Africa, Jill and Frank returned to the states one month out of the year, and they always spent two weeks of that month with us. We spent time with the girls then. Also, once every five years, they were required to spend the year in the states, so that gave us time to get caught up with them then. I feel that we got to know our granddaughters as well as most grandparents get to know their grandchildren who live at a distance. Besides, Jennifer has been with us over four years. She is on schedule to graduate in five years. She met Scott at the university, so we got to know him while they were dating, and they have been married and living here almost two years now.”
“And what about Tom Brockman? How well do you know him, and did you check him out before you offered him a room?”
“You know me, Cy. I thoroughly checked Tom out. He comes from a fine family. His father is a doctor, his mother a teacher. He has given us no problems. One thing that has helped us become a family to Scott and to Tom is that most evenings we eat together as a family. Everyone is expected at dinner, unless they let us know they have other plans. We don’t mind if someone has plans. We just want to know so we won’t hold dinner.”
“You hold dinner?”
“Well, not really, but Martha still wants to know that everything’s okay and everyone’s accounted for.”
“None of them have nine-to-five jobs. How many of these people are in and out of the house during the day?”
“During the week they are usually gone all day. Scott and Jennifer drive to school together. When Scott’s not in class, he spends a lot of his time in the library, writing. Most days their schedules allow them to eat together. Trish has classes every day. Some days she gets out of class early, but most of the time she doesn’t come home until 3:30 or 4:00. But she does get out at 2:00 on Tuesday and Thursday. Tom doesn’t want to be a bother, so he spends most of his free time in his office, if that’s what you want to call it. I’ve been there a couple of times. It looks more like a closet.”
“But any one of them could find time sometime during the day to come home if he or she so chose?”
“I suppose so, but none of them have made a habit of doing so.”
“No one has made a habit of leaving you notes until now.”
“That’s true, Cy. By the way, Cy, Lou, I’ve got an idea. I don’t know whether this will help or not, why don’t I show you around, have Martha fix a little something to snack on, and then we can come back and pick up where we left off?”
Chapter Three
I was tired by the time we got through with the tour of the house. Remind me never to go to the Biltmore. I could never handle the tour. As we toured the master bedroom, Lou whispered to me, “Cy, this bedroom is larger than my apartment.” I whispered back, “Yeah, and get a load of that sunken tub. It even has steps on one side to help you get out.” The right wing of the second floor was nothing but bedrooms, six large ones. A trip down the steps revealed a finished basement, which included a game room that most men would kill for. I wondered if either of the men who lived in the Colonel’s house would kill him. I decided to curtail such thoughts until after I’d met these men and focused my attention on the tour. The main floor included a room for anything a person could think of to do that the basement and second floor missed out on. After we finished our tour, we understood why everyone was so eager to live with the Colonel. If Lou and I hadn’t liked our privacy so much, we might’ve checked the upstairs rooms for “Vacancy” signs.
We ended our twelve mile hike in the kitchen, where Martha had just finished making sandwiches and hors d’oeuvres.
“Buck, you haven’t talked the boys to death, have you?”
“No, dear, we’re just getting caught up. And since we have more catching up to do, do you mind if the boys and I take our food into the library and finish up our talk in there?”
Instead of answering her husband, Martha turned to Lou, whom she considered the quietest of the three.
“Lou, send me some kind of sign if they end up talking you to death and you need to be rescued.”
We all laughed. Between the four of us we managed to carry enough food and drin
k to the library to last us until we could reach into our pockets and pull out a candy bar. If things got desperate, I promised myself I’d share my candy with the Colonel. I brought extras. I always do.
As I helped carry our replenishments, I looked at Martha to see if she looked like someone who was returning to the scene of the crime. I saw no guilt. I doubted if she knew why we were there.
After devouring a few sandwiches, I turned to the Colonel and resumed our conversation.
