1 52 Steps to Murder

by Steve Demaree

  +++

  The bachelor sergeant always stayed up as late as he wished. Lou had lived by himself all of his adult life. He had no one to check with. His actions inconvenienced no one. Much like my life, Lou’s life revolved around his work. Other than when we worked or ate together, Lou spent most of his time by himself unless he and Thelma Lou were out on a date. Many people told him he should get a dog or a cat for company, but he didn’t feel the need for company, nor did he know how long a particular case would keep him away from home. Besides, he had no desire to go outside in a blinding snowstorm just because some dog wanted to go, nor did he want to change a smelly litter box. He didn’t want to move, either, which he would have to do if he owned a pet. His building didn’t allow pets. Goldfish excluded.

  +++

  I dropped Lou at his apartment, then thought about him all the way home. But once I reached my home turf, my thoughts turned to what I planned to do.

  I smiled as I entered the house. Not only did I arrive a little earlier than the night before, but I felt we’d made a little headway in the case, though not as much as I would’ve liked. Besides, we’d enjoyed a good meal, and I didn’t need to open a can of anything in order to eat.

  As I said before, for a while after my wife’s death, I made excuses to stay away from home. I buried myself in any case that came up and started eating all of my meals out. It helped that my partner and good friend had no one, either, so we started eating most meals together. Occasionally, each of us ate some type of pastry at home for breakfast, opened a can of something, or fixed a frozen dinner after we returned home from working on another case. However, neither of us did this unless a hunger emergency occurred unexpectedly. I like to eat with Lou. He never tries to tell me what is or isn’t good for me, because his appetite and waistline closely resemble mine. Betty McElroy doesn’t try to tell me how to eat, either, even though her waist bears no resemblance to mine. She isn’t a nag and is good company, so I enjoy eating out with her, too.

  +++

  I ambled over to my easy chair, picked up the remote. While there are many liabilities from living the single life, not having to share a remote control is one of the benefits. It felt good to leave the rigors of work behind, and I knew that Lucy, Ricky, Ethel, and Fred always made me feel even better. I was a tired cop that night, so I inserted a DVD, pushed the button on my remote, settled back. By the time I called it a night, I’d watched four episodes of I Love Lucy, including the pilot, where Lucy donned a costume and replaced a clown who got hurt rehearsing for an appearance in Ricky’s night club act. In addition to the pilot, which never aired on television until 1990, I watched the first three episodes of the show, all of which originally aired in October 1951. I laughed when Ethel taught Lucy how to play poker in two hours. Lucy, who wanted to become pals with Ricky, went to Fred and Ethel’s apartment and beat the guys at poker. As I stopped the DVD for the night, I remembered an episode I had seen on television where Lucy wore a yellow raincoat. Whenever Lucy tried to hide her identity, she was guilty of something. Did that mean whoever Stanley Silverman saw wearing a yellow raincoat was guilty of one murder and possibly two?

  I let the question slosh around in my brain for a few minutes, then let it rest. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, changed into blue-and-white flannel pajamas, and called it a night. I was just getting used to those flannels again, as the weather had just begun to change.

  18

  Tuesday morning the alarm went off and jarred me from a comfortable sleep. While I still sported the aches and pains that came with age and a much too unhealthy appetite, my legs felt a little better. As I showered and got ready to pick up Lou, I began to focus on the case. I couldn’t wait to hear Lou’s latest revelation from God and its bearing on our investigation of Mrs. Nelson’s murder. Still, I couldn’t see how today’s message could be as much fun as “twist and shout.”

  Before I left to pick up the sergeant, I called Sam Schumann. I hoped that after he and I talked, things would begin to fall into place. From the greeting I received, I assumed he was in a rare mood.

  “This is Sam I Am dining on green eggs and ham.”

  I laughed.

  “So, my friend, Sam You Are, what do you have for me so far?”

  “Well, Cy, I haven’t been able to find out yet if Angela Nelson inherits her grandmother’s estate. I’ll keep checking on that.”

