“What’s the purpose of the ladder?”
With that question, Wally laughed. “Well, lately it’s been so Russell could sneak down and see his honey, but the reason we have it is for me to wash the windows from time to time, or if I need to get up on that roof for any reason.”
“How hard would it be to move the ladder?”
“Not too hard. One man can do it.”
“What about a woman?”
“Sure, if she’s strong enough. It’s fairly light. I’m not sure if any of the little old ladies here could do it, but I’d think that any of the women who work here can.”
“So, someone might have moved it since Russell left it there, and then moved it back later?”
“Depends on who it was.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they’d either have to be on the second floor roof to do so, or come from Russell’s apartment. Russell would have to come down the ladder in order to move it. There’s no way you can scoot it from up top. You’d fall and break your neck. Let me explain. To get the ladder out to start with, you have to slide it out of the storage area there in the middle and down to the roof. Then, you’d have to climb down the ladder to the second floor roof, and slide it to one side or another. It can only be moved from the bottom. So, Imogene Ingram for example, who lives above Mrs. Higgins, couldn’t move it by leaning out her apartment window. And of course neither could the other two ladies on the third floor. Only Russell, or someone who was in his apartment, or someone on the second floor roof could move it.”
“So, how do you put it back when you’ve finished?”
“Well, it’s much easier if there’s two people, one at the top in the storage area to pull it back in, and one at the bottom to shove it up. That’s the reason I was shocked the first time Russell used it to get down to Katherine’s place. Somebody had to have helped him replace it.”
“So, no one could have used that ladder to climb down to Mrs. Higgins’s apartment say on Friday morning?”
“Only Russell, and he was sick. Besides, I was out here most of the day. If anyone tried to climb down that ladder, I’d have heard whoever it was.”
“Let’s move on to something else. I understand you have a key to anything in this place that has a lock on it.”
“Here they are,” Wally said, pointing to the keys hanging from his belt. “I’m not sure if I have a key to everything, but I have one to everything I might need to get to.”
“And that includes Mrs. Higgins’ apartment?”
“That’s right, but it’s been months since I’ve used it.”
“Do you know who else had a key to her apartment?”
“No, I’d say that Margaret would be the one you’d have to talk to about that.”
“Wally, would you know if there are any poisons on the premises?”
“There are solvents and chemicals that would be poisonous if you ate or drank them.”
“Do you keep them locked up?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“No one ever bothers them.”
“And where do you keep them?”
“Well, you could find some of the things that might poison someone under the kitchen sink, but there are others in the storage area in the basement.”
“And you don’t keep that storage area locked?”
“No, I don’t know too many people who lock the door under their sink, unless they have small children. Besides, like I said, nothing’s ever been missing.”
“Does that include now?”
“Well, to be honest with you, I don’t check them regular like, just if I need to get something out of the storage area. The last time I checked everything seemed okay.”
“Okay, let’s forget about the poison and move on to Friday night’s supper. Did you eat it at the table?”
“Sure did.”
“Can you remember who else ate dinner there when you did?”
“As far as I can remember, everyone did. By that I mean everyone who works here, the five of us.”
“In the last few days have you noticed anyone acting differently than he or she did before?”
“I’m not sure how many of the residents I’ve seen since then, but I haven’t noticed anything different about anybody who works here. Listen, Lieutenant, I know you got your job to do and all, but I’ve got work to do that I need to get finished up, so I can clean up a bit and be ready for supper. If there’s nothing else you have to ask, I need to get back to work.”
I couldn’t think of anything else. I told him that that was all for then, but I might have more questions for him later. He looked at me kind of disgusted like.
+++
I looked at my watch. There was not quite enough time to question anyone else, but it was earlier than Lou and I usually eat supper. So, we visited Mrs. Higgins’ room again as if hoping her ghost would enlighten us as to who had murdered her. We took a quick trip around the apartment, hunting for clues that hadn’t been there that morning. When they didn’t materialize, we sat down to discuss the case. Even after spending a few minutes looking over the place, it was still a little too early to head to find something to eat. Actually, it was never too early to eat dinner, but I didn’t want to have to fix myself something to eat when I got home, so I decided to prolong it a little longer.
Lou and I settled down, got as comfortable as possible, and I looked for the candy Rosie had given me. I took a few with me, just in case, but I didn’t want to carry the container around while I questioned the suspects. I mean I guess it would have been as professional as a cigar or a tattered raincoat, but I wanted to outsmart everyone without them thinking I was dumb. I poured out a few kisses into my hand, laid them on the coffee table. I sat all of them up, then thought about playing Rubik’s Cube Hershey Kisses style. That didn’t last long. I ended up eating all my Rubik’s Cubes. When that plan failed, carefully I put a small pile of kisses on the cushion next to me, unwrapped one, and began to think as I sucked on my delicacy. I had gone through five delicacies before I gathered all my thoughts and was ready to talk to Lou. I turned toward him, just as he opened his eyes. I didn’t hear any snoring, so I figured he was contemplating the case, or had merely closed his eyes because he had eaten his one M&M for the day. I would continue to pray for him. Sometimes we have to pray for someone for years, before he or she is willing to change. I wasn’t sure that Lou could hold on for years. I made a note to look through the Yellow Pages for a hypnotist.