“Well, Colonel, if we may, I’d like to discuss two other groups of people. First, think hard and tell me who’s been in your house in the last six months.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. We had a party at Christmas, but most of those people haven’t been in the house since then. No one comes regularly, except for Joe Guilfoyle, my best friend. Joe and I’ve a standard date every Monday afternoon at 3:00.”
“Has Joe ever been in the library?”
“Sure. Most of the time, at least in the winter, that’s where Joe and I hang out. When the weather breaks, Joe and I head to the closed-in back porch, but it has only ceiling fans, so when the summer heat hits us, we head back in to the air conditioning, which usually means the library.”
“What do you talk about?”
“Oh, usually, what happened in the world of sports over the weekend. Plus, Joe and I are avid mystery readers. We both love a good whodunit, so we talk about the ones we’ve read, how we would have done it if we were the murderer, and we recommend other good mysteries or authors to each other.”
When the Colonel mentioned a good whodunit, I thought about our newest hobby, and I began to smile.
“What’s so amusing, Cy?”
“Oh, when you said whodunit, I got to thinking about our new hobby.” I pointed at Lou, then to myself to let the Colonel know who “our” was. “Have you ever been to the Scene of the Crime bookstore?”
“Oh, course. Everyone knows that’s the best place to find a good mystery.”
I thought of the Scene of the Crime and all their good books, which took me to the people we’d met there, and then for some reason my thoughts migrated to computers, Hershey, Pennsylvania, and the candy bar burning a hole in my pocket.
“Colonel, do you mind if I eat a treat I brought with me?”
“If you boys are still hungry, I can have Martha fix us something else.”
“Oh, no. It’s just that I’ve a craving for Hershey Almond bars, and Lou loves M&Ms.”
“Go ahead. If you make a mess the maid will clean it up.”
“Do you really have a maid, or are you speaking of Martha?”
“No, really, we have a couple who comes once a week, on Thursday. She cleans and her husband does yard work, carries out the trash, and fixes anything that might need it.”
“Is either of them ever in the library?”
“Oh, yes, but never without me present.”
“Tell me something about them.”
“Their names are Earl and Myra Hoskins. I’d say they’re in their early sixties. They work together, have five clients. They work at a different house one day each week. Our day is always Thursday. I say always. All the families know each other, so if anyone wants a different day they check with one of the other families to see if someone is willing to trade. You know, like if someone has a party planned, or something like that. In case you’re wondering, Earl and Myra came to us highly recommended and have been with us for seven or eight years. Not the kind of people I’d think would leave a note. Besides, they weren’t here today.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, neither of them has a key. One of us is always here to let them in. Besides, they were cleaning someone else’s house today.”
“Speaking of keys, tell me everyone who has a key to the house.”
“Everyone who lives here has a key. No one who doesn’t.”
“Back to the Hoskins for a moment, are they the kind of people who might talk about you or your house to others?”
“I don’t think so. They don’t talk to us about anyone else. They just come in and do a good job. That’s the reason they stay as booked as they want. I don’t think either of them would have anything to do with the note.”
“It looks like you have a long list of people who wouldn’t do this. Any idea who might?”
As soon as I asked the question, I was sorry that I did. I knew the Colonel was more anxious than I to cooperate. I raised my hand to let him know he didn’t need to answer.
“I’m sorry, Colonel. It just seems like your world is filled with all these nearly perfect people.”
“Probably so, but I’ve got a list of not-so-perfect people, too, only it’s a short list.”
“We’ll talk about them in a minute, Colonel, unless your not-so-perfect person falls into this next category. What about people who come to your house occasionally, people you don’t think about? Like the mailman, repair men, people like that? People you wouldn’t normally think of as being in your house.”
“Let me see.”