  “Please do, Sam.”

  “I also had no luck finding anyone who had bought any codeine.”

  “What are we paying you for? Did you find out anything?”

  “Of course, I did, Cy. I’m saving the good stuff for last.”

  “Well, it’s last, Sam. What do you have?”

  “Well, I can’t give you any more information yet, but Harry Hornwell, the attorney, bought both of those houses you asked me to check on.”

  “How interesting.”

  Sam Schumann continued and filled me in on what he had learned about Jimmy Reynolds and Stanley Silverman. Jimmy was discharged from the army because he had a mental breakdown. Many people knew that, but what they didn’t know was that Jimmy used a shovel to whack another soldier in the back of the head. Word is that Jimmy thought the other soldier was his enemy. It wasn’t the only time Jimmy’s paranoia and strength got him in trouble. As for Jimmy’s mother, she has never been the toast of the neighborhood. Her neighbors feel she can’t be trusted.

  “Cy, the smart money says Jimmy pushed Mrs. Nelson down some stairs, but we can’t prove it. She claimed she merely missed a step and fell. I checked at the hospital. They said she could’ve fallen or been pushed, but she was not beaten by a blunt instrument. Her injuries were consistent with injuries an elderly person might suffer after falling down a flight of steps.”

  Not having any more information about Mrs. Nelson’s fall, Sam told me what he found out about Stanley Silverman. He never made a lot of money, but Stanley didn’t have to make a lot of money. He became wealthy when his mother died. Sam also told me the word was that Stanley dedicated the entire third floor of his house as a shrine to his mother. He decorated it with her favorite furniture, and the jewelry she loved so much. Supposedly, the first thing each morning and the last thing each night he climbs the steps to the third floor, lights candles, and sits around focusing on pictures of his mother.

  “You have some strange birds on that street, Cy.”

  “So it seems.”

  “Oh, I have something else for you. I understand that the old lady’s house had a sliding bolt.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, a strong magnet can slide that sucker and unlock it.”

  “Really? So anyone who had a key to the front door could get in if he or she knew about the magnet.”

  “That’s right, Cy. I doubt if a lot of people know the trick, but it works. I hope this helps you.”

  “I’ll be on the lookout for strange people with big magnets. Before I let you go, Sam, I’ve got some other people I want you to check on.”

  “I was afraid of that, Cy. Shoot.”

  “Harry Hornwell wasn’t too talkative yesterday. See what else you can find out about him. He claims he was out of town at his cabin over the weekend. Check and see if he has a cabin and try to find out if anyone saw him there over the weekend. Also, see what you can come up with about a mailman named Fred Hartley. One more, Sam. Check up on Mrs. Nelson’s maid, a woman named Murphy who lives on Magnolia. I think she’s all right, but I want to be sure.”

  “Is that all?”

  “That’s it for now, Sam.”

  “You’re not being any easier on me today than you were yesterday, Cy. I’ll see what I can find out. Talk to you in the morning.”

  +++

  I emerged from my house and groaned as I saw Heloise Humphert and Twinkle Toes out for their morning walk. Suddenly, my bad side envisioned a different version of twist and shout. I saw myself twisting my neighbor’s neck and shouting for joy. I quickly regained my senses and r
ecalled that not only does God want me to love my neighbor as myself, but He wants me to love my enemies. Does that mean I have to love that woman twice as much, since she is both a neighbor and an enemy? I wondered if it would be all right with God if I despised myself like I despised my neighbor. I pondered that but couldn’t recall any scripture that would allow that. I remembered that I had heard prison food isn’t nearly as good as what the Blue Moon Diner serves. I decided to try to tolerate The Wicked Witch and her version of Toto.

  As I contemplated my task, I looked up as my neighbor sashayed toward me. Then, I looked down and noticed that both the woman and her pet were adorned with the same color of nail polish. It was some shade of blue, and I was sure it glowed in the dark. I became thankful that I had not yet eaten.

  “Good morning, Cyrus. Have we caught our murderer yet?”

