4 Murder at Breakfast

by Steve Demaree

  I walked into the apartment, selected one candy piece of each color of paper, and plopped down in a chair. Lou plopped down in another chair, and carefully removed one M&M from his package. It was time to meditate, then share our thoughts. A few minutes later, I interrupted the silence.

  “Well, Lou, enlighten me.”

  “Well, Cy, I can really tell a difference since I started mixing in some strength exercises with the aerobics. I use yoga and balance for warm-up and cool-down, and rotate aerobic and strength exercises each day.”

  Lou quit just as I reached for my gun.

  “I mean about the murder.”

  “Well, it seems like we now have more possibilities on how she died than we did. Was it Professor Plum with the cheesecake, Mrs. White with the orange juice, or Miss Peacock, who dropped something onto her plate? Or did Mrs. Green stop by for a visit and share an after dinner mint or two?”

  “As always Lou, you are enlightening. I just wish two people would confirm some story.”

  “Well, they seem to be in agreement that four of the women were at breakfast, and both the manager and the woman across the hall said she had the latch on her door. Of course one said it was on after breakfast, and the other said it was on at supper, but then a dead woman can’t do much with her door latch.”

  “As always, Lou, you’re most enlightening. It would be great if someone had found Mrs. Higgins in time so that Frank could have narrowed down the time of death even further. At least we know that she was poisoned before breakfast, at breakfast, or after breakfast, so we can rule out anything having to do with lunch.”

  “Too bad we couldn’t rule out breakfast and narrow it down to lunch. That way we could eliminate some of our suspects. As it is, we can’t eliminate anyone. Anyone could have done it before breakfast, any of the residents could’ve done it at breakfast, and anyone could’ve done it afterward, considering she was already dead before the shopping commenced.”

  The words “breakfast” and “lunch” triggered a thought. No, I didn’t plan to eat both at once, but I thought of an idea that might help us solve the case.

  Lou, I’ve got an idea.”

  “You know who did it?”

  “No, I know how we might find out.”

  “You plan to beat everyone until someone confesses?”

  “No, nothing like that. I plan to reenact the crime, so to speak.

  “You plan to murder someone and see who gets jealous?”

  “Yeah, I’m down to you and my next-door neighbor, but I don’t think anyone will be jealous.”

  “Don’t forget the old lady in the house next to this place.”

  “I’m trying to forget her. Now, do you want to hear my idea?”

  “Okay, how do you plan to do it?”

  “Well, tomorrow we’ll come back over here, and reenact Mrs. Higgins’s last day.”

  “You mean we tell everyone they have to do just as they did on Friday?”

  “I doubt if one of them will cooperate. Instead, we’ll come over and eat breakfast with the residents. I’ll have you play the part of Mrs. Higgins. After you eat, you’ll go up and brush your teeth and stay in the apartment.”

  “And wait for the big bad wolf to knock on the door.”

  “Well, unless you keel over at the breakfast table.”

  “I have a better idea, Cy. Since you’re the one who eats the most now, and I might miss whatever it is that the murderer laces with poison, why don’t you play the part of the victim, and if I spot someone shaking some nasty-looking stuff into your food, I’ll arrest him or her.”

  “No, Lou, you’re the one wasting away. There’s not as much of you to miss as there is of me. I think you’ll make a better Mrs. Higgins.”

  “Okay, I’m game, as long as I don’t have to dress up in drag and use a falsetto voice.”

  Before the conversation got any worse, I told Lou that I was on my way down to the manager’s office to let her know our plans, and to make sure that there would be plenty of food for a hungry lieutenant the next day. I told Lou that he could either stay put or accompany me. His decision told me the lack of food was affecting his brain. A couple of minutes and one elevator ride later, the two of us arrived at the manager’s office, and the look on Mrs. Draper’s face told me that somehow she had managed to forget that we were there.

  “Come in, Lieutenant, Sergeant. Is there something I can do for you?”

  I told her my plan and could quickly tell that she was sorry she asked her question.

  “And you really think that this might help you end this mess a little sooner?”

  With more belief than I felt at that moment, I told her that I thought it could. We thanked her, told her goodbye, and left while she went to tell the cook, “Guess who’s coming to breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”

  On the way out the door I wondered what I had gotten us into. I couldn’t see where the murderer might try to reenact the crime. The best we could hope for was a guilty look on someone’s face as he or she reflected upon the fatal moment in our presence, or perhaps we could find a clue that we wouldn’t have known about unless we became a part of the family, so to speak.

  +++

  I looked at my watch before we pulled out of the Parkway Arms parking lot. We had just enough time to drop by Hancock Cleaners and pick up our laundry and dry cleaning before they closed. Neither of us likes to do his own laundry, so we pay a little more for the privilege of letting someone else do it for us. Besides, every little act of laziness on our parts allows someone else to make a living.

  +++

  “Well, what do you think, Lou?”

  “I think all my thinking about this case has been used up for today.”

  “Not about the case. Where do you think we should go for supper?”

  I noticed the look on my friend’s face and realized he had regressed so far that he was more comfortable thinking about the murder than about where we would eat. I wanted back my friend who slobbered every time I mentioned the word “food.”