The Colonel reached into his desk and pulled out a calendar. This allowed me to reach into my pocket and pull out my candy bar. Most of it remained. I’d eaten one bite before I took off to pick up Lou, and then a second bite a few minutes ago. I looked for a luscious almond surrounded by chocolate. I didn’t want to eat two nuts in one bite, nor take out my knife to slice off a piece. I took a bite, looked over at Lou. He was all smiles, having just shaken a few M&Ms from his package to his mouth. Lou isn’t a one M&M at a time kind of guy. Besides, he rips his package open with his teeth. I can’t blame him. I had a wife for a few years to refine me. Lou’s never had anyone but me. Well, now he has a girlfriend, but she got in too late to refine Lou. Lou and I looked around and spotted the Colonel looking at us. He shook his head and smiled.
“Still boys, aren’t you?”
“You got that right. So, what did you find, Colonel?”
“This calendar includes anything that has happened this year that isn’t a part of our normal routine. I was right about events at the house, nothing since Christmas, but we had a plumber in, and the pest control was by three times to spray for ants. First time we’ve ever had ants in the house. And I can’t believe we had a problem with them before summer. Anyway, they’re gone now. And you mentioned the mailman. He has stopped in a couple of times with a package that’s too large to fit through the slot in the front door, but I don’t think he’s ever come any farther than just inside the front door.”
“I assume the pest control guy was in the library.”
“No, Martha told him that we’d never spotted any ants in the library. He said he’d do better if he could spray the whole house. We said we’d try it our way first, and if that didn’t work we’d let him in the library.”
“Did he seem anxious to get in the library?”
“Not any more so than any other room.”
“Did you ever see him?”
“No, Martha always helped him, tried to follow him as much as possible.”
“Are those all the people you can think of?”
“Well, we bought some new furniture last month. That was delivered.”
“Were the men in here?”
“No. I doubt if they know I’ve a library. The only special things about this place are that it is where I spend a lot of time, and that I’ve the only keys to the place.”
“If it’s not someone who lives here who’s doing this, he or she is doing their best to make it look like it. It would be so much easier to slip a note through the mail slot in the front door.”
“Yeah, but I must say, Cy, that wouldn’t scare me nearly as much as what was done. To think that someone has access to my library, and I have the only keys.”
“Any possibility that the note has been in here for a while, and when you opened the door, it blew to the floor?”
“This desk is the only place close enough for it to blow from, and, as you can see, I don’t keep a lot of things on my
desk. I would have noticed it for sure.”
“Well, let’s move on. Tell me about your neighbors. Are you on good terms with all of them? Any of them ever come over?”
“I get along with all my neighbors. Sometimes we socialize with some of them, but no one’s been over this year.”
“Are there any you’ve had any problems with?”
“No, we’ve been lucky. We speak to everyone. Everyone speaks to us.”
“Any possibility that someone’s jealous because you have the largest house on the street?”
“If so, I’m not aware of it.”
“Do you have any new neighbors?”
“The newest one is Bob Downey, next door, but he has been there for a couple of years or so.”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“Speaks when I see him, but mostly keeps to himself. He’s retired. Business I think.”
“Is he married?”
“No, he lives there alone.”
“I know his house isn’t nearly as large as yours, but why would he buy such a large house at his age.”
“Well, I said he’s retired, but I don’t think he is much older than the two of you. Maybe even younger than you.”
“So, who else can you think of? What about anyone who’s threatened you?”
“I can only think of a couple of people. Three actually. All of them were when I was at the university, before I retired. But that was a few years back. I would think if anyone wanted to do anything to me, he would have done it back then.”
“Some retaliate right away. Others wait until the person has forgotten about the incident, in order to increase their chances of getting away with it. Tell me about these people.”
“Well, one was a colleague, Michael Belding. He blames me for his not getting tenure at the university. He’s still in town, teaches at the high school. I’ve run into him a couple of times over the years. I can tell by the look on his face that he still blames me. The only others I can think of were students. Both blamed me for their not getting into the graduate program. One was a male, Daniel Terloff. The other was a female, Carla Bauerman. I always figured Terloff might have been the one who drove by and threw an open bucket of paint against the house one night, but I never was able to prove it. Both of these cases happened in my last year of teaching, but that was several years ago.”
3 Murder In The Library Page 2