2 Murder in the Winter

Home > Other > 2 Murder in the Winter > Page 4
2 Murder in the Winter Page 4

by Steve Demaree


  “Cy, my guess is the guy was poisoned, but I won’t know for sure until I do an autopsy. I think I’ll have another surprise for you, but I’ll wait until I get him back and have an opportunity to look him over. Mind if I take him now?”

  “The sooner the better. How long before you’ll know anything?”

  “Depends on what killed him. Hopefully sometime tomorrow or Sunday.”

  I nodded and Frank walked away. My guess had been that the victim was poisoned, and, if so, there would be a lot of work to do. A team was already at work in the kitchen. With the body removed, some men would check the food and utensils on the table. Maybe we’d luck out. Maybe Mycroft did have a heart attack, and I summoned the troops for no reason. Somehow, I didn’t think so. Time, and Frank Harris, would tell. A few minutes later, Frank and his silent new friend left the inn for the morgue.

  +++

  Items were labeled and removed from the table. All food, utensils, and everything in the kitchen would be checked for traces of poison. Another team would dust for prints, but because so many people were gathered in such a small area, the only place we held any hope of finding a second set of prints that might help us was Mycroft’s room. Everyone was hard at work except for Lou and me. I eased behind the counter and followed the path until I came to a door. I knocked and Longworth answered my knock. I informed him that I wanted to interrogate those who were present and asked for a room where I could do that quietly. Longworth questioned why I would need to bother his guests just because some man died of a heart attack. I convinced him that it was important. I offered to let him go first, so that he could see how painless it was. He picked up a key. We stopped off to secure Lou, and Longworth led the sergeant and me to a conference room located down the hallway. I remembered that he had neglected to mention a conference room when describing the inn’s virtues. Maybe I didn’t look like a conference room kind of guy. I wasn’t, but I was about to turn into one.

  As I walked down the hall behind the proprietor, I noticed his profile as he stared at my compatriots. I could tell that he didn’t think a passel of policemen were good for business. Murder wasn’t good for mine, so I’d cut him no slack.

  He reached a door, unlocked it, and we stepped inside. Couches lined the room. A metal serving cart stood in one corner. In the middle of the room stood a conference table surrounded by chairs, with enough room behind them to allow legroom for those seated on the couches, and a pathway for people to navigate from one end of the room to the other. Not wanting Longworth to be too comfortable, I motioned for him to take a seat at the table, and selected a chair next to him. I could tell he wanted to talk, but didn’t want to say anything that I would find helpful.

  On most of our cases, I ask the questions while Lou listens. Later, the two of us evaluate the information we’ve gathered. It was time to gather that information.

  “Mr. Longworth, tell me a little of the history of this magnificent structure.”

  “As you wish. In 1840, a Mr. Jacob Sudduth came to this area to visit a cousin. One day, when his cousin was otherwise occupied and he was feeling quite bored, he lit out on a carriage ride. He noticed what amounted to a road that headed away from town through the trees. Curious, he followed it. Surprisingly, the road kept going. There was no room to turn the carriage around, so Sudduth continued on the road. Some time later he began his descent to an old, wooden bridge. Across the bridge Sudduth noticed a log cabin. After testing the bridge and realizing that he still didn’t have enough room to turn around, Sudduth guided his horse across the bridge and dismounted to see the log cabin. He could tell the cabin had been deserted for quite some time. Sudduth was fascinated by the beauty of the place, and despite the fact that he had been gone for hours and his cousin might be worried about him, he walked around the precipice and studied the layout of the land. Sudduth was a wealthy man, and upon returning to his cousin’s home he learned that the property was for sale. Before he left he bought the property. He returned a short time later with Mrs. Sudduth and convinced her they should build a home on the property. As you can see, what was a home to Sudduth would be a castle to many. He began having stone brought in in 1843 and the house was completed and Sudduth moved in in 1848. Sudduth lived in the house only a few years before he died, and when his son William became of age, he took ownership of the property. Upon William’s death, the house passed on to his son Lee. Lee had no sons, but had three daughters. His daughter Elizabeth married Joseph Oppenheimer, and thus the house became known as the Oppenheimer estate.”

