1 52 Steps to Murder

by Steve Demaree

“Oh, my, yes.”

  “Mrs. Wilkens, maybe you’d better start at the beginning and tell me who all you saw this morning.”

  “Well, first was Irene Penrod. Right after I poured my coffee and came out on the porch, she came out of Mrs. Jarvis’s house.”

  “Do you have any idea what time that was?”

  “Yes, because Irene asked me if I had the time, and I looked and told her it was 9:13.”

  “Do you have any idea why she went to see Mrs. Jarvis?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “And what did she do when she left Mrs. Jarvis’s?”

  “Went right to Mrs. Nelson’s house.”

  “Did she have any trouble getting in?”

  “No, I suppose she just pushed the buzzer and Mrs. Nelson let her in.”

  “You didn’t see Mrs. Nelson let her in, did you?”

  “Of course not, Lieutenant. Mrs. Nelson was confined to her bed ever since her fall. Of course, I still think she was pushed. Anyway, Mrs. Nelson had to buzz Miss Penrod in.”

  “Any evidence Mrs. Nelson was pushed?”

  Mrs. Wilkens smiled. I could tell she was glad her comment piqued my interest.

  “I didn’t see it happen, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Any suspects?”

  “My guess is the loony did it.”

  “You mean the guy in the last house? The Reynolds boy?”

  “That’s right, the loony.”

  “And why do you say that?”

  “I was sitting on my porch that morning when he came running out of Mrs. Nelson’s house hollering like a hive of bees were after him.”

  “You’re talking about Jimmy Reynolds?”

  “That’s right, the loony.”

  “I ran in immediately and called Irene Penrod and told her she should check on Mrs. Nelson.”

  “And did she?”

  “She did. Even Stanley Silverman got in on the act. I guess his binoculars don’t see through brick walls.”

  “Who got there first?”

  “Irene. She found Mrs. Nelson on the floor at the bottom of the steps, called an ambulance, and they came and took her to the hospital.”

  “Did Mrs. Nelson say what happened?”

  “She said she fell. I’m not so sure. All I know is the old biddy kept the loony in the house for the next three days. Even after that she kept him on a shorter leash.”

  “Back to today, Mrs. Wilkens. All of this happened before you saw Mr. Hartley?”

  “That’s right. Mr. Hartley pulled onto the street just after Irene went into Mrs. Nelson’s house.”

  “And how much later was it when he entered the Nelson house?”

  “Oh, I’d say five or six minutes.”

  “And how long did he stay?”

  “A few minutes. It was 9:35 exactly when he handed me my mail. I know because I’d turned the radio on. I like to listen to those call-in shows in the morning, and they were just coming back from a news break.”

  “Who left the Nelson house first, Mrs. Wilkens? Mr. Hartley or Mrs. Penrod?”

  “Mr. Hartley. Irene left about five minutes after he handed me my mail.”

  “And did you see anyone else this morning?”

  “Yeah, the old biddy opened the door to check on the loony several times. He’d come out of his house and was hiding behind a tree. He was there most of the morning. She probably came out to make sure he didn’t hang any squirrels.”

  I suppressed a laugh and asked my next question.

  “And did you see anyone else?”

  “Well, Stanley Silverman was looking out his window watching what was going on.”

  “Did you notice how long he was there?”

  “Well, the first time I noticed him was when Mr. Hartley delivered his mail. He sat there awhile, then he left for a few minutes, and then he came back again.”

  “Do you know when he came back?”

  “He might’ve been gone fifteen minutes or so. He was sitting there when Irene left and was still there when Angela’s taxi pulled up.”

  “Tell me about that, Mrs. Wilkens.”

  “Not much to tell. Irene left in one cab and Angela came a few minutes later in another one.”

  “What did Angela do?”

  “Went up to the house. Looked like she rang the buzzer. Waited a couple of minutes and then went over to Irene’s and rang the bell. Naturally, no one came to the door. Then, she went back to her grandmother’s and stood on the porch. Looked like she called somebody and then a few minutes later a police car pulled up. Just about that time my phone rang, so I went in to get it.”

  “So, you didn’t see anyone else?”

