by Parnell Hall
“The meeting’s ten o’clock?”
“That’s right.”
“And the heirs will be there?”
Cora Felton jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of Annabel Hurley’s apartment.
“All but her.”
Phyllis Applegate was fit to be tied. “Again?” she sputtered. “You’re doing this again?”
“I beg your pardon,” Chief Harper said coldly, and tried not to stare. Phyllis Hurley Applegate’s print dress was entirely unbecoming, made her look like Philip Hurley in drag. With her brother sitting right across the table from her, the effect was disconcerting at best. “It’s not like I was boring you with trivialities,” Harper went on. “This is murder.”
“That’s what you always say,” Phyllis whined. “Then it turns out to be an accident.”
“Wrong,” Chief Harper said. “It’s just the other way around. The first death—Jeff Beasley’s—could have been an accident, but turned out to be murder. This time there’s no doubt. Annabel Hurley had her throat cut. It’s violent, it’s personal, and this time it’s one of you.”
Chief Harper glanced around Arthur Kincaid’s law office hoping for a friendly face, but aside from Sherry and Cora and Aaron Grant and Becky Baldwin, all he saw was shock and annoyance. Obviously, none of Annabel Hurley’s relatives knew her well. There was considerable grumbling and shuffling of feet.
Chief Harper sighed. “I know you haven’t had time for this to sink in. But there’s a lot of money at stake here. And there’s a killer on the loose. And someone is targeting the Hurley heirs.”
“Oh, for goodness sakes,” Philip Hurley scoffed.
“You don’t buy that?” Chief Harper countered. “Well, think about it. Jeff Beasley starts nosing around the Hurley heirs: he winds up dead in a ditch. Next, Annabel Hurley winds up dead with her throat cut. And you’re all involved in some no-holds-barred, winner-take-all extravaganza for millions of dollars. Has it occurred to any of you, with Annabel Hurley out of the running, your chances of winning just went up?”
“She wasn’t even playing.” It was the first time Daniel Hurley had spoken since the meeting began.
Chief Harper’s eyebrows raised. “How do you know that?”
Becky Baldwin, standing next to Daniel Hurley’s chair, said, “Daniel, you should be careful what you say.”
“Why?” Daniel said. “Facts are facts. And the fact is, she wasn’t playing.”
“How do you know?”
“She told me.”
“When?”
“Here again,” Becky said, “I’d like to caution you to think before you answer.”
Chief Harper frowned. “Miss Baldwin, are you attempting to act as Mr. Hurley’s attorney?”
“Since you ask, yes.”
“Fine,” Chief Harper said, dryly. “Will you then please advise your client Mr. Hurley that if he declines to answer my questions, I will be forced to arrest him on a charge of obstruction of justice, or perhaps suspicion of murder, and then we will continue this conversation in jail, and, yes, of course, I will read him his rights before I clap him behind bars.”
Chief Harper sighed again. “But there’s no reason this should come to that. Because I’m sure Daniel didn*ni
019;t kill his aunt.” He frowned. “Is that the relationship? I can’t keep these Hurleys straight. Would she be your aunt?”
“Can I answer that?” Daniel Hurley asked Becky Baldwin. Then, without waiting for her reply, he proceeded to do so. “She’s not my aunt. She’s my first cousin, once removed. She was my father’s cousin. My grandfather and her mother were brother and sister.” He shrugged. “I hope that’s not giving away too much.”
“And when exactly did she tell you she wasn’t playing the game?” Chief Harper asked.
“That would be last night, when she stopped by my bed-and-breakfast shortly after dinner.” Daniel smiled at Becky Baldwin. “Which he will find out anyway the minute he questions my landlady, who happened to have let her in.”
“She came to call on you?”
“She certainly did.”
“Why?”
“Maybe she liked my looks.”
Chief Harper scowled. “Young man, this isn’t funny.”
“I know it isn’t.” Daniel Hurley glanced around the room, saw that the faces regarding him were decidedly hostile. “You got your work to do, and I’m holding up the game. Why did she call on me? You mean me instead of the other relatives? For one thing, she lived nearby.”