  “And how did you come to be a part of this edifice?”

  “Each descendant added his own touch to the structure. In the beginning, there was no swimming pool, etc. Only a library. But the exterior walls were conducive to adding to the mansion. Joseph Oppenheimer was a patron of the arts. He had an auditorium built with an emphasis on the performing arts. Mr. Oppenheimer wanted nothing to do with the performances other than to be a member of the audience. He had heard of my reputation and contacted me about directing plays in his theater. Like his ancestors before him, he too was quite wealthy and was willing to pay top dollar to attract the best performers. He trusted me with total control over a performance, and I auditioned performers for each play. Oppenheimer never charged a guest or made a dollar from any of his plays. His guests stayed and were fed at no charge to them. They paid only for their travel to the inn.”

  “And why did the performances cease?”

  “Mr. Oppenheimer’s health was declining. So was his wife’s. None of their children were interested in the inn, and so, with some regret, the Oppenheimers shut down the performances and moved away. That was several years ago. Mr. Oppenheimer lived longer than he expected, but when he died, I had an opportunity to come back here. I sank a lot of money into turning this place into an inn and hope someday to offer our guests plays and performances equal to what we had before.”

  “That’s fascinating! I know you’re excited about such an opportunity to go back and move forward doing what you love.”

  “Only the accoutrements needed to turn this mansion into an inn and the knowledge of operating an inn made me nervous. I learned from Mr. Oppenheimer. I did what he did. I hired the best people to tell me what I needed to do and to perform the tasks whose methods escape me.”

  “Now, let’s turn to matters at hand. What can you tell me about the deceased?”

  Longworth froze at the sudden change in conversation, but quickly regained his composure and answered my question.

  “He registered as Miles Mycroft from Missoula, Montana. He’s been here since yesterday morning and hadn’t bothered anyone. He was expected to stay until Monday.”

  “Had he been a guest here before?”

  “Lt. Dekker, the inn has been open only a week. We’ve had no repeat guests.”

  “Do you know the nature of his business in our area?”

  Longworth fidgeted in his seat, then answered my question.

  “I assume he came to enjoy the inn. He never left it, so I assume he had no business outside the inn.”

  “Did anyone come to the inn to see him?”

  “No.”

  “Did any of the other guests seem to know him?”

  Longworth squirmed again.

  “No one seemed to know Mr. Mycroft.”

  “Well, did anyone here recognize the deceased?”

  “I told you, Lieutenant, to the best of my knowledge no one here knew Mr. Mycroft.”

  “Did you eat breakfast with your guests?”

  “Yes, my wife and I dined with our guests this morning.”

  “And how did Mr. Mycroft seem at breakfast?”

  “From what I could ascertain, he was a little ill at ease, but not frightened.”

  “And how did you arrive at this conclusion?”

  “Just from things he said. He didn’t seem afraid of the other guests. It seemed more that he didn’t want anyone to know he was here than it was the fear of what the consequences might be i
f anyone found out.”

  I dismissed Longworth and instructed Lou to get Longworth’s wife.

  “So, Cy, I’m to be Archie Goodwin to your Nero Wolfe.”

  Lou referred to the fact that Nero Wolfe seldom left his home and Archie Goodwin ran Wolfe’s errands and brought people to see Wolfe if a telephone call alone wouldn’t do the trick.

  Lou left and returned with Mrs. Longworth. After a series of questions, she was less help than her husband. She claimed she had never seen the victim prior to his checking in. I wondered if that was the truth, or a rehearsed lie. Maybe I should’ve kept the Longworths apart while Lou and I waited on back-up.