  “Well, after I got off the phone I remembered that I left my coffee on the front porch. Came out just in time to see Bobby, the grocery boy, running up the street. Jumped in his car and took off. A minute or so later, this cop comes running out of the Nelson house. I picked up my cold coffee and headed in the house to put my beans on.”

  “When did you first notice Bobby’s car?”

  “When he left. Wasn’t there when I first came out on the porch.”

  I thanked Mrs. Wilkens for her help and turned to leave. I was sure that before she got to her beans she would call at least one friend to tell her how she had helped the police department solve a murder.

  Like Mrs. Wilkens predicted, I found no one else at home until I arrived at Miss Overstreet’s house. While it was obvious that Miss Overstreet didn’t like Mrs. Reynolds, thankfully, I did not find Miss Overstreet as talkative as Mrs. Wilkens. Mrs. Overstreet hadn’t seen or heard anyone that morning.

  I had no problem with downhill, but going up steps was another matter. I paused so often that I’d consumed almost two chocolate bars in the time it took me to navigate one side of the street. This allowed Lou to finish his side of the street before I arrived at my last house. We met on the sidewalk and paused to compare notes before beginning our final assent.

  Before I climbed the steps to the Reynolds’s house, I removed the rest of my candy bar from my pocket and ate the remaining two nuts and surrounding chocolate in one bite, something I seldom do. After I licked my fingers and put the wrapper back in my pocket, I led the way as Lou and I headed upward to question Mrs. Reynolds and her son Jimmy, who likes to hide behind trees.

  7

  I stared at the woman who stood in front of me. She wore a scarf over her head to cover the bobby pins that adorned her gray hair. She wore a frown on her face. I wasn’t sure what the frown was meant to cover. The hardened look on Mrs. Reynolds face was enough to scare any child, even if her arms were loaded with Christmas presents.

  “Mrs. Reynolds, I presume?”

  My first impression was to agree with Mrs. Wilkens. At any rate, I wasn’t as excited to see her as Stanley was to see Dr. Livingstone.

  “Who wants to know?” asked the scowling woman, who was probably younger than she looked. Surely her heart had been extracted from the same quarry as her face.

  “I’m Lt. Dekker and this is Sgt. Murdock. We’re detectives with the Hilldale Police Department.”

  Mrs. Reynolds, obviously irritated that two detectives had rung her doorbell, said, “I ain’t done nothing wrong,” and attempted to shut her door.

  “No one has said you did, Mrs. Reynolds,” I replied, as I reached and grabbed the door before she could shut it.

  “Well, then, why are you bothering me?”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, do you know Mrs. Nelson?”

  “Yeah. I knew her. What of it?”

  “Knew her, Mrs. Reynolds?”

  “Well, she’s dead, ain’t she?”

  “And how do you know that, Mrs. Reynolds?”

  “Someone told me.”

  “And would that someone be your son Jimmy?”

  “Leave Jimmy out of this,” the woman replied in a voice even louder and less friendly than before.

  “Mrs. Reynolds, when was the last time you saw Mrs. Nelson?”

  “Today.�
�

  “You went over to her house today?”

  “No, I saw your men drag her out. I wanted to see if they dropped her on the way down.”

  Lou tried hard not to smile. I could tell that he figured I had met my match.

  “And when was the last time you saw her prior to today?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a while.”

  “Did you know Mrs. Nelson had a fall?”

  “Is that what killed her?”

  “I’m talking about her fall a few days ago.”

  “Heard about that. So what of it?”

  “And have you seen her since?”

  “No.”

  “No? No visit to see how she was doing?” I asked, as I raised my eyebrows for emphasis.

  “She had someone to look in on her.”

  “And who was that?”

  “Miss Penrod, and Mr. Hartley the mailman, but I suppose you already knew that.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, did you have a key to Mrs. Nelson’s house?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure, Mrs. Reynolds? Someone told me they thought you had a key.”

  “Must have been that no good Mr. Silverman. He had a key, or at least his mother had one. Imagine he has it now.”

  I made a mental note that I must invite Mr. Silverman and Mrs. Reynolds to dinner on the same night. If I did, I could charge admission.

  “And where can I find Mr. Silverman’s mother?”

