by Parnell Hall
Cora Felton looked at Arthur Kincaid. “What do you think?”
The lawyer shrugged. “When it’s final, I don’t see why not. But it’s not final yet, and Aaron probably shouldn’t see it till then.”
“Well, let me ask you something,” Aaron said. “Have you been solving the grid? Have you been working the puzzle? Has Cora Felton been giving you the clues?”
The lawyer shook his head. “No, she has not. She’s kept me apprised of the situation. But she has kept the clues entirely in her possession, given them only to the heirs. There’s no possibility whatsoever of any clues falling into the wrong hands.”
“And why is that?”
Kincaid smiled. “Because I’m an attorney. And because there’s a great deal of money involved. Because in a case like this, the first person I want to protect is me.”
“So,” Aaron said. “The only people who could possibly have the clues are the three sets of heirs who just left?”
“That’s correct.”
“And the next person to walk through that door will most likely inhst likelerit Emma Hurley’s fortune?”
“If they have a perfect grid.”
“Who would you bet on?” Aaron persisted. “If you had to pick right now, who would you bet on?”
Cora Felton frowned. “Hard to say. The way I’ve been playing it there’s no way to tell. Now, the first set of clues, Philip Hurley was first. Then Phyllis Applegate.”
“But that was before Daniel decided to play,” Sherry pointed out.
From out in the street came the sound of a vehicle approaching fast. Brakes squealed. Tires shrieked to a stop. An engine roared and died. A car door slammed.
Moments later, footsteps pounded up the stairs.
“Sounds like we have a winner,” Aaron commented. “Could they have finished it this fast?”
“I wouldn’t think so, but it could be,” Cora said.
But it wasn’t.
Instead, Chester Hurley slammed into the room. He was a sight, which was saying something, as Chester Hurley was always a sight. But even to Sherry Carter, who had seen him up close and holding a gun, the man looked particularly out of sorts. His eyes were wilder and brighter than usual, his scraggly hair more unkempt, his two-day growth bordered on three. His rotten teeth could scarcely look worse, but they did. Saliva welled up among them and drool dribbled down his chin.
“I’m through,” he snarled.
He shoved past them, stomped to the head of the table.
“I’m through with this stupid game.”
Chester Hurley raised up his right hand. In it was a piece of paper. He clenched his fist, shook it over his head.
“I don’t want this stupid puzzle. I didn’t want it then, and I don’t want it now. I took it because Emma wanted me to. But I don’t have to like it. And I’m turning it in.”
Chester Hurley slapped the paper down on the table, looked up, glared, and stabbed his finger at Cora.
“I’m serving notice on you. As of now, I am done. Over. Finished. Through with this wretched game. I didn’t understand it to begin with, and I don’t understand it now. I don’t know why Emma did this to me, and I’m angry, but there’s nothing I can do about it. All I know is it got Annabel killed, and if I can figure out why, I aim to do something about that.
“But as for this other thing.” Chester Hurley’s eyes flashed. “This puzzle that’s poison, that makes men kill. Or women, for that matter. I’m through with it, I give it back, there it lies. Do with it as you will.”
Chester Hurley glared at them all in turn, especially , especiCora, then shook his head.
“Stupid, stupid game,” he snarled, then banged past them out the door, and thundered down the steps.
Cora, Sherry, Aaron, and Arthur Kincaid heard the front door slam, then his old truck starting up. Even so, his performance had been so captivating it was moments before anyone could speak.
Finally, Sherry broke the silence. She turned to Aaron, and grinned. “Well,” she said. “You gonna write that up?”
“Somehow I doubt it,” he replied. “It’s an amusing sidelight, but that’s all. And I suspect this won’t be a slow news day.”
“Well, we knew Chester wasn’t playing the game,” Cora said, “but this makes it official. Rather over the top, turning in his grid. But right in character. Just what you’d expect from him.”
“At least he didn’t pull his gun,” Sherry said.
“Yeah,” Cora said. “Thank goodness for small favors.”
Chester Hurley’s grid was lying facedown on the table. Cora absently picked it up and turned it over. Her eyes widened.
“Sherry.”
Sherry was talking with Aaron and didn’t hear her.
“Sherry!”
Sherry heard her that time. “What?”
“Come here.”
“What is it?”
“Come. Here!”
Sherry joined her aunt at the head of the table. Cora was holding Chester Hurley’s grid.
The grid had been filled in in pencil.
Sherry gawked at the grid.
“Is it right?” Cora murmured.
“I think so.”
“What’s going on?” said Arthur Kincaid.
“What is it?” Aaron Grant asked.
Before Sherry or Cora could answer, there came a sickening screech of brakes from outside. A car door banged, and then the front door, and footsteps slammed up the stairs.
Sherry and Cora looked at each other. Reading each other’s thoughts, they shared the same unspoken question.
Which of the three heirs was about to come racing through the door with a completed puzzle, having left the othersft the o in the dust, and never dreaming he or she could possibly lose? Once again, it was none of them.
Dan Finley burst into the room. The eager young Bakerhaven police officer was out of breath from pelting up the stairs, but his face was animated, and his eyes were wide.
