by Marja McGraw
“Chance, tell me a little more about Alice. She must have some redeeming qualities or you wouldn’t have become friends in the first place.”
“She admired me.”
That was it? The only reason for the friendship was because Alice admired Chance? I finished my sandwich in silence. Glancing at her from time to time, it looked like she was thinking things over. I let her be.
We finished eating and I walked into the kitchen. Reaching over the breakfast bar, I picked up the plates and glasses and put them in the sink.
“Would you wash those while I clean the stove?” Chance asked.
“Sure.” I checked under the sink and found the dishwashing liquid.
Chance was humming again.
“I don’t think I’ve ever come right out and asked you,” I said. “Who do you think killed Charles and Sam?”
“Sam?” Chance’s voice sounded odd.
I took a quick breath. I’d forgotten to tell her that we’d found a second body.
“Oh, Chance, I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you about Sam.”
“Sam?” she said. “They found Sam’s body, too?”
“Yes. He was buried in the backyard.”
“They found Sam’s body,” she repeated.
I turned and looked at her, feeling bad that I’d told her this way. I couldn’t read the look on her face, but it was probably shock.
“Do you want to sit down?” I asked.
“No. Let’s finish up here.”
I turned back to the dishes and my mind started whirring. I remembered Jim looking puzzled when he was looking at the photographs. And with a clarity I’d never experienced before, I began to put things together.
Excusing myself, I walked out to the living room and picked up all the pictures. It was the one of Alice and Chance that held my attention. I focused on their dresses. One had white buttons, and the other one had wooden buttons. There was a slight shadow indicating something on the buttons.
“What is it?” Chance called from the kitchen.
“Nothing,” I replied. “I just wanted to take another look.” I returned to the dishes, remembering snippets of conversations.
Smokey Joe said she’d been described to him as “such a quiet little thing” before he’d moved into the boarding house. Quiet and little. It could be nothing, but he’d said little. Chance was tall, and not at all quiet.
How did Chance know the body was buried under a cement slab? It hadn’t struck me at the time she’d said it, but she’d known.
“That picture of me and Alice seems to be pretty interesting to you,” Chance said. “You know… ”
Jim had referred to Chance as cute. She might have been a lot of things, but “cute” wasn’t one of them.
And one more thing. John had mentioned visiting the boarding house when he was young, but Chance said she’d only met John a few years ago.
Uh oh.
Before I could think about any of the other things we’d learned, the front door flew open and banged against the wall. In what felt like slow motion, I raised my head and looked across the room. Chris stood there with his hands waving in the air. Jim stood behind him with his mouth hanging open.
“ALICE! NO!” Chris yelled.
Alice?
Chapter Thirty-six
Alice?
I turned to find Chance standing behind me, by the stove, holding the cast iron skillet in the air. Her arms were trembling from the weight.
“What…” I automatically threw my arms up in a defensive posture.
Alice tried to swing the skillet, but it dropped with a loud thud. She put her hands to her face and began to quietly cry.
Chris ran across the room and pulled me out of the kitchen. “Janet’s on her way. I called her on the cell phone.” He held me tight, almost squeezing the air out of me. I could hear sirens off in the distance.
Jim walked slowly into the apartment. “Alice,” he said softly. “It was you, all the time.”
Chance, or Alice, or whoever she was, lifted her head and looked at Jim, hatred streaming out of her eyes. “You ruined everything, you old coot. I hated you then, and I hate you now, you piece of dirt. I…” She slumped to the floor and continued to cry.
The sirens became louder, and abruptly stopped whining. Janet ran in the apartment with two uniformed coppers following her.
“Explain, Bogey Man. What’s going on here?” I asked, pushing him away.
“This is Alice, not Chance.”
And everything finally clicked into place. Click. Click. Click.
***
Alice – and yes, she was Alice – was arrested and taken to the police station. Janet filled us in on the story as soon as she could, which turned out to be the next morning.
For starters, it turned out John was Alice’s nephew, not Chance’s. He knew something wasn’t right, and he knew Alice had taken over Chance’s identity, but Alice told him Chance died in an accident and she’d assumed her identity. With all that money as an incentive, he’d let her lead Chance’s life. It had never struck us that as Chance’s sister’s son his name wouldn’t have been Murphy. Apparently, it never struck him either. John was the one who’d broken into our house – at Alice’s request.
“But what happened?” I asked. “Did Alice really kill both men? And where’s the real Chance?”
Janet leaned forward, resting her elbows on the kitchen table. “Chance Murphy was a sweet, innocent and way too trusting woman, from what we’ve learned. By the time Alice moved into the boarding house, Chance had already lost her parents and inherited their estate. There was no sister, so Chance got it all. And Alice wanted it, along with everything else. She insinuated herself into Chance’s life fairly easily. Like I said, Chance was too trusting.”
“Again, did Alice kill both men?” I asked.
“She did. She began pilfering things from Chance and blaming it on Charles Blakely. Blakely figured it out and confronted Alice. She apologized and acted penitent.
