The Purloined Puzzle

by Parnell Hall

  “As opposed to you, whose motives are pure.”

  “I’m not going to cost her money. I’m going to make her money. Every piece of real estate I turn over she gets exactly the same thing as if she did it herself. I just get a little bonus that affects her not in the least. It won’t even be reflected in the lease.”

  “Or on your tax return?”

  “I can’t afford to pay taxes. I’d have to stop your alimony payments.”

  Melvin cocked his head at Cora and smiled. “If you figure out who got stabbed, give me a call.”

  Chapter

  13

  Chief Harper called Cora at three in the morning. “Found the corpse.”

  “How come you always find ’em at three in the morning? What’s wrong with three in the afternoon?”

  “I’d have preferred that myself.”

  “Who got stabbed?”

  “Fred Winkler.”

  “Who’s Fred Winkler?”

  “Guy who got stabbed.”

  “You just trying to make sure I’m awake, Chief? Don’t bother. You had me at ‘corpse.’ Where’s the body?”

  “Middle of Main Street.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Wish I were.”

  “Never mind, I’ll see for myself.”

  Cora slammed down the phone and hopped out of bed. Her clothes were scattered on the floor. It was not lost on her they hadn’t been scattered by an ardent lover but by herself while watching a sitcom.

  Buddy, the toy poodle, went out the front door, peed, and came back in. He knew what three a.m. meant.

  Cora drove downtown, where Officer Sam Brogan was directing traffic with a flashlight. He started to wave Cora off, then recognized her and pointed to a parking spot in front of the police station. Cora pulled up and got out.

  Chief Harper was in the middle of the street inspecting the body. Sam Brogan was protecting him with the flashlight.

  The officer was cranky, as usual. “How can you have a crime scene in the middle of Main Street? You can’t close off Main Street. It’s Main Street.”

  “There’s no traffic, Sam.”

  “No, but there will be, won’t there? Just because you beat the ambulance doesn’t mean it’s not coming. Those boys don’t care about anything. They’d drive right over the body if you’d let ’em.”

  The dead man lay facedown in the middle of the street. He wore blue jeans and a work shirt. He had what might well have been a knife wound in the middle of his back. His shirt was slashed and stained with blood. He was young, in his twenties, with short dark hair and a three-day-growth look that had become popular on television. His face was scrunched up against the pavement, and his neck was twisted in what would have been an exceedingly uncomfortable angle had the man been alive.

  “That’s Fred Winkler?” Cora said.

  Chief Harper rose from the body. “According to his driver’s license.”

  “How’d he wind up in the middle of Main Street?”

  “Someone must have dumped him. I can’t imagine anyone walking there this time of night. I can’t imagine anyone dumping him there, either. Right outside the police station. Kind of a slap in the face.”

  “I doubt if that’s why someone did it.”

  “Killed him, no. Dumped him, maybe. I mean, you wanna dump a guy, there’s a lot better places with a lot less chance of being seen. Dumping him there is kind of sticking it to us.”

  A Volkswagen pulled up and Dr. Barney Nathan got out. Despite the hour, he was dressed in his traditional red bow tie. Cora had never seen him without it, except during their brief affair. She had actually worn it once, and not much else.

  “What have we got here?” Barney said.

  “I’d say it’s a stabbing victim, but you’re the doctor.”

  “Damned if I’m not.” Barney knelt by the body. “Looks like a stabbing. No murder weapon?”

  “No, we got one.”

  “You sent if off already?”

  “I sent it off this afternoon.”

  Barney Nathan cocked his head. “If the guy had been lying here since this afternoon, surely someone would have noticed.”

  “He wasn’t. Sam Brogan found him on his last drive-through.”

  “When was that?”

  “About a half hour ago.”

  “He’s been dead longer than that.”

  “You mind not telling Cora? She’ll probably wind up working for the defense attorney.”

  “Well, I like that,” Cora said.