  +++

  I questioned both chefs, the handyman, and the maid, but came up with nothing. Antoine, the chef, admitted knowing Longworth, which helped him secure the job, but claimed he didn’t know the deceased. Michael, the sous chef, answered an ad, and knew neither man. Mr. and Mrs. Mitchuson, the handyman and maid, were local, answered a newspaper ad, and won the jobs after a trial period. As with the two chefs, part of the amenities the Mitchusons received were free room and board. The Mitchusons didn’t own a home and were happy to comply with the Longworth’s desire for the help to live on the premises.

  I sat in the interrogation room, looked over at Lou.

  “So, Lou, what do you think?”

  “Well, if he was poisoned, it looks like we have a short list of suspects, and we have all of them gathered under one roof. Looks like we’re off to a good start.”

  “I’m not sure about a good start, but we have them all gathered. What do you think of the ones we’ve questioned so far?”

  “I think the Mitchusons are legit. I’m not sure about the others.”

  “I agree, but Michael seemed to be telling the truth. The Longworths and Antoine acted like they have something to hide. The question is what.”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “So here’s where we are now. Some of the staff needs more looking into, and we still have three guests to question.”

  “Three?”

  “Yes, three. There’s no way I plan to question my next-door neighbor. But I can keep her sequestered in her room until the case is solved.”

  “Wonder how long that’ll take, Cy?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes it takes years to solve a murder.”

  The two of us laughed, even though both of us knew that neither of us would be satisfied if the case dragged on.

  “Okay, Louie, it’s time to inconvenience the guests. Round up the usual suspects.”

  My partner laughed at my reference to the movie Casablanca, then turned toward the door. Our job wasn’t finished. It had barely begun.

  5

  We agreed that the last would be first and Lou traipsed off to locate Tony McArthur. He came in all smiles, and eager to help in any way he could, no matter why we wanted him.

  “Mr. McArthur, I’m Lt. Dekker, and this is Sgt. Murdock.”

  “I know, you introduced yourself when you flew from that dining room chair, and the sergeant told me his name on the way down. I assume you have questions for me. By the way, I got here late. How am I supposed to answer these questions?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean I didn’t get any lines. Am I supposed to answer your questions as they apply to Tony McArthur?”

  “Isn’t that who you are?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, then it would be hard to answer them as someone else, wouldn’t it? Shall we begin?”

  McArthur motioned for me to go ahead.

  “Mr. McArthur, tell me a little bit about yourself.”

  “I’m tall.”

  “Very good. I’d never have known if you hadn’t told me. Actually, I don’t think of you as tall, just not short. But let’s press on. What brought you to the inn tonight?”

  “I have an MG sitting outside. It’s a treasure. When daylight comes, I’ll have to show it to you. That is, if you want to see it.”

  I smiled at his remark. A little humor helps a murder investigation go a long way.

  “Let’s try this again, Mr. McArthur. Why did you come to the inn?”

  “Same reason as everyone else. I want to be part of the cast when Longworth begins rehearsals for his next play.”

  “So, you know Longworth?”

  “I’m still acting as Tony McArthur? Right, Lieutenant?”

  “Mr. McArthur, you’re tempting my patience.”

  “You’re great at acting perplexed.”

  Perplexed wasn’t the word for it. I wanted to pick up a gun and shoot him.

  “Let’s get back to the questions. Are you an actor, Mr. McArthur?”

  “I’d like to think so. What do you think, Lieutenant?”

  “Did I mention my gun is loaded and my gun and I have a hair trigger? I’ve been known to shoot and ask questions later.”

  “Hey, that’s good, Lieutenant. I think you’ll get the part.”

  “And I’m about to assign you the part of the next victim. So tell me about your acting experience.”

  “Well, the only things that interested me growing up were plays and movies. If my high school had booked a movie tryout instead of a play, I might be in Hollywood as we speak. But, instead we put on the play Arsenic And Old Lace. Are you familiar with it, Lieutenant?”

  “I saw the movie. I don’t like plays.”

  Ordinarily, I’m not as straightforward when talking to someone about my likes and dislikes, but this guy needed to take a hit.