“There’s been another one!”
Chief Harper was grim. “You were at the Country Kitchen last night?”
“That’s right,” Cora Felton said.
“That’s where you saw the puzzle maker?”
“Constructor.”
“Huh?”
“They call themselves constructors.”
“And you do too.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You said they. But you’re one of them, aren’t you?”
Cora squirmed in her chair. “Hey, Chief, it’s me, Cora. What’s with the third degree? You drag me into your office, you won’t even let Sherry come in with me, you interrogate me, and then you pick on everything I say. Yes, I saw what’s-his-face at the Country Kitchen last night. How was I to know he was going to be assaulted?”
“He’s lucky he isn’t dead,” Chief Harper said. “Barney Nathan says an inch more to the left, and he wouldn’t be waking up.”
“He was hit with a pipe?” Cora perked up.
“He was hit with a blunt object. Just like Jeff Beasley. After leaving the Country Kitchen. After talking to you.”
“Are you making an inference?”
“No, I’m not. You’re not a suspect, you’re a witness. So try to be a cooperative one and do not play word games with me. I know that’s what you do for a living, but please do not do that now. So, Harvey Beerbaum approached you in the bar?”
“That’s right.”
“What time was this?”
Cora opened her mouth, closed it again. “Chief,” she said. “We don’t have time for this. Chester Hurley has completed his grid. The other heirs are working on theirs. They’ll be arriving at the lawyer’s any minute, wondering what’s going on. You’ve got me in here, you’ve got Sherry and Arthur Kincaid cooling their heels in the outer office, and what’s gonna happen when the next heir shows up and goes ballistic when he finds no one’s there?” p>
“Oh, I think we can handle it,” Chief Harper said. “I know this whole will contes
t is very important to you, Cora, but, frankly, a murder investigation is far more important. Now, it’s just taken a bit of a turn, which is good in a way, because it gives us a lead. And it’s even better, in that this time nobody died. Granted, it’s touch-and-go, but Barney thinks the guy will pull through.”
“You got a guard on his room?”
Chief Harper frowned. “Why?”
“Well, someone wanted him dead. I doubt if anything’s very much changed.”
“Oh, no? I thought you have a completed grid.”
“Yes, I do, but …”
“But what?”
“That was Chester Hurley’s.”
“Right. Not what you expected, but still a winner. My point is, if Beerbaum was assaulted because of the game, the game is over.” Chief Harper put up his hand. “Granted, that is an unfounded assumption. And, yes, I have a guard on his room. Now, could we get back to the questions that are important to me? You saw what’s-his-name—now you’ve got me doing it—you saw Harvey Beerbaum at the Country Kitchen last night. At approximately what time?”
“I would say around eight-thirty to nine o’clock.”
“You saw him in the bar?”
“That’s right.”
“Could you describe that meeting?”
“The bar was crowded. I had squeezed in to order a drink. What’s-his-name tapped me on the shoulder. Wanted to talk about the crossword puzzle.”
“The one the heirs were solving?”
“So he said.”
“And what did he know about that?”
“I don’t know, because I refused to discuss it with him.”
“Why?
“It was none of his business. He was an outsider, he had no right to ask me about it.”
“But if he knew about it …?”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“I’m not saying it was your fault. But if he knew about it, wouldn’t you want to know how he knew?”
“Not at all. Everyone in town knew about the puzzle game. It’s no secret. I don’t know how much he knch ew about it. And I didn’t want to know. I was at the Country Kitchen playing bridge. I just wanted to get my drink and get back to the game.”
“You remember exactly what he said?”
“Not word for word.”
“But it was about the puzzle? And he said it was important?”
“That’s my impression.”
“And were any of the heirs present at the time?”
“The bar was crowded. There could have been any number of them there. They all could have been there, for that matter.”
“But did you see any of them?”
“I saw Daniel Hurley.”
“And where was he?”
“Sitting at the bar.”
“Where you were standing?”
“Not where I was standing. A few stools down.”
“But close enough to have heard?”
“I don’t think so. In a crowded bar with all that noise.”
“But you don’t know?”
“How could I know? I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Aha. And did you see any of the other heirs in the bar last night?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Just Daniel Hurley?”
“Yes, just him. But the lawyer was there.”
“Arthur Kincaid?”
“Yes. He was in the bar.”
“With Daniel Hurley?”
“No. A few stools away.”
“So Daniel Hurley wasn’t with him?”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Was he with his lawyer? Was Becky Baldwin there?”
“No.”
“He was alone?”
“That’s right.”
“He was alone drinking in the bar when Harvey Beerbaum talked to you about the puzzle. Just as he was alone drinking in the bar the night Jeff Beasley was assaulted.”
“Are you making a connection, Chief?”
“No, just an observation.”
“Well, you’ll forgive me, Chief, but I think you’re off on the wrong track. I’d like to point out it was Chester Hurley who solved the puzzle. Without even having the clues.”
Chief Harper didn’t seem impressed. “He had the first set, didn’t he?”
“Yes. So?”
