Arsenic and Old Puzzles

by Parnell Hall

  “There is no light switch,” Dan Finley said.

  “The cord. Whatever the hell turns on the light.”

  “I got you,” Dan said. “Here, take my hand.”

  Dan grabbed Cora, pulled her out. “That’s not a very deep hole.”

  “Hey, it’s not like I couldn’t get out of it myself. I just didn’t want to crawl out on my hands and knees in the dark. Okay, the cellar door’s there. Assuming there’s no more holes, the lightbulb is right about here.”

  Cora picked her way in the dark, testing each footstep before she put her weight on it. She flailed her arms, batted the string.

  “Aha!”

  “You got it?”

  “No, but I hit it. It was right here somewhere. And … there we go!”

  Cora pulled the string.

  The lightbulb came on. It was low wattage, probably a sixty, but after the pitch-darkness that had engulfed them, it was like a spotlight.

  Cora looked at the hole she’d fallen in.

  She gasped.

  As Dan said, it wasn’t really deep. But by the dirt piled along one side, and the spade stuck into the ground at one end, there was no doubt what it was.

  It was a freshly dug grave.

  Attached to the shovel was a sudoku.

  Chapter

  29

  “GUILFORD BASEMENT MURDER FARM.”

  “Too clunky,” Cora said.

  “MURDER FARM.”

  “Not specific enough.”

  “All right,” Aaron said. “How about GUILFORD HOUSE MURDER FARM?”

  “That’s as bad as GUILFORD BASEMENT.”

  “It’s one fewer syllable.”

  “It still sucks. How can a house be a farm?”

  “What if they were growing pot in the basement?”

  “Edith and Charlotte? I don’t think so.”

  “Come on. GUILFORD HOUSE POT FARM.”

  Aaron was making up headlines for the story he hoped to write if the police uncovered anything. If they did, Aaron wouldn’t know it because Chief Harper had booted Cora out of there right after they found the grave. Which, in Cora’s opinion, was somewhat high-handed. After all, she was the one who found it. Granted, by falling in it, but still.

  Nonetheless, the lid was on tight. The Chief had booted Cora, called in Sam Brogan, who wasn’t happy about it—no surprise there, there was very little Sam was happy about—and Chief Harper, Dan Finley, and Sam Brogan were digging up the basement.

  Before he kicked her out, Chief Harper had read Cora the riot act, which killed Aaron because he was family, and because he had promised not to go, a promise he made grudgingly in order to get her to open up. Banned from the house till the news broke, Aaron was working on a story in case it did. He had already banged out a draft on his laptop. If bodies were forthcoming, he was good to go.

  “You gotta remember you’re talking front-page headline,” Cora said. “Banner headline. Less is more. A single word could be really effective.”

  “What single word?”

  Cora made a face. “That’s the problem. You’ve already got MURDER. You’ve already got POISON. You’ve already got a second killing. A new angle’s hard.”

  “Could I run the sudoku?”

  Cora grimaced. “That’s tricky. Chief Harper hasn’t even seen it yet. The solution, I mean.”

  “Well, there you are. Can’t you drive out there and give it to him?”

  “He figured I’d do that. He told me not to.”

  “He doesn’t want to see it?”

  “It’s not urgent. It doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “See for yourself.”

  Aaron picked it up, looked it over.

  “So what does it mean?” Cora said.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Exactly.”

  Cora and Aaron were in the living room of the new addition. With modern, stainless steel furniture, more like a company reception area than a living room, it was a space rarely used. Sherry was usually upstairs with the baby, or in the living room of the old house, the latter too often for Cora’s liking. Jennifer was a cute kid, of course, but babies could be boring, particularly when they hadn’t learned to walk or talk yet.

  Sherry came in with the baby, said, “What are you doing here?”

  “Daddy’s making up gruesome headlines for his newspaper story. If you heard some of them, you’d divorce him.”

  “You wrote the story already?” Sherry said.

  “Two versions,” Aaron told her.

  “Two?”

  “One version if they find a dead body. Another if they find more than one.”

  “That’s pretty ghoulish,” Sherry said. She put Jennifer down on the wood floor. The baby immediately took off for the fireplace.

  “This room is not childproof,” Aaron said.

  “I’m watching her,” Sherry said. “You think I’m not watching her?”

  Buddy, who’d been sleeping under the couch, jumped up and ran to the baby.

  Sherry picked Jennifer up.

  “Why do you do that?” Cora said. “You’ll make her afraid of dogs.”

  “She’s too little to play with one.”

  “Buddy wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “What if she pulls his tail?”

  “She’d have to catch it first.”

  “If you want her to meet the dog, we have to have a supervised meeting, where we’re all paying attention and Daddy isn’t writing newspaper headlines.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Cora said. “Daddy will always be writing newspaper headlines.”

  Sherry sat on the couch, bounced Jennifer on her knee. Jennifer giggled appreciatively. “How will you know if they found anything?” Sherry said.

  “Chief Harper will call me.”

  “Really? Then why did he boot you out of there?”

  “He couldn’t let me stay. It wouldn’t look good.”

  “When has he ever cared how things looked?”

  “He’s keeping it quiet. He doesn’t want any publicity if he can help it.”

  “Then he won’t call you.”

  “He’ll call me.”

  “In time to do Aaron any good? Dan Finley’s going to tip off Rick Reed. Who’s tipping you off?”

  “She’s got a point,” Aaron said. “If I’m going to be a good boy and not go out there. Suppose they already found a body?”

  “There’s no body,” Cora said. “If there was, it would have been in the grave.”

  “Yeah, if it’s the only grave down there. If we’re talking murder farm…”

  “You’re really stuck on that headline.”