“Daniel,” Becky Baldwin warned.
“Well, she did. Which he can also find out.”
“Yes,” Becky said. “But not that you knew it.”
“Nonsense,” Daniel Hurley said. “She told me she lived a couple of blocks away. Exactly where, I don’t know, because I didn’t go there and kill her. But somewhere nearby.”
“And what did she ask you?”
“About the puzzle.”
“What about the puzzle?”
“Exactly. That’s what she wanted to know. What I knew about the puzzle. She wasn’t playing, she thought it was foolish, and she wanted to know if I had any idea why Emma had done it. As if I’d know—I never met Auntie Emma in my life. But she wanted to know if I’d learned anything from my father—if he knew anything about Emma and crossword puzzles, dating back to when they were kids. Annabel and my father, I mean. The point was, as a kid, she wasn’t aware Emma was into crosswords, so where does this forty-year-old puzzle come from?”
“And that was all she wanted to know?”
“That was it. Plus what I thought of my other relatives.”
“Which was?”
“Oh, I had nothing but praise,” Daniel deadpanned. “Anyway, she left shortly after that.”
“Which was?”
“Around nine, nine-thirty at the latest. When did she die?”
“We’re still waiting on the medical report. So, any of the rest of you see Annabel Hurley last night?”
None of the heirs spoke up.
“We saw her last night,” Cora Felton said sweetly. “She stopped by the Wicker Basket where my niece and I were having dinner. She told me she was suspicious of her relatives, and asked me to make sure Emma Hurley hadn’t been murdered.”
There was a shocked silence. Chief Harper scowled. Having dismissed the theory in no uncertain terms, he hardly expected Cora to bring it up now.
Still, it was having an effect on the heirs. Philip Hurley looked like he’d been caught trying to sell someone a used car with no engine. “She said what?” he sputtered. “You expect me to believe that?”
“My niece was at the table,” Cora reminded him placidly. “You can ask her. As a matter of fact, Annabel singled out you and your sister as being capable of murder. She said you were furious at Emma for throwing you out of the house.”
“That’s preposterous,” Phyllis Hurley Applegate snarled. “Emma threw Philip out, not me.”
“And you left of your own accord,” Philip said witheringly. “Yes, we’ve all heard that story. But if there’s anybody capable of murder it’s you, Sis. How many husbands have you killed?”
For a split second Phyllis Applegate faltered. Then she was back in full snarl. “This is hardly the time for that old joke.”
“Joke?” Philip Hurley said. “I doubt if your husbands thought it was funny. They’re both dead, aren’t they?”
“Of natural causes. I can’t believe you could be so low.” Phyllis gestured to her husband. “Look at Morty. We’ve been married seven years, and there he sits.”
“What’s the matter? Wouldn’t he take out insurance?”
“That’s it, Philip! The kid gloves are off,” Phyllis said. “We all know if anyone killed Emma, it’s you.”
“Fine. You just investigate that, Officer. I wish you would. You’ll find I wasn’t even in town when Emma died.”
“Would that stop you from sending poison chocolates in the mail?”
“Pois
on, what a novel idea, Sis. Where’d you get it? Wasn’t that how your husbahow;
“Vinnie died of food poisoning.”
“Vinnie died of someone poisoning his food.”
Phyllis Hurley Applegate lunged from her chair.
Philip Hurley leaped from his.
They squared off, jaw to jaw.
Daniel Hurley grinned. “Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen. Which twin would you back? I got ten bucks on Auntie Phyllis. Any takers?”
Chief Harper frowned. He was happy enough to sit back and let the heirs accuse themselves, but he wasn’t about to witness a fight. “That will do,” he said. “You want to tear each other apart, you wait till I leave. Right now I’m interested in this game. And my interest comes first, because, guess what? If I decide this little contest is interfering with a police investigation, I’m not going to let you play.”
“Oh, come on!” Phyllis cried.
Philip looked wounded. “You can’t mean that.”
“But I do. I’m willing to let the game continue, but under very strict guidelines. So let’s answer a few questions I want answered, and then we’ll see what’s what. First off, you two sit down.”