“One day when everyone was out, not long after the confrontation, she asked Charles to help her bring something up from the basement. Chance had let her store some boxes down there. She opened one of them and took out that frying pan you saw and clocked Blakely over the head when he turned to leave the basement. She dug the hole and buried him. Then she asked Chance if she would mind putting in a cement slab to protect the things she had stored there. Of course, Chance had someone come in right away and lay the cement.”
“Was it Alice who wrote the notes to Charles?”
“Yes. She actually liked him in the beginning, but that changed when he wouldn’t respond to her advances.”
“What about Sam Shipley?” Chris asked.
“Ah, Sam Shipley. He didn’t scare Chance, as Alice said he did. He scared Alice. He pretty much had her number, based on what she told us, and he threatened her.
“When Charles moved out, or so Sam thought, he moved out, too. Blakely really did owe Sam some money, so after spending a month with his sister, he came back looking for him. Alice answered the door, but Sam heard one of the new boarders call her Chance before she could say anything to him. He left without asking about Blakely. After thinking things over, he figured out that Alice had taken over Chance’s identity. Returning to the house, he asked what she’d done to Chance. Alice told him that he should be ashamed of himself for thinking he’done anything. He told her that she was the one who should be ashamed.”
“So how did he end up dead?” I asked.
“He came back a third time. Apparently he watched the house and waited until he knew she’d be there alone. Again, he asked her what she’d done to Chance. She told him to follow her to the basement and she’d show him. Like a fool, he did. She pointed out the cement to him. Before he could turn to see what she was talking about, she took the frying pan and gave him the same treatment as Blakely. We don’t know how she got him out to the backyard or why she buried him there. She wouldn’t tell us, saying it didn’t
matter.”
“Wow,” I said. “But we didn’t find Chance’s body in the basement, so what was that all about?”
“After Blakely and Shipley were out of the picture, Alice suggested a little vacation to Las Vegas. Dudley Long had given his notice and moved, so the house would be empty. Chance wouldn’t need to worry about anything while they were gone, and she could rent out the rooms when they returned. Alice returned, but Chance didn’t. Alice left her body out in the desert somewhere between here and Las Vegas.”
“Alice wanted it all for herself,” Chris said.
“Give the man a prize,” Janet said. “You’re right on target. She returned from the desert and took over Chance’s name and life. But she couldn’t let go of that damned cast iron skillet. She said as long as she kept using it to cook, no one would suspect it had been used to commit two murders. Can you believe that?”
Chris and I looked at each other. She’d almost used the skillet again, and she would have gotten away with it if it hadn’t been for Jim.
“Why wasn’t Alice living high on the hog, considering she had access to all of Chance’s money?” Chris asked.
“Alice never went anywhere because she was afraid someone would know she wasn’t Chance, and that’s why she lived at the retirement village. She only spends the money on little things. Her fear of being discovered, even after all those years, had become her constant companion. By the way, Alice was a few years younger than Chance. Not that it matters, but I couldn’t help wondering how a woman of ninety could look as good as she does.” Janet seemed to have all the answers.
It was my turn to have a question answered. “Chris, I never asked. How did you know about Alice?”
“Jim called, but you’d already left for the retirement village,” Chris said. “He told me he’d finally figured out what was bothering him about the photograph of Chance and Alice. He’d gotten the two women mixed up in his mind. When Alice introduced herself as Chance, he automatically remembered the tall one as Chance. But after seeing the picture, he realized his mistake. Chance was the short blonde.
“When I told him you’d left to see Chance, he was frantic. He said he had a ‘bad feeling’ about the whole thing. I told him to wait for me, and to keep an eye on the apartment. I drove over there as fast as I could and found Jim waiting by the curb for me. You know the rest.”
“What will happen to Alice?” I asked.
“She’ll stand trial for Blakely’s and Shipley’s murders. Since she’s confessed to everything, it’s a no-brainer. Unfortunately, there’s no possibility of finding Chance’s body. By the way, Chance had no family after her parents died. Since Alice confessed to Chance’s murder, too, we’ll just have to wait to see what the D.A. says.”
***
Sharon Stone, the reporter of my nightmares, had been so good about leaving us alone that Janet and I visited her together and gave her an exclusive story. She was elated, to say the least.
Before Alice could go to trial she had a massive brain hemorrhage and died instantly.
John eventually went to trial and was convicted on a few different charges, including fraud, breaking and entering and theft, but he had nothing to do with the murders so he wouldn’t spend too much time in the cooler.
Internal Affairs took a good look at Janet because of our involvement in her case, but she said she was leaving the force anyway. As it turned out, she didn’t leave the department, nor did anything come of the investigation. Somehow I had a feeling that Charlotte might have pulled in a few favors. Janet did overhear Charlotte’s name mentioned.
We attended Alice’s funeral. I don’t know why, but it seemed like the right thing to do. No one else was there, not even John.
***
Big D finished the restaurant in record time, and true to her word, Sharon wrote a wonderful story about Bogey Nights. She raved about the food and entertainment, and never referred to the murders. She ended the article in bold print with, “Bogey Nights – where excellent cuisine and great atmosphere abound, including a band playing vintage music for you to dance to all night long – or in the words of the Bogey Man, where you can enjoy a little hooch and cut a rug, too.”