  “At the cemetery, I guess. That’s where they usually put people when they die. She died suddenly a couple of months ago. Imagine he killed her. Maybe he used her key to kill Mrs. Nelson, too.”

  “Back to you, Mrs. Reynolds. Are you sure you don’t have a key to Mrs. Nelson’s house?”

  “Used to. Don’t anymore. Gave it back to her.”

  “By her, do you mean Mrs. Nelson?”

  “No, I meant her grandmother. Of course, I meant Mrs. Nelson. Who did you think I meant?”

  “Well, you could have meant her granddaughter.”

  “Angela. She has a key. She’s probably the one that did it. Probably killed her to get all that money.”

  Totally perturbed with Mrs. Reynolds’s comments, I couldn’t resist my response.

  “Do you think she and Mr. Silverman did it together?”

  “Wouldn’t put it past them.”

  I noticed a small movement behind the door and realized that Jimmy hid behind dead trees as well as live ones.

  “What about Jimmy? Where’s he been today?”

  “Been here with me.”

  “All the time?”

  “Well, he was here when the old lady got murdered.”

  “Oh, and who told you she got murdered?”

  “I did.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, you might be of great help to us. I need to know the time of the murder.”

  “Sometime before they carried her out.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, I need to talk to Jimmy.”

  “I told you to leave him out of this.”

  “I just need to ask him a couple of questions.”

  “He isn’t here.”

  “He’s been with you all day, but he isn’t here now. Are you sure?”

  “Well, he’s too sick to talk right now.”

  “He’s not too sick to stand behind the door and listen to us. Let’s see how sick he is.”

  “No.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, we need to talk to Jimmy. Now, I can talk to him here, or I can take him downtown and talk to him. Whichever you think is better.”

  Mrs. Reynolds shrugged and realized that she couldn’t win. “Okay, but go easy on him.”

  Mrs. Reynolds motioned for Jimmy to come out. I looked at Jimmy and realized that he was not in the same world as everyone else.

  “Jimmy, I’m Lt. Dekker.”

  Jimmy snapped to attention, saluted, and said, “Yes, sir, Lieutenant, sir!”

  “Jimmy, do you know Mrs. Nelson?”

  Jimmy didn’t answer.

  “Jimmy, where have you been today?”

  “On maneuvers, sir!”

  “And Jimmy, did your maneuvers take you to Mrs. Nelson’s house today?”

  Again Jimmy did not answer.

  “Jimmy, where were you on maneuvers today?”

  “I was spying on the enemy, sir!”

  “And who’s the enemy, Jimmy?”

  “Everyone, sir!”

  “Please, Lieutenant. Don’t you think you’ve put the boy through enough?” asked his pleading mother.

  I stopped my questioning, but told Mrs. Reynolds that I might have more questions later. She quickly closed the door. I nodded at Lou and the two of us walked down the steps and back to the car. As we walked, we discussed Mrs. Reynolds’s disposition and wondered if she had always been that way or if it was a result of the trauma her son received in the war. At one time, she did have a key to Mrs. Nelson’s house, which led me to believe that the two women were on friendly terms. Yet none of Mrs. Reynolds’s neighbors had anything good to say about her. Is she merely a lonely old woman who has trouble handling her loneliness and her son’s illness, or is she someone to be feared?

  As Lou and I walked back to my car, both of us looked up at 125 Hilltop Place, and saw plywood covering a front window, a front door that was once again locked, and the yellow tape that blocked the porch, yellow tape that read, “Crime Scene - Do Not Cross.”

  8

  Lou and I sat in the car, both of us deep in thought. Lou has known me long enough to be quiet when I’m quiet. He also knows I’m only quiet when I’m thinking, eating, or sleeping, although sometimes I’m quite noisy when I’m doing all three.

  I turned and glanced up and down Hilltop Place. Everything was quiet, peaceful, and elegant, much like the cover of a magazine enticing people to choose a bed-and-breakfast for their next vacation. I thought about the people we met that day. They were a strange group. Each of them sneaked up close enough to find out whatever he or she could about any of his or her neighbors, but hid in the shadows to keep from being discovered. Maybe they weren’t a strange group after all. Maybe they are like most everyone I’ve ever met. I thought of the ones I’d met who never seem to leave Hilltop Place, and then I contemplated those who invaded it from time to time. I struggled to find a murderer. All of them seemed too kind, frail, or stupid to fit the profile. And then I remembered all the kind, frail, or stupid murderers I’d helped convict over the years.