  “You decide, Cy. Wherever you want to go is fine.”

  I thought about blindfolding him and dropping him off at my next-door neighbor’s, but I wanted to get my friend back, not lose him.

  “Well, Lou, I had such a good time at Burkman’s the other night, I’m ready to go back.

  +++

  I don’t like silence unless I am thinking or reading, or in the presence of my next-door neighbor, so, on the way to take Lou back to his place, I made conversation.

  “So, Lou, what do you plan to do when you get home, read, or W…W…W…, that other thing?” I couldn’t make myself say the “W” word.

  “Read, Cy. I did my workout this morning. I go about forty-minutes each morning. It’s not a good idea to lose weight too fast, and I want to get in optimum shape.”

  I had always thought that optimum shape was the most favorable shape to be in. If Lou wanted to do that, he needed to start eating again, and soon.

  “Lou, maybe if you ate a little more you could eat all the basic food groups like I do, and Wii twice a day.”

  “You Wii twice a day, Cy? I didn’t know.”

  I gave Lou a look and he decided to change the subject.

  “Say, Cy, I assume you’re still reading that Carolyn Hart book we got the other day, The Christie Caper. When do you expect to be finished?”

  “I am, Lou, and it’s another good one, but when I finish depends on this case. It may be another couple of days.”

  I did plan to read when I got home, but first I would think about what we would do the next day, and then, to get myself in the mood, I would Google Agatha Christie. Maybe Carolyn Hart, too.

  Before I dropped Lou at his place, I reminded him that I would be picking him up much earlier than usual in order to get to Parkway Arms at around 6:45. I hated to get up so much earlier than God intended, but those people eat early and it would make no sense to get there after everyone returned to their apartments or went about keeping the pl
ace in order. I wondered if it was too late to call and see if they would be willing to move breakfast back to 9:00.

  24

  I opened my eyes, sure that I was having a nightmare. In a matter of seconds I realized that I was having a daymare instead. As soon as gravity allowed me to do so, I pushed myself up off of my bed and plodded over to the window. I pushed the blind aside and looked out. Sure enough, the rooster was still asleep. Okay, maybe there wasn’t a rooster in my neighborhood, but I knew that at 5:30 every respectable rooster on God’s green earth was still catching as many winks as possible, before he too had to get up much too early and alert farmers everywhere to do the same. I seldom think of roosters, but that morning I allowed myself a few seconds to do so. Not being a farm boy, I wasn’t sure what items were included in a rooster’s daily agenda, but I figured all it had to do was wake up way too early, then chase hens after he crowed. I would think he would save the crowing for after he caught some hens, but like I said, I wasn’t raised on a farm, so I’m not sure.

  I shook my head back into the present, stepped away from the window, wondered whose idea it was that I arise so early, and then I remembered. Technically it was Wednesday. To me, it wasn’t really Wednesday until it was daylight, but then I assume the same guys decided what day it was who decided what season it was. To me, the season should be spring from March through May, summer from June through August, fall from September through November, and winter from December through February, but my guess is that whoever decided the time and the seasons lived in some different part of the country, probably one of the frozen people from up north or some strange guy from California. Not someone from my neck of the woods. Also, more than likely, whoever did it was some politician. They’re known for messing things up more than anyone. It didn’t matter. I would have to live with it. Luckily, I don’t have to get up too many days before the rooster wakes up, and that’s fine with me. God didn’t mean for people to wake up in the middle of the night.

  I prayed and asked God that the food be worth the trip, that they not run out of it before I was finished eating, and that the murderer would hasten in my direction and reveal himself or herself. Well, maybe I didn’t ask God for the last part, but I hoped it happened.

  I wanted to call Sam, but wasn’t sure if Sam arose before any of God’s creatures, so I decided to wait until after breakfast. I remembered seeing a phone in Mrs. Higgins apartment. I would call from there. Maybe calling Sam from there would allow me to hang up and make an almost instantaneous arrest.

  +++

  I left my house a few minutes after God turned the light on, enabling all those who had to go to work too early to see how to get there. For a change, I was one of those people.

  When I pulled up in front of Lou’s place, he put his hand to his head, as if he couldn’t believe that I arrived on time. As long as I don’t have to repeat it as part of a routine, I can get places early in order to bring a murder investigation to a conclusion. Okay, part of my motivation was to eat breakfast, but I wanted to bring the case to a conclusion, too.

  I couldn’t watch Lou as he hastened to the car. He seemed to have more bounce in his step. Could it be that he had found one of those energy drinks that gives you pep before needing a nap. The word “nap” put a smile on my face. I wondered if I could take advantage of the bed the murdered woman would no longer need. I’ve always recommended a good nap after breakfast. And lunch. And supper.

  “What are you smiling about, Cy? Go out and buy yourself a Wii last night?”

  “No, found someone who’ll steal yours while we’re gone.”

  “Just for that, I won’t tell you the clue of the day.”

  “I’m sorry, Lou. Go ahead.”

  I was sorry, too. I was sorry my friend ever heard about a Wii.