  “Oh, did someone kill us?”

  “Oh, Cyrus, you know what I mean by ‘our murderer.’”

  “I wasn’t aware that we were working on a case together.”

  “I wasn’t, either, but I’m ready anytime you are.”

  I shuddered, then continued.

  “The answer to your question is ‘no.’ We haven’t caught our murderer yet, but we have him under surveillance. We think it’s the man who moved into the house behind yours. Wherever he has lived, he has had a habit of sneaking over the back fence in the dead of night and killing all the women and dogs in the house behind his. You might want to get out while you can.”

  “I feel very confident that you’ll protect me, Cyrus,” Heloise Humphert said as she paused for effect and gave herself a hug. “I have an idea. Why don’t you come over to my house and keep watch through the window?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Humphert, but I can’t. I haven’t had my shots yet.”

  Miss Humphert laughed her grating laugh. She always took my comments as humor, rather than put-downs.

  +++

  Lou was waiting for me when I pulled up. I could tell from the smile on his face that God must have given him a good clue for that day. He lingered at the car door before he opened it, thus prolonging my agony.

  “Just open the door and get in, or I’ll go get some breakfast without you.”

  Not sure whether I would do that or not, Lou opened the door and slid down onto the seat.

  “Morning, Cy.”

  “I’ll morning, Cy, you. Okay, out with it. What’s today’s clue?”

  Lou ignored my question. “I think I’ll get pancakes with whole strawberries and plenty of whipped cream on top. Of course, I’ll have to get something else to go with it.”

  “Out with it, or I’ll fix you up with Heloise Humphert.”

  “I thought she was your girl, Cy.”

  “I think she’s using me to get to you, Lou.”

  “Remember, Cy. She bought the house next door to you. She didn’t move into my building.”

  “Could she help it if there were no vacancies in your building? Besides, I don’t believe your building allows pets.”

  “That’s good. Remind me not to move.”

  “I think she should advertise. I can see her ad now. ‘Let Heloise Humphert give you some comfort.’”

  “Did she send you off with a kiss this morning, Cy?”

  “Is my face broken out?”

  The two of us laughed.

  “You’d better tell me God’s message, or I’ll get her for you or someone who’s her spitting image.”

  “You’d never be able to do that, Cy. No one can spit like Heloise.”

  “Back to the matter at hand, or I’ll advertise on the Internet. ‘Robust cop looking for a relationship with a woman who can disarm a mugger.’”

  “Maybe you should make it ‘robust dog-loving cop.’ It will increase your chances of hearing from your neighbor.”

  “Okay, enough time wasted. Am I going to give Heloise your phone number or are you going to tell me today’s clue?”

  “Okay, Cy. You win. Today’s message is ‘Hogan’s contact.’”

  “Do what?”

  “I said today’s message is Hogan’s contact.”

  “Hogan who?”

  “Hogan who? You’re the one with all the DVDs. My guess is we’re talking Hogan’s Heroes here.”

  “But who’s Hogan’s contact? Are we going to meet some blonde with a foreign accent?”

  “With our luck I’d say we’re going to meet some overweight dumb sergeant.”

  “I’ve already met him.”

  “Watch yourself, Cy. Just remember anytime you look at me it’s just like you’re looking in the mirror.”

  “Tell me, Lou. How come God gives you the clue each day instead of giving it to me? After all, I outrank you.”

  “I’ll admit you are pretty rank when you forget to shower.”

  “Watch it. So how come He gives you the clue. He could at least rotate between us.”

  “Beats me. Could it be that you’re not on speaking terms with Him?”

  “No, I speak to Him every day.”

  “Yeah, but do you take time to listen to Him? Could be He’s giving you clues, too, only you’re too busy telling Him how to run things and forget to listen to Him.”

  I changed the subject.

  “Pancakes with whole strawberries and lots of whipped cream, you say?”

  “That’s right. I hear that they’re good for you when you’re wracking your brain.”

  “You try that, Lou. I think I’ll try the pecan waffles and a boatload of bacon.”