  I turned to Lou. It was time to compare notes. When he noticed me looking at him, he knew the game was on.

  “Well, Cy, what do you think?”

  “Well, it’s too early to tell, but from what we’ve found out so far, it seems like Angela Nelson has an alibi, since two people say she never entered the house until Officer Davis arrived. Also, Mr. Hartley appears to be in the clear, since he arrived at the house after Irene Penrod and left before she did, and resumed delivering his mail. And Mrs. Wilkens saw Mrs. Reynolds and Jimmy, and I’m not sure either of them had time to do it. Mrs. Wilkens and Mr. Silverman seem to give everyone an alibi, since one or both of them appear to have been on guard duty until after the old lady was murdered. But of course you and I both know that things are not always as they seem. Who knows? Maybe one or both of them were merely providing an alibi for himself or herself. Then there’s the grocery boy. When did he enter the house, or did he? But Mrs. Wilkens seems to rule him out too, because his car wasn’t on the street earlier. Of course, he could’ve had an accomplice bring the getaway car.”

  The fact that Mrs. Wilkens had stood guard seemed to eliminate all the suspects but one. After all, no one entered or left Mrs. Nelson’s house after Irene Penrod left. That made things too simple. Usually solving a murder is not that simple. But then maybe that’s what Irene Penrod wanted us to think. Why did she leave town so soon? But then, if Irene Penrod wasn’t the murderer, how could she have known she was leaving so soon? And did she leave someone behind when she left home?

  Lou and I quick
ly decided to talk to everyone who had a key to Mrs. Nelson’s house, as well as anyone who was rumored to have a key. This meant there would be further talks with Angela Nelson, Stanley Silverman, and Mrs. Reynolds, as well as first-time talks with Irene Penrod, when we could locate her; Mrs. Murphy, the maid; Bobby, the grocery boy; Harry Hornwell, Mrs. Nelson’s attorney; and Mr. Hartley, the mailman. Also, we hoped to locate Mabel Jarvis, the wheelchair-bound neighbor, and see if she could contribute anything that would help us to find Mrs. Nelson’s killer. That is, provided there was a killer. I hoped to hear something from Frank soon, but then sometimes it takes medical examiners a while to sort their evidence.

  The next day was Sunday. It would be more difficult to question some of the people on our list, so Lou and I decided to put off further questioning until Monday. We agreed to spend Sunday going through Mrs. Nelson’s house to see if we could find any clues we might have missed earlier. Neither of us liked working on Sundays, and we never did unless we were in the middle of a murder case that warranted immediate attention, and both of us felt that this case warranted immediate attention.

  I dropped off Lou at his apartment and headed home. After the day we had, both of us deserved some much-needed rest.

  +++

  Neither Lou nor I are married. A long time ago, I used to be married, but I wasn’t married long enough. Eunice and I spent five happy years together before she died of cancer. Cops are supposed to be tough, but sometimes I wondered how I was going to be able to make it by myself. Eunice and I were very much in love. Yes, cops are capable of love. Not only was it tough to live without her, it was tough to live by myself. For weeks I cried when I woke up each morning and looked over at the vacant side of the bed. It was just as tough coming home to an empty house each night. I made excuses to work as late as possible, so I wouldn’t have to spend much time at home. I don’t think I would’ve been able to make it without my faith in God and help from Lou and some of my other friends with the department.

  Lou has never married, but he has been dating the same woman for quite a few years. Thelma Lou Spencer is quite a gal. Lou and Thelma Lou are quite a pair. I wonder why they don’t just go ahead and get married. I often wonder if Lou is afraid of losing a wife the way I did. Or has he lived by himself so long that it would be too hard to change? Sometimes Lou and I double date. Betty McElroy and I are good friends, but Betty’s a widow, and still in love with Hugh, just as I am with Eunice. Both of us are there for the other one for an occasional evening out with the opposite sex. I call Betty if I need a woman’s opinion about something, and she calls me when she needs something fixed. I’m always able to recommend a good repairman.