Phyllis and Philip reluctantly sank back into their chairs.
“Now then,” Chief Harper said, looking around the room. “I notice Chester Hurley is not here. Is anybody else missing—any of the heirs? I’m not talking about the housekeeper and the yard boy. I mean the ones playing the game.”
Arthur Kincaid said, “I think they’re all here. Let’s see. Philip and Ethel Hurley. Phyllis and Morton Applegate. And Daniel Hurley. Yes, that would be all. There were five playing the game. That is, five individuals or teams. Take away Annabel and Chester leaves three. The two teams and Daniel.”
“So only Chester is missing. Has anyone seen him this morning?”
No one had.
“Did you inform him of this meeting?”
“I called him yesterday afternoon,” Arthur Kincaid said. “I must say, he didn’t seem impressed.”
“What do you mean?”
“If he’d cared, you wouldn’t have known it. I’m not surprised he isn’t here. He made no secret of the fact he thinks the game’s stupid.”
“Uh huh,” Chief Harper said. “But the rest of you—since you’re here, can I assume that you’ve solved the puzzle?”
“I certainly have,” Phyllis Applegate said pplme thsmugly. “And I want the next part.”
“Not before me,” Philip Hurley said. “I solved it first.”
Chief Harper ignored this exchange. He turned to Daniel Hurley. “And how about you, young man? Have you solved it too?”
Daniel tilted his chair back, grinned. “As a matter of fact, I have. Which surprised me. I wasn’t even going to work on it. But when it turned out we had all night to do it—and when Annabel made such a fuss about it—I figured, all right, why not take a crack? So, I think I solved it. Anyway, I’m here, and I’m ready for the next lap. So let’s have the puzzle.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Philip Hurley said. “It’s bad enough we gotta wait all night to get the damn puzzle, but there’s no way you’re giving it to him first. I was the first one to call, I should be the first one to get the next set of clues.”
“Oh, sure,” Daniel said. “Like the extra minute’s really gonna help.”
“Exactly,” Philip Hurley said. “It’s totally unfair. I was the first one to solve this, and I’m the one getting dorked.” He leveled his finger at Cora Felton. “And it better not happen again. When I solve this piece, I don’t wanna hear, Come in at ten o’clock tomorrow morning to get the next. I wanna know right now how it’s gonna be.”
“Well,” Cora said, stepping forward. “Since you ask me so nicely, how can I refuse? So here’s your ruling. You take your puzzle piece, go away, work on it to your heart’s content. If you solve it, be back here at four o’clock this afternoon and you’ll get your next piece to work on. If you solve that, you’ll get your next piece tomorrow morning at ten.”
“Oh, come on,” Philip Hurley protested. “I can work faster than that.”
“Then you’ll have no problem being done,” Cora Felton told him.
“Yeah, but I get no credit for being first,” Philip Hurley griped. “This is absurd.” Philip was so exasperated he actually stamped his foot. “What is the point of solving the puzzle first, if everyone else is allowed to catch up?”
Cora Felton drew herself up, but before she could retort, Daniel Hurley said, “Where are they?”
“I beg your pardon?” Cora asked.
Daniel smiled. “Where are the puzzle clues? You tell us you’re about to hand out the second set of puzzle clues, and everyone accepts that calmly as a matter of course, but yesterday—please correct me if I’m wrong—yesterday there was only one set of puzzle clues. The ones we’re turning in now. And now you’re about to give us a second set. I’d like to know where they came from.”
“They come from me,” Cora told him. “Thatm19;s my job. As judge, I was entrusted with the responsibility of getting the clues and giving them out.”
“Without telling us where?” Daniel Hurley said. “I must admit, I solved the puzzle too late last night to do anything, but this morning I stopped by the courthouse on my way over here, and you know what, the judge wouldn’t let me in. Rather cranky about it too. So I’m just wondering if any of the rest of you might have happened to drop by.”