“So, Lou, has anything anyone told us turned on any lights in your head?”
“No, Cy, I guess I forgot to pay my electric bill.”
“Well, let’s see what we can think of. We found no fingerprints on any bloody knife, and nothing anyone said seemed to conflict with what anyone else told us.”
“And at least one of those is good, Cy. Mrs. Higgins was poisoned, so a bloody knife would mean a second murder to solve, and we’re having enough trouble trying to solve this first one.”
“You’re supposed to be solving while I’m asking the questions.”
“Oh, didn’t you hear, Cy? I’m almost totally deaf. And when that gardener put his hand up in front of his face, I couldn’t hear a thing he said.”
“Have you been moonlighting at the comedy club again, Lou?”
“Only on weekends. I sold out Saturday night. Let me know if you want me to leave you tickets at the box office some Friday or Saturday night.”
“I’m afraid after putting up with you all day that Saturday night too would be a little more than I can handle.”
“I understand how you feel, Cy. I’d be miserable too if I found out someone I outranked is funnier than I am.”
It didn’t look like Lou was going to give me any evidence we might use. On that note, I put my finger up to my lips, closed my eyes, and tried to make sense of what new information we had learned. The next thing I remember, Lou was shaking me awake.
“Well, Cy, did you solve the murder w
hile you were asleep?”
“No, Lou, how about you?”
“No, every time I was about to figure it out a snore drowned out my thoughts.”
“I thought you were deaf.”
“No, almost deaf. Remember? Besides, I think even those who are totally deaf could have heard these snores. They shook the place.”
“But they didn’t shake out a murderer?”
“No, but I figured out that whoever poisoned her did it sometime around breakfast.”
I stuck my tongue out at my wasting away friend. It was time for me to see if anyone was going to poison me some time around supper.
19
Lou and I bid goodnight to Parkway Arms, knowing that we would return the next day, hoping that the next day would be our last day to include the apartment building in our itinerary. I had come to love making my time my own and sitting down with a new mystery or a TV comedy DVD whenever I wanted. We had barely made it to Lightning when the skies grew dark and a thunderstorm came up out of nowhere. I knew that Lightning doesn’t like to swim, so we sat there for a few minutes, waiting to see if the storm would pass. I hoped the comfy confines of Lightning would enhance our discerning powers. I gave Lou a chance to redeem himself.
“Okay, Lou, let’s talk about the case a little bit while we wait on the rain to pass us by. Here’s what I think. See if you agree. Mrs. Higgins was the first one down to breakfast. I doubt if she encountered any of the other residents on the way down to eat, and the only two people she saw before breakfast were the cook and the manager. I doubt if either of them slipped her anything before she ate breakfast, although I wouldn’t rule out either one of them while she ate. The best chance anyone had of poisoning her at breakfast was either when the first lady came down and Mrs. Higgins got up to get more food or orange juice or when the cook took the sick guy’s food to the dumbwaiter. In that case, depending on who was where at that time, any of the other residents could have done it. The other possibilities were after she left the dining room. The woman who’s supposed to be her friend called for her to wait for her. Maybe she slipped her something on the elevator, said something like, ‘This is good. Try a bite and see what you think.’ Or, provided Mrs. Higgins didn’t wait for her, or didn’t hear her call out, her friend could have knocked on her door after grabbing the elevator when it came back down, or any of the other residents could have done the same as they returned to their apartments.”
“Except that they seem to be accounted for. Except for the fact that I don’t think anyone would have been dumb enough to poison her at the table, not unless there were only two people at the table and Mrs. Higgins got up to get something.”
“Yeah, I can picture this now. Mrs. Higgins comes back to the table and asks, ‘What’s all this white stuff on my bacon?’ and the murderer says, ‘That’s salt. That’s what they use to cure the bacon. Don’t you know that if you let your bacon set too long white grains appear? Don’t worry about it! It’s good for you.’”
“Or maybe she comes back from breakfast and runs into the handyman or the maid coming out of her apartment and whichever one of them it is says to her, ‘I put some after-breakfast mints on your pillow. They’ll help soothe your stomach.’”
I was beginning to think the rain had flooded our brains. We had become so involved in thinking about the case that we didn’t realize that the brief shower had passed. It was time for supper. I knew it was. My stomach had already growled several times. Lou’s had too, but he was in denial.
+++
The Blue Moon Diner used to be open at night for dinner, but that was before Thelma left to take care of a sick friend. Thelma had returned to Hilldale, but the weeks she had spent taking care of her friend made her yearn for time of her own. After giving it much thought, she decided not to return to work. When she didn’t return, the Blue Moon continued to shut its doors at 4:00. Neither Lou nor I want to cook anything if we can help it, so we had to change our routine when the Blue Moon started closing early. Unlike the past, when we ate all of our meals at the Blue Moon, we started rotating restaurants each night. Both of us had been too busy to think about supper, but the time had come to put the case away for the day. Lou knew that I was now more dependent upon food than he was, so he let me pick where we ate. A few minutes later I slid into a booth at Antonio’s. Unlike the Blue Moon, Antonio’s doesn’t have a counter. You might say it is a higher class joint that serves delicious Italian food. Even though Antonio’s was one of those elegant places that serves food I wouldn’t recognize and wine in fancy glasses, I ordered good old-fashioned spaghetti and meatballs. I was surprised when Lou ordered the same, but only briefly. He decided on spaghetti with marinara sauce, but just a half-portion, and a side salad with Italian dressing. I tried not to gag when Lou ordered. What good is spaghetti without meatballs? I had no idea. And what real man would order a salad? Even if he did, he wouldn’t order it with a dressing you could see through. When our order came, it didn’t surprise me that Lou turned to me and said, “Cy, you can have all the bread.”