  Harper put up his hand. “Not that I care. The time of death will be public knowledge.”

  “I don’t recognize him. Who is he?”

  “Probably from that construction crew out at the mall. Most of them are from out of town.”

  “Was he?”

  “More than likely. His driver’s license is from New York. And he had a motel key in his pocket.”

  “Oh. Which motel was he staying at?”

  “The one out by the mall.”

  Chapter

  14

  Cora Felton found Melvin enjoying a breakfast beer at the Country Kitchen.

  “Little early for that, Melvin?”

  “It is,” he admitted. “I was thinking I should have a Bloody Mary, but then I figured what the hell.”

  “You find getting liquored up helps you sell houses?”

  “The houses sell themselves. It’s quite a racket, really.”

  “Fred Winkler.”

  “What about him?”

  “You didn’t happen to stick a knife in him and drop him in the middle of Main Street?”

  “Can’t say as I have.”

  “You mind letting me look in the trunk of your car?”

  “For what, bloodstains? Be my guest.”

  “Right, you’d use a plastic tarp, wouldn’t you?”

  “I would hope so. Not that I’ve ever disposed of a body, but if I were going to do it, I’d like to do it right. Who’s this guy you say?”

  “Fred Winkler.”

  “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “Young guy, brown hair, unshaven, work clothes.”

  Melvin shrugged. “There’s a bunch of construction workers at the motel. He could be one of those.”

  “He certainly could, seeing as how he had a key to one of the motel rooms in his pocket.”

  “Good, they’re a noisy lot. I’ll be glad to see ’em go. You don’t suppose he could knock off a few more, while he’s at it?”

  “Who?”

  “Johnny Dawson. Wasn’t he the guy running around with the bloody knife?”

  “He wasn’t running around.”

  “Sitting, standing, he’s the guy who had it.”

  “He turned it in to the police.”

  “Bad move. I’d have told him to ditch it.”

  “He turned it in way before the murder. The knife will prove he’s innocent.”

  “Really?” Melvin’s grin was mocking. “He’s way too young for you, Cora.”

  Cora’s mouth fell open. “I have no designs on Johnny Dawson.”

  “So you say. Would you like to know the number of times you said the same thing about some other lover you were seeing?”

  “Johnny Dawson is not my lover.”

  “Isn’t that a Michael Jackson song? When you start quoting lyrics, you’re usually lying. If the guy means nothing to you, why are you defending him?”

  “How about the fact he didn’t do it?”

  “Your evidence he didn’t do it is the fact he had a bloody knife? You claim that was before the murder. So what was the time of death?”

  “The police don’t have a time of death yet.”

  “Isn’t the doctor sweet on you? Why don’t you give him a call and find out?”

  “The doctor’s barely talking to me, Melvin. If he could move out of town, I think he would. You, on the other hand, show up in town and dog my footsteps.”

  “Hey, I’m just sitting here. You came and found me.” />
  “To ask you if you killed someone. That’s entirely different.”

  “Well, if you want to split hairs.” Melvin took a gulp of beer. “When’d you find this out, Cora?”

  “Three in the morning.”

  “You should have knocked on my door. Then you could prove I was there.”

  “He wasn’t killed at three in the morning, Melvin.”

  “When was he dumped?”

  “Probably around two, two thirty.”

  “You should have knocked on my door then.”

  “The body hadn’t been found.”

  “Who said anything about the body?”

  Out the window of the bar Cora could see the Channel 8 news van heading for town.

  “What?” Melvin said.

  “You might want to steer clear of town.”

  “Why?”

  “TV’s here.”

  “So?”

  “What about your paranoid fear of publicity? Based on the premise that someone you scammed will see you on TV and come after you.”

  “A stupid notion. I’m surprised you bought that.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “I didn’t want some bimbo I dumped to catch up with me. You know what a problem that is? Women really should learn to take a hint.”

  “I took a hint, Melvin. I can’t speak for anyone else.”