  “The rope, the lead pipe, or the candlestick.”

  I knew where that came from.

  “So, Lou, does it mean that we’re going to solve this thing today, or did Mrs. Higgins leave us a Clue game to play. I bet I’d be able to solve that one quicker.”

  “Yeah, just after I do.”

  His remark gave me a few moments to wonder in silence what the clue meant. Surely, it had some reference to the game Clue, but we knew the victim had been poisoned, so it wasn’t telling us how she was murdered. Was it? And I doubted if any of the rooms on the Clue board would tell us anything about where the murder took place. It didn’t take a mental heavyweight to know that she was either murdered on the way to breakfast, at breakfast, on her way back to her apartment, or in her apartment. All that I could see that it left us were the characters in the game of Clue, and none of those people had the same name as any of our suspects. As usual, when Lou gives me the clue of the day, I was just as baffled as I was before he enlightened me.

  After I dropped Lou off the night before I thought about what we would do as we reenacted the crime, so to speak. Most of the time Lou and I don’t split up. We tackle things together, even though I do most of the tackling, but this time we would split up, but not immediately. I turned back to Lou to fill him in on my plan.

  “Lou, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not, but lately I’ve been eating more than you.”

  “More than Godzilla, too.”

  “I’m not the one who changed, Lou, but let’s not discuss that right now. Since I’ve remained the same stable self I’ve always been, I will continue to do as I have done. You, on the other hand, will adapt to your new lifestyle.”

  “Then, turn around. I need to go back to the apartment.”

  “What for, Lou? They’ll have something there that you’ll eat.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about that. Are you planning on us holing up in the dead woman’s apartment all day?”

  “Well, not all day. I mean I plan to go down for lunch and supper unless the murderer knocks on the door and says, ‘Here’s your poison.’”

  “But other than that, you plan to stay in the apartment?”

  “I’m not sure, but probably. At least that’ll be our base of operations. Why do you ask?”

  “Then, why don’t we go back to my place. I can pick up my Wii and my Fit board so we can have something to do.”

  Lou’s swore I caused it by stomping my foot down hard on the gas pedal, but I thought the word “Wii” caused Lightning to lurch and zoom off down the street. At any rate, no one made any U-turns to pick up a Wii.

  After sulking for a few moments, Lou opened his mouth and uttered a question that unnerved me.

  “Cy, what if we get there and the food’s no good. Remember that one place where we ate?”

  Boy did I remember, and I think at that time I vowed never to eat at any place again where I was unfamiliar with the food.

  “This time’s different, Lou. If we get there and the food’s no good, I let you hang around while I go to the Blue Moon to eat.”

  “What about me?”

  “Don’t you remember? This place has fruit and cereal. There’s no way they can ruin either of them. Besides, it’s that awful stuff you like now.”

  “You mean the stuff that’s good for you, don’t you?”

  “That’s what I said. That awful stuff.”

  I don’t like to inform the enemy before I attack, but this time I had no choice. At least Margaret Draper and the cook, Martha Carpenter, knew we were coming. I had to tell them. Otherwise, we might not have been able to get into the building. At least not in time for breakfast. I remembered that the front door wasn’t unlocked until 9:00, which is a more reasonable time to get up, but I felt if I went and knocked at 6:45, everyone would ignore my knock, thinking I was the nutty woman who lives in the house next door. We pulled into the parking lot and walked as lively as possible to the front door. The manager was waiting for us. Once we were inside, she relocked the door.

  I knew Margaret Draper had informed the cook that Lou and I would be there to eat. I don’t think she had any knowledge of how much one of us eats, but before we ate I noticed that
the warmers were filled to the brim.

  Lou and I waited until the first resident came walking into the dining room before we headed to the serving table. Contrary to public opinion, I didn’t elbow Miss Winters out of the way when she stepped up to scoop her food onto her plate. She smiled and said, “hi” when she entered, and more than likely she wondered why we were there for breakfast, but she didn’t say anything.

  Hilda Winters sat down at one end of the table. We didn’t know if she was the murderer, so Lou and I got up together to get our food. True to his new form, Lou picked Raisin Bran and fresh fruit. I piled everything else as high as I could without some of it falling off the plate. Well, not those other two cereals, but I dumped plenty of scrambled eggs, bacon, both kinds of sausage, and biscuits on my plate, and I was surprised to find that there was gravy to drown the biscuits, and this gravy looked like gravy, not some poor substitute. My plan was that between the two of us, we would try everything. I smiled when I realized that I would do most of the trying.

  Lou and I took our food to the table, and sat down at the other end from Miss Winters. Then, just in case she was the murderer, we both made a pretense of forgetting something, left the table, and returned to the buffet line. By the time we got there, Christine Hunt and Imogene Ingram were standing in the buffet line. Mrs. Hunt looked up and spotted us.

  “Well, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

  “Well, I’ve heard the food’s good here.”

  “So is the company. Are those two places down at the end of the table where you’re sitting?”

  I nodded and took off for my seat as I carefully looked at my food to see if any enhancements were added. Everything looked the same as I had left it, but then things might have looked the same to Mrs. Higgins, too.