I refrained from looking at Lou while I ate. He sat and smiled all the way through supper. I was glad that there was no one else seated nearby. They might have gotten the wrong idea about us. By the time I used up the last of the bread to scoop up the last of the spaghetti sauce and looked up, Lou too was through with his meager child’s portion. Lou’s new habits were interfering with my appetite, but not so much that I couldn’t eat the two desserts I normally have with dinner. I looked up once and Lou was still smiling. I started to kick him in the shins to wipe the smile off his face, but remembered our friendship and kept myself from doing so. It could have been the friendship, but then it might have been that I knew that God would punish me if I did so. Maybe not then, not in the restaurant, but somewhere shortly after we left. No, my only hope was to find a specialist who was willing to treat Lou. I doubted if Hilldale had a renowned brain specialist, and I wasn’t sure how I could lure Lou to a large city and ask him to take clean underwear because he would be having surgery while he was gone. What was I thinking about? Lou was my friend. I would be willing to splurge for new clean underwear for him, if it meant the doctor could make him well. But what if I couldn’t lure Lou out of town? What would I do?
I thought of an idea, but I wasn’t sure about it. I remembered one time I was driving through town and spotted a sign that said, “Fortune Teller and Hypnotist.” That sounded acceptable. If you don’t like how they tell you that your life will turn out, they can make you like your life as it is.
Lou interrupted my thoughts. I felt him shaking my arm. I pulled the fork from my mouth and laid it on the empty plate in front of me.
“Cy, who’s Madame Zelda?”
“Who?”
“Madame Zelda. You were talking to her.”
+++
I got Lou out of Antonio’s as quickly as I could. He was becoming an embarrassment to me, and if I didn’t watch myself, I would end up talking to the department’s shrink. I watched how easily Lou got into Lightning and fastened his seatbelt. He no longer had to tug at it to get it to go around him. Maybe I could wrap it around his arms too and be able to shovel in a sufficient amount of food before Lou could get the belt unfastened. I needed to get home and find the episode of I Love Lucy where the candy was coming down that conveyor belt so fast that she had to cram the candy into her mouth.
I dropped Lou at his place, then rushed home. For once, luck was with me and my next-door neighbor wasn’t. I didn’t want to press my luck, so I hurried inside, locked the door. I hustled to the computer, clicked on Favorites, and clicked again on Google. I typed in Overcoming Weight Loss. In no time at all, I learned what I suspected. While most people think that food, exercise, and lifestyle are what causes people to lose weight, I found out that the brain is what is really responsible. In other words, the Pod People didn’t take over any part of Lou’s body except his brain. I realized that getting Lou a brain transplant would be risky, so we would have to d
o something to the one he had. I thought about typing in Pod People Antidote, but I wasn’t sure how secure my computer was. In case the Pod People weren’t yet sure that I was on to them, I didn’t want to alert them to that fact. I also refrained from typing the words Getting Rid of Someone Else’s Wii. Those people are smart. They have already lowered the percentage of couch potatoes in the world. True, some of them are still couch potatoes. They are merely bowling while seated, but if they are still in good enough condition to rise to their feet, who knows what they might try next. Some might step up on a Wii Fit board. I was getting nowhere. It was time to turn from the computer to something more positive.
The night was still young. Well, not as young as it would have been at that time of day when I was younger, but young enough that I plucked a mystery from my new bookshelves and sat down to read. By the fourth page, I no longer thought of Lou or the murder I was trying to solve. I didn’t even think of my next-door neighbor. Life was good, if only for a short time.
20
I awoke Tuesday morning, thankful that I was on top of my bed instead of under it. I lay there a few minutes figuring out what we would do that day. It wasn’t what I wanted to do that day. There was a murder to be solved. There was no time for sleeping late, reading, a lingering trip to Scene of the Crime, or finding someone to abduct my next-door neighbor and abscond with her to some remote island where he could dump her in some cannibal’s pot. Instead, we needed to continue to question the people of Parkway Arms until we found a clue or a slippage of the tongue that would allow us to conclude the case.
I lifted myself from my bed in record time, two minutes and forty-three seconds. I needed to get out of bed, but I didn’t want to pull a muscle, and I wanted to wipe the sleep from my eyes so that no one could shove a Wii Fit board out from under the bed and under my feet. I was successful, and this time success took two minutes and forty-three seconds. On a less stressful day, I might be able to reduce that time by two or three seconds.
4 Murder at Breakfast Page 12