  “I can tell, Lieutenant,” McArthur answered, laughing as he said that. “But anyway, with no agents knocking on my door to offer me the lead in the next big movie, I tried out for the school play. Guess which part I got?”

  “Knowing you as I do, I’d say Uncle Teddy.”

  “Bravo, Lieutenant. Teachers who’d been at the school for many years and had seen other classes perform the same play told me I was the best Teddy they’d ever seen. What do you think of that, Lieutenant?”

  “Well, I think you had an unfair advantage.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “You were crazy to start with. You didn’t have to act.”

  “You mean you heard about the teachers’ bodies they couldn’t find later?”

  “What about after high school?”

  “Well, I dated on weekends, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Listen, Numbskull, did you ever graduate, and if so, did you find any other crazy parts?”

  “You know it, Lieutenant. I played the psycho in Wait Until Dark and the husband in Dial M For Murder. But just so you know I have range, I played Professor Harold Hill in The Music Man.”

  “Have you ever acted in one of Longworth’s plays here at the inn?”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly an inn at the time, but yeah, and although I could never get the leading part, I was usually one of the main actors.”

  “Who usually got the lead?”

  “Carter Thornton usually played the hero. Arthur Rothschild often played the villain, but sometimes played the hero. Most of the time I was next in line.”

  “Why did you choose to act here instead of somewhere else where you could’ve played the lead?”

  “Sometimes I did, but I felt that to get a feel for the entire production a person needed to play all types of parts. Sometimes, when I wasn’t in a scene, I’d hang out with whoever was in charge of lighting, or sound, or find out what needed to be done to move from one scene to the next.”

  “Now that I know a little more about you, let’s get back to the present. Did you know anyone else at the table tonight?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Not even Mrs. Longworth?”

  “No. Longworth hasn’t been married that long. I lost track of him for a while. It was during that time he got married.”

  “So none of the other guests looked familiar?”

  “Well, they did and they didn’t.”

  “What do you mean by that?”
<
br />   “You know how actors are. Once they get in costume and makeup and get in character, if they are good it’s hard to recognize them.”

  “So, you think that everyone at the table tonight is an actor?”

  “Well, not the Longworths.”

  “Tell me, Mr. McArthur, do any of these names sound familiar; Arthur Plankton, Isabel Dukenfield, Heloise Humphert, or Myles Mycroft?”

  “None of them.”

  “Mr. McArthur, when you came in tonight, why did you sit where you did?”

  “Well, I didn’t want to sit by myself, and pardon me for saying this, but I didn’t want to sit by those two ugly women on the other side of the table, so I just decided to squeeze in where I could.”

  “Right next to the deceased.”

  “Well, I didn’t know he was going to be the deceased at the time. Remember, I got here late. I didn’t know what Longworth planned.”

  I figured time would tell if that first statement was right. I didn’t understand the second one, so I decided to press on.

  “So tell me, why were you so late getting to the inn tonight?”

  “I’ve been out of town, trying out for a play. The snowstorm delayed my flight back, and I just got in town an hour or so before I walked in the door and saw you at the dining room table.”

  “Where were you, and when did you leave?”

  “I was in Chicago, well, a suburb of Chicago, at a dinner theater. It’s a well-known dinner theater, so the part paid more than most theaters of that type. When you’re an actor, you go for whatever you can get, as long as it pays, and as long as it doesn’t go against your principles, provided you have principles. Some actors don’t. But then, you know about all that.”

  I motioned for him not to editorialize and get back to my question.

  “I left Hilldale Wednesday afternoon, caught an early flight out yesterday morning, and auditioned last night. This morning I found out I got the part, but rehearsals don’t start for a few weeks. I flew back this afternoon, and, like I said, I got in about an hour before you saw me. I didn’t even go to my apartment to change, since it was so late. I don’t mind the road out here in the daytime, but I don’t like to drive it at night. I came on anyway, because any job working with Sidney Longworth is a good one to have.”

 

‹ Prev