  “Well, I’m not hiding from anyone. This might be a good opportunity to extol the benefits of Bakerhaven living.”

  “Sure. You can play up the trendy Murder of the Month Club. Too bad he was staying at the motel. You could have another vacant house on the market.”

  “Damned if I couldn’t.”

  Melvin chugged the rest of his beer and hurried out. He hopped in his car and headed back to town.

  Cora followed along to see if he really was looking to be interviewed.

  He certainly wasn’t lacking opportunities. Rick Reed and his camera crew had taken up positions outside the police station to nab anyone who came by.

  Not wanting to be nabbed, Cora hung back in the crowd the TV cameras had created. Melvin, on the other hand, appeared to be positioning himself toward the front of the crowd, ready to be singled out. He gave every indication that if Rick Reed didn’t call on him, he was going to volunteer.

  Before he got a chance, Dan Finley drove up in his police car. He got out and opened the back door for Johnny Dawson. Johnny wasn’t in handcuffs, but he might as well have been. Dan took him by the arm and marched him to the police station.

  Rick Reed fell all over himself trying to get an interview, but Dan was having none of it. He ushered Johnny up the front steps and in the door.

  Cora slipped out of the crowd and hurried down the side alley to Becky’s office.

  “They arrested Johnny Dawson!”

  Becky looked up from her desk. “Oh, come on.”

  “Just now. I saw Dan Finley haul him in.”

  “That’s a big mistake.”

  “No kidding. That knife can’t have anything to do with it. They’ll find that out as soon as they get the autopsy report.”

  “Unless they already got the report.”

  “Not a chance. If I were you, I’d get my fanny down to the police station before the poor sap spills his guts.”

  “I’m not his lawyer.”

  “No, but you could be. I bet if you showed up there, he’d hire you.”

  “I’m not soliciting employment. Good God, next thing you’ll have me ambulance chasing.”

  “I hear there’s good money in it.”

  The phone rang.

  Becky scooped it up. “Becky Baldwin … Uh huh … Uh huh … Sit tight, I’ll be right there.”

  Becky hung up the phone and smiled at Cora. “Guess who wants a lawyer?”

  Chapter

  15

  “I don’t see why I need a lawyer.”

  Becky Baldwin might have pointed out that she was there only because he had asked for her, so on some level Peggy’s brother must have felt he needed a lawyer. Instead she applied the Socratic method. “You were arrested?”

  “Yes.”

  “They said you didn’t have to answer their questions?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So you decided not to say anything.”

  “Not at first. I was perfectly happy to talk to them as long as they believed me.”

  “What made you think they didn’t believe you?”

  “They started asking things I’d already told them.”

  “Did you point that out to them?”

  “Sure.”

  “What did they say?”

  “‘Tell me again.’”

  “What sort of things did they ask you?”

  “They said, ‘When you picked up the knife, did you pick it up by the blade or the handle?’ I said, ‘The handle.’ They said, ‘Why?’ I said, ‘Because the blade was covered in blood.’ They said, ‘If the blade wasn’t covered in blood, you would have picked it up by the blade?’ I said, ‘No.’ They said, ‘Then why did you say the reason you picked it up by the handle was that the blade was covered with blood?’ I said, ‘Because you asked the question.’ They said, ‘You’re not supposed to give us the answers you think we want to hear, you’re supposed to tell us what happened.’”

  “What did you say to that?”

  “I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t a question.”

  “What happened then?”

  “They said, ‘Is there anything else you told us you got wrong?’ I said, ‘I didn’t get anything wrong.’ They said, ‘Then you did pick it up by the handle because the blade was covered in blood?’”

  “And that’s when you decided you wanted a lawyer?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I can’t believe Chief Harper would question you like that.”

  “It wasn’t him. It was a little guy with a twitchy nose.”

  “Henry Firth. I see.”

  “Who’s Henry Firth?”