“Chester always was a strange cuss, went his own way. If he was one step ahead of you, I’m not surprised. I don’t suppose he was in the Country Kitchen last night too?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“No, and if he had been, I think you would. Chester Hurley’s hard to miss.” Chief Harper nodded. “Okay, that’s all for now. You wanna send in the lawyer?”
“You don’t want to talk to Sherry next?”
“Was she at the Country Kitchen last night?”
“No, she wasn’t.”
“And Arthur Kincaid was? Then I gotta talk to Arthur. Send him in.”
Cora Felton went back to the outer office of the police station where Sherry Carter and Arthur Kincaid were seated by one of the desks. They were alone in the office, as both Sam Brogan and Dan Finley were out investigating the assault.
“Okay, you’re next,” Cora told Kincaid. “I should warn you, he’s not in a great mood.”
Arthur Kincaid went into the office, closed the door.
“So, what’s up?” Sherry demanded. “Is he going after Chester?”
“No. He seems to want Danny Hurley.”
“How come?”
Cora Felton gave Sherry Carter a rundown of her interrogation.
“That’s awful,” Sherry said. “He’s missing the whole point.”
“Yes and no,” Cora said.
Sherry frowned.
“Someone knocked this guy out,” Cora explained. “It could be Daniel Hurley as well as anybody else.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think so,” Sherry said.
Cora snorted in exasperation. “There again, you’re going on nothing but the fact he’s young and good-looking. Which, trust me, doesn’t mean a thing. I’ng. Im not saying he did it, I’m just saying there’s no reason to cross him off the list.”
“Is that what you told Chief Harper?”
“No, I told Chief Harper it’s ridiculous, I don’t suspect him for a minute. And I don’t. But that’s no reason why you shouldn’t.”
“Aunt Cora, you’re making no sense.”
“Maybe not. Where’s Aaron?”
“He went back to the paper.”
“You tell him about your joyride with laughing boy?”
“It didn’t come up.”
“You ask him about his rendezvous with golden girl?”
“It didn’t come up.”
“A lot of things between the two of you don’t seem to be coming up.”
“Aunt Cora.”
“What do you think Chief Harper’s gonna say when he finds out Aaron left?”
Sherry shrugged. “He may not be pleased, but the fact is, he didn’t ask Aaron to stay. He’s got a story to write, there’s news crews right outside, and he doesn’t want to be left behind. So, Harper’s not looking for Chester Hurley?”
“Not that I know of. Why?”
“Well, how about the fact Harvey Beerbaum’s a constructor, and Chester Hurley had to get the answers from somebody?”
Cora shook her head. “Doesn’t fly. At least, not for Chief Harper. He’s not that surprised Chester cracked the puzzle.”
“Without the clues?”
“Chief Harper points out Chester had the first set of clues. He could have beat us to the rest.”
“Which he must have done,” Sherry mused. “But surely someone would have seen him. If he’d been in the post office and the laundromat …”
Cora Felton just smiled.
Sherry grimaced. “Of course. Annabel Hurley.” She shook her head. “That tears it. I’ve been so caught up in my personal life I’m not thinking clearly. But that’s why Annabel wasn’t playing the game. She was workin
g for Chester.”
“Exactly,” Cora said. “You got Annabel Hurley doing Chester Hurley’s legwork, then everything fits. She was in the post office and the laundromat, and she must have been in the courthouse too. She wasn’t hiding the clues for Emma Hurley, she was fetching the clues for Chester.”
“Then why wasn’t she at Odds and Ends?”
“Huh?”
“If she was everywhere else, then why wasn’t she there?”
“Because she got her throat sliced before she could get there.”
Sherry winced.
“Say Chester Hurley solves the last set of clues and gets five-and-ten,” Cora continued, in her Miss Marple mode. “So what happens then? Either he can’t figure out what that means, or he does but it’s too late and Odds and Ends is closed—we know that woman closes like clockwork—or he does, but to him five-and-ten means a different place. Which is what I’ve been afraid of all along, that we have the wrong store.”
Sherry shook her head. “We’ve been through the phone book. There is no other store.”
“I agree. It’s gotta be Odds and Ends. Mildred Sims went there. After talking to Chester Hurley. Which makes sense. With Annabel dead, he’d send another woman.”
“Yeah, but why?” Sherry objected. “What’s at Odds and Ends?”
“I don’t know. But the puzzle leads there.”
“Right,” Sherry said. “Which really bothers me. There’s something about the puzzle I don’t understand.”
“There’s a lot about the puzzle I don’t understand,” Cora retorted. She patted her drawstring purse. “Anyway, I got it right here. Whaddaya say we take a look?”
“I don’t see what good that will do. It is what it is.”
“Maybe,” Cora agreed. “But what’s-his-face, the puzzle guy, thought something was wrong. I’d like to know what he knew.”
There were a number of manila envelopes in Cora Felton’s bag. One had computer printouts of grids in various stages of completion. The others held the remaining copies of the clues that had been handed out. Cora pulled a paper from each envelope.
“Okay,” she said. “Here’s the first set, here’s the second set, here’s the third, and here’s the last. Let’s look them over, and see if there’s any—Well, will you look at that.”
“What is it?” Sherry said.
“We don’t have to go any further. It jumps out at you.”