  +++

  As I drove to the Blue Moon, Lou gave me his second book review. For his second selection, he chose one of his childhood favorites, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. The book inspired Lou. It make him want to go and do likewise, Lou Murdock style. Considering how poorly he did in wood shop class, he figured anything he put together would sink before it sailed, and the Mississippi was a mighty deep river. He planned to choose safer waters.

  Lou told me that he envisioned the two of us mounted upon inflatable rubber rafts as we made our way across the pool at the Holiday Inn. As he pictured the two of us on our excursion, he wondered how much weight those inflatable rafts would hold. Did they have a heavy-duty model?

  As Lou recalled his daydream, he shared a secret. He planned to get me to mount my craft first. I weighed eleven pounds more than he did. If I made it, he figured he would be okay, too. But what if I wouldn’t agree to be the guinea pig? The sergeant had a back-up plan. Any good sergeant does. He determined to get up early before anyone flocked to the kiddie pool so he could try out his vessel to see if it was seaworthy. If not, he wouldn’t have far to sink. And what was a pair of wet swimming trunks, anyway?

  19

  Lou and I ate, let our food settle, and then chatted about the case while I drove to our new home away from home, Hilltop Place. I shared with Lou all the information Sam had given me. I pulled the car into the driveway at the Nelson house, and both of us stepped out. It had been only three days since fear struck our faces as we contemplated our first trip to the summit.

  “Lou. I’ll wait here while you go check and see what’s new.”

  “Why don’t I wait here? All that bacon you ate needs an opportunity to move around.”

  We laughed and both of us realized that the house wouldn’t move any closer to us no matter how long we waited. Lou and I walked over to the steps, grabbed the railing for assistance. A few minutes later we had conquered the climb.

  “You know, Cy, this climbing is turning into a piece of cake.”

  “A piece of cake sounds good to me, Lou. You say you’ve got some with you?”

  I reached into my pocket and removed the key to the Nelson house. I slid it into the lock, turned the key, and pushed on the door. The door opened easily. Apparently, no one had entered the house since we had left it the day before. Either that, or whoever it was decided not to play games with us this time.

  “Any ideas, Lou?”

  “Well, most tunnels I know are un
derground. What say we try the basement.”

  My face broke into a wide grin.

  “Did I say something funny, Cy?”

  “No, but I think we have an answer to our clue of the day.”

  “We do.”

  “Maybe. Col. Hogan’s contact was someone from the underground. He and his men also dug tunnels. Could be this is our lucky day, my friend?”

  In our excitement, both of us tried to get through the doorway at the same time.

  After our initial failure, Lou stepped back and let me go first.

  “After you, your majesty.” .

  “No, after you. God gave you the clue, not me.”

  We hustled through the kitchen and lunged for the basement door. We opened the door, turned on the light, and crept down the stairs. After a few minutes of looking through the basement with a proverbial magnifying glass, we wondered if there was another Hogan other than the one on the classic TV show.

  I walked over and plopped down on the third step from the bottom. I reached into my pocket and removed a candy bar. Lou knew that I was upset because I ate three almonds in one bite. I didn’t even let the chocolate melt in my mouth. Lou heard each crunching bite. He wanted to add a little levity to the moment, so he removed a bag of M&Ms from his coat pocket, carefully selected one morsel from the package, and licked it before he returned it to the same package. Then, he walked over to me.

  “M&M, Cy?”

  I put my hand out and pushed my friend away. Then, I stood up and started to sing Twist And Shout. A few moments before a possible coronary, I sat back down on the third step from the bottom, and said, “Anything to give the bacon a little exercise.”

  After a good laugh, the two of us trudged up the steps to think of Plan B.

  A few minutes later Lou broke the silence.

  “Where else can it be, Cy?”

  “My guess is under the house. How about if we buy two shovels and dig in the back yard? I’d say in a few weeks we’ll find it.”

  “Do you think we might get there sooner if we start in China?”

  “I’ll start here. You start in China, and I’ll meet you in the tunnel.”