  “The county prosecutor. He’s the one who’ll be trying the case if they charge you with the crime.”

  “Why would they charge me with the crime? I didn’t do anything.”

  “You had the murder weapon.”

  “That’s not the murder weapon.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It couldn’t be.”

  “It actually could. We don’t know when this man was killed. Until we get the autopsy report, there’s nothing to rule it out.”

  “When do we get the autopsy report?”

  “The police will get it soon. If they don’t already have it. They’re not apt to share it with us.”

  “Don’t they have to?”

  “They do if they charge you with the crime. They haven’t done that yet.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it? They must realize it wasn’t the knife.”

  “Or they realize it was and they don’t want us to know.”

  “What’s the point of that?”

  “No point. It’s just a game they play.”

  “This isn’t a game. I’m a murder suspect.”

  “Don’t worry,” Becky said, getting up from the table. “You won’t be for long.”

  Chapter

  16

  Becky stormed out of the interrogation room. “Charge him or release him!”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Chief Harper said. “Don’t bite me. I’m just doing my job.”

  “Does your job include holding people in custody for no apparent reason?”

  “Your client was in possession of a bloody knife.”

  “Which he immediately turned over to the police as soon as it was discovered.”

  “Which would be the smart move.”

  “Really? I would think the smart move would be to toss it in the river. If it was indeed the murder weapon. And if he was indeed guilty. Neither of which happens to be true.”

  “You know that because your client told you so?”

  “I know that becaus
e I’m a rational human being and rely on facts. You, on the other hand, rely on pure conjecture. You see a bloody knife and assume it’s a murder weapon.”

  “The presence of a stabbing victim does up the odds.”

  “The knife had nothing to do with it.”

  “Preliminary tests have not ruled it out.”

  “That’s because they’re so preliminary as to be next to worthless. It’s way too early for a DNA match. I imagine your preliminary tests have indicated the presence of blood on the knife. You might even have gone so far as to match the type to the victim’s. If it’s type O, that’s not an earthshaking revelation, since it would match half the town. But I imagine Henry Firth is hoping I’ll plead him out on the basis of it.”

  Chief Harper made a face.

  Becky smiled. “Ah. I gather you were present for Henry’s interrogation.”

  “Now look—”

  Becky held up her hand. “I don’t want to put you in a bad position, Chief. You’re not about to say anything negative about the county prosecutor, but really. My client has given me a fairly detailed summary of the Q and A. Henry couched his questions in a way that fairly screamed for the young man to demand a lawyer. It was something along the lines of a have-you-stopped-beating-your-wife? interrogation.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “How bad was it? Never mind, I know the answer. In a case with virtually no evidence, Henry’s done everything he could to make the suspect look guilty in the event he ends up trying him someday.”

  Chief Harper said nothing.

  “And what about the autopsy report? Hasn’t the time of death ruled out the knife as the murder weapon?”

  “Barney hasn’t finished his report yet.”

  “Surely he has the time of death.”

  “He’s not going to give you something you can cross-examine him on in court. He has to be sure.”

  “I’m not asking you for something I can use in court. I’m asking you to give me a hint.”

  “I can’t give you a hint.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re the defendant’s attorney.”

  “Defendant? Then you are charging him with the crime?”

  “I’m just trying to make it through the morning without everybody mad at me. If I tell you something, the prosecutor’s mad at me. If I don’t tell you something, you’re mad at me. I got Rick Reed setting up shop outside just waiting for an exclusive interview with the chief of police. I got nothing to give him, but that won’t stop him from pretending like I did. I can say no comment and he’ll take it to mean we have the suspect dead to rights and he can expect a confession any moment. I swear to you, by tonight people will be talking as if I said it. I don’t care as long as it’s just folks, but when it’s the county prosecutor I want to be able to say I didn’t say it. And that goes double for what I didn’t say to you. So there is absolutely nothing I can tell you about the time of death. Do you understand me?”