“Well, you can stop wondering,” Cora said. “And I’ll give you a little hint. Going by the courthouse is not going to help you. Neither is going by any other location disclosed in the puzzle.” She shot a glance at Aaron Grant. “And I am counting on no mention of any particular location appearing in the press.”
“Let me second that,” Chief Harper said. “Aaron, you may have been invited, but you have no legal right to be here. Any irresponsible reporting on anything you should inadvertently learn, and you will not be at the next meeting. Is that clear?”
“As crystal,” Aaron said.
“Well, I hope it’s as clear to the heirs,” Cora said. “But let me spell it out. There is no reason to visit any location suggested by the second part of the puzzle. It will not help you. Don’t waste your time.”
“Fine, can we have the puzzle now?” Philip Hurley demanded.
“Yeah,” Phyllis Applegate pressed forward. “Where’s the new clues?”
“I have the new clues,” Cora Felton said. She smiled. “And I may or may not give them to you, depending on how well you did on the first set. Because I’m the judge, and what I say goes.”
Cora looked around the table to make sure that registered.
“Fine,” she said. She reached in her drawstring purse, took out a manila envelope. “Now then. Who wants to show me their grid?”
Aaron Grant sidled up to Sherry as the meeting broke up. “Wanna take a ride?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Where to?”
“Tell you outside.”
Sherry looked at the front of the room, where Cora Felton was handing out clue sheets to the heirs. It was not going smoothly: Philip and Phyllis were still squabbling over who went first, much to the amusement of Daniel Hurley, who stood with hands on hips, quietly waiting his turn. Becky Baldwin, Sherry noted, was glued to his side.
“I’ve got to check with my aunt,” Sherry told Aaron. “How long will this take?”
“Not long. I’ll drop you off at home. Come o#x201C;Hown. Slip her the high sign, and let’s get out of here.”
Sherry caught Cora Felton’s eye, waved, pointed to Aaron and herself, waved bye-bye, and mouthed, “See you at home.”
From the look on Cora Felton’s face, Sherry might have told her there was no room in the last lifeboat. Sherry pretended not to notice, and followed Aaron out the door.
They got downstairs just in time to see Chief Harper drive off.
“Gonna follow him?” Sherry said.
“Depends on where he
goes.”
“Where are we going?”
“You know where Chester Hurley lives?”
“No.”
“I do. Come on.”
Sherry got in Aaron’s car and the two of them pulled out.
“What’s the idea?” Sherry said.
“You happen to see this morning’s paper?”
“Didn’t get a chance.”
“That’s not good,” Aaron said. “Every Bakerhaven resident should start the day with the Bakerhaven Gazette.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. I’ve been a little busy, what with finding a corpse.”
“That’s a pretty poor excuse. There’s a copy on the backseat. Take a look.”
Sherry undid her seat belt, turned, and retrieved the paper. She resnapped the seat belt, flipped the paper open.
The headline was HURLEY WILL CONTEST.
“Like it?” Aaron asked. “I came up with that. Will contest. Neat double meaning, huh? I mean, the heirs often contest the will, but this is an actual contest. Too bad I don’t have the inside dope on the clues.”
“Too bad you’re not gonna get ’em,” Sherry said.
Aaron winced. “Now, that’s no attitude. We’re having a nice drive here. We’re talking this over like two responsible adults.”
“Did you take me for a drive just to try to worm the clues out of me?”
Aaron Grant put up both hands. “Absolutely not.”
“Will you hold on to the wheel?” Sherry said.
“Sure thing,” Aaron said. “Will you hold on to your accusations?”
“Uh oh,” Sherry said. “I always know we’re in trouble when you start in on the wordplay.”
“I’m not starting in on anything. I’m trying to explain to you how it is. That headline is yesterday’s news. Will contest. It won out over the Beasley murder. For all the reasons I already gave. But not anymore. Tomorrow’s headline is HURLEY HEIR MURDERED. But you know what?” He shook his head. “Nobody will care. You know why? Suddenly it’s big news. It’s like the Graveyard Killings all over again. We’ll have TV crews in town, it’ll be on the evening news. By the time people get the paper tomorrow they’ll already know all about it.”