We had a “soft” opening, which meant the first night was by invitation only. We were hiring the band Monday Moonshine because they were great with forties music, but they’d changed their name to Bogey’s Boys, at least while they played for us. They had to finish a previous commitment before starting at Bogey Nights.
Phyllis and Gloria, our Marilyn Monroe and Myrna Loy look-alikes, were there in all their glory (and in costume) to help us start down our new path. Chef Luis outdid himself on opening night, plus he made up some special treats for Sherlock and Watson, who gratefully accepted them from their spot in the backyard. After all, they had saved his life the night of the fire at the other restaurant. With two more look-alike waiters, we were set. Oh, yes, I should mention that one waiter looked like John Wayne, and one closely resembled a young Frank Sinatra.
Opening night arrived and our special guests arrived with it. Freddi came with her husband and grandson, and invited Mikey to sit with them. Our little Ace was in his glory, telling stories about his mother and father, who had become private investigators. Of course my friend Constance was there, and she sat with this group and added sidebar comments to Mikey’s stories.
Tad, the young man we’d bought my antique desk from, arrived with his wife, Trish. I asked him if he’d found a job yet, and he hadn’t. “Enjoy yourselves tonight, and come talk to Chris and me tomorrow. We might have something for you.”
Midge and her husband, Pidge and Charlotte arrived together – in a limo no less. We were quite busy, so when Charlotte asked if there was a second entrance into the bar and asked if her chauffer could come in that way to bring us a gift, I never gave it a second thought.
Shelly, Stuart and Jim arrived by taxi, and they were dressed to the nines. Shelly was even smiling.
Janet and Don walked in with Rick Mason, another homicide detective, and his date, a tall, leggy redhead. Chris and I already knew Rick because he’d been the detective in charge the last time we’d been involved with a murder. What we didn’t know was that Rick was Charlotte’s great-nephew, the one Janet had been sharing information with over the past week.
Even Pastor Findlay came with his wife, Shirley. They said they wouldn’t miss our opening for all the tea in China, and then my pastor said a prayer for the success of our new restaurant. Chris even bowed his head and joined in before continuing to seat customers.
Big D and Sharon, along with Davey’s crew, arrived after everyone else. Sharon beamed when I gave her a hug and thanked her for her story.
Mikey’s teacher, Mrs. Stanhope, and her husband never showed up, much to my delight.
Everyone complimented us on our restaurant and its forties theme. When the food started arriving, along with champagne, compliments to the chef abounded, too.
I called Chris aside. “I think you’d better make an announcement that we have no band tonight, but tell everyone that the whole evening is on us. We’ll put in a CD or something.”
Chris cringed at the thought of all the freebies we were giving away, but he never said a word. He headed for the front of the room and called for everyone’s attention. “I’m afraid I have an announcement to make about tonight’s entertainment. Due to – ”
And an orchestra started playing In the Mood. They sounded so much like the Glenn Miller Orchestra!
Glancing around the room, my eyes rested on Charlotte. She tipped her head at me and grinned.
Knowing there wasn’t enough room in our cocktail lounge for an orchestra, Chris and I hurriedly walked into the bar and looked at the stage. There were three women standing on stage, talking.
Chris glanced at me and shrugged, and I looked back through the door to the restaurant, finding Charlotte now standing near the front entrance. She inclined her head toward the front yard, where we found a full-fledged orchestra
.
They finished the song and started another energetic tune; Boogey Woogey Bugle Boy. The women on stage began to sing and that’s when we realized someone had hooked up speakers leading from the yard to the restaurant. I glanced back inside the restaurant, and Big D gave me a thumbs up with a huge grin.
People came out of other businesses up and down the street, and the audience grew.
It was about that time that Charlotte walked over to us, napkin in hand. “Are you two ready for more detective work? I have a friend who could use some help.”
About the Author
Marja McGraw worked in both criminal and civil law enforcement for several years in California. She eventually relocated to Northern Nevada where she worked in the transportation field. She also did a stint in Oregon where she worked for a County Sheriff’s Office and owned her own business, a Tea Room/Antique Store. Her next stop was Wasilla, Alaska. The draw to Northern Nevada was strong, and she eventually returned.
She wrote a weekly column for a small newspaper in No. Nevada and she was the editor for the Sisters in Crime Internet Newsletter for a year and a half.
Marja has appeared on the morning news in Reno, Nevada, and in Laughlin, Nevada. She’s also been a guest on several radio and Internet radio shows.
Starting with Mysteries of Holt House, A Mystery, Marja followed up with A Well-Kept Family Secret - A Sandi Webster Mystery and the beginning of the Sandi Webster series. Bubba’s Ghost, Prudy’s Back!, The Bogey Man, Old Murders Never Die and Death Comes in Threes followed.
Bogey Nights – A Bogey Man Mystery, the first book in a new series was followed by Bogey’s Ace in the Hole, They Call Me Ace and Awkward Moments.
She says that each of her mysteries contains a little humor, a little romance and a little murder, and that her books concentrate on the characters and solving the crime rather than the crime itself.