  “Yeah, but he’s right,” Sherry said. “If they’re finding bodies down there, he needs to know.”

  “Okay,” Cora said. “I’ll drive out there. If there’s an EMS unit, we’ll know it’s pay dirt.”

  “What will you do then?”

  “I’ll come back and tell you.”

  “You can’t call me?”

  “I don’t have a phone.”

  “I’ll give you mine.”

  “The hell you will. I’ll lose it, or I won’t figure out how to dial it.”

  “Okay, I’ll drive out there.”

  “I promised Chief Harper I wouldn’t say anything. If you do, he’ll know I did.”

  “He won’t even know. I’ll just drive by.”

  “With my luck, he’ll be outside when you do.” Cora heaved herself up from the couch. “There’s an easier way.”

  Cora went into the new kitchen. Like the living room, it was gleaming bright and barely used. Like the old kitchen, it had a phone on the wall.

  Cora called information, got the phone number for Dr. Nathan, punched it in.

  The receptionist answered. “Dr. Nathan’s office.”

  “Dr. Nathan, please.”

  “Did you want to make an appointment?”

  “No, I just want to talk to him.”

  “Wh
o’s calling, please?”

  “Cora Felton.”

  “Just a moment.”

  Cora was on hold.

  Moments later, Barney Nathan’s voice came over the line. “Hello?”

  “Barney. Cora. Still in the office?”

  “Actually, I’m with a patient. Why?”

  “Didn’t mean to bother you. Just wanted to know if you were okay.”

  There was a pause.

  “Yeah. I’m with a patient right now.”

  “Of course. Didn’t mean to bother you, doc.” Cora hung up, went back into the living room. “There you go. Barney Nathan’s in his office. If they’d found a body, he’d be at the crime scene.”

  “That’s pretty convincing,” Sherry said. “See? Nothing’s going on.”

  “I suppose so,” Aaron said grudgingly.

  “I know so,” Sherry said. “Good thinking, Cora.”

  “Huh?”

  “Good deduction. I’m sure you’re right.”

  “Oh,” Cora said.

  She was sure she was right, too, but her mind was elsewhere.

  She was thinking about that pause before he said he was with a patient.

  Chapter

  30

  Cora snaked her arm out from under the covers, flailed for the phone, knocked the receiver on the floor. She groped for it, picked it up, snarled, “Hello?”

  There was a pause.

  She tried again, slightly less hostile. “Hello?”

  A rather hesitant voice said, “Cora?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Barney Nathan. I’m sorry to call so late.”

  “It’s not late,” Cora said. She looked around in the dark for the glow of the digital clock. It was ten to twelve. “Not late at all. What’s up, Barney?”

  “Ah, nothing. I, eh, I was at the Country Kitchen…”

  “You’re there now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hang on, I’ll be right there.”

  Cora hung up the phone, missed, cursed, picked up the receiver, finished the task. She threw back the covers, swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  She was wearing a long, flannel nightgown, perfect for sleeping alone, loose and roomy, but still snug and comfy. She staggered into the bathroom, slapped cold water on her face. Looked in the mirror.

  She was a wreck. An old racehorse trotted out too many times with nothing left for the stretch run.

  The hell she was, Cora told herself. Even her ex-husband Melvin was still interested. Of course he hadn’t seen her staggering out of bed half asleep in her finest flannels.

  Cora pulled the nightgown over her head, surveyed herself in the mirror. Not bad. She could afford to take off ten pounds—well, maybe twenty.

  Cora brushed her teeth, staggered back into the bedroom.

  Okay, what the hell could she wear?

  Well, bra and panties would be a start. Okay, how much lace were we talking? Somewhere between spinster and slut. Black? White? Sheer?

  Aw, hell, it was almost midnight. She couldn’t be all dolled up at midnight. What, was she sitting around in nylons and high heels in case somebody called? What the hell would she have been wearing if she weren’t in bed?

  In point of fact, she’d be lounging in her Wicked Witch of the West outfit, the tattered stained smock with the cigarette holes in it. Not exactly clothing to be seen in.

  But what was?

  It occurred to Cora life didn’t used to be so hard.

  Chapter

  31

  Barney Nathan was sitting at the bar, nursing a drink. Cora had wondered if he would have his bow tie on. He did, so at least he hadn’t had that many. No one could sit in a bar long without untying a bow tie.

  His back was to the door, and he didn’t see her come in. Cora walked up, sat on the stool next to him. “Hi, Barney.”

  He looked over, gave her a somewhat sheepish grin.

  Cora was dressed in a tan sweater and brown skirt, simple, understated, earth mother. Not her usual role, though she wasn’t sure what her usual role was anymore.

  “Sorry to call so late.”

  “You already said that, Barney. When you’re sitting in a bar alone, it’s never that late.”

  “I’m not drunk.”

  “I could tell.”

  There were few people still drinking at that hour. The bartender was attentive.

  “Diet Coke,” Cora said.

  Barney’s glass was half full. He shook his head.

  “You don’t drink?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “I quit to get married.”

  “That was a requirement?”

  “It wasn’t a deal breaker. He wanted me to.”

  “You stayed sober, even after you got divorced?”

  “I never got divorced.”

  “Oh?”

  “I never got married, if you’ll recall.”

  “Oh.” Barney flushed, recalling he had performed the autopsy on Cora’s prospective husband. “Sorry. Stupid of me.”

  “Water under the bridge. Anyway, I’ve stayed clean and sober. Or at least sober. What’s your situation? Wife move out?”

  “No.”

  “She gonna?”

  “She’s not.”

  “So you are. Good thing your office isn’t in your home.”

  “Yeah, lucky.”

  “Have any kids?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s a piece of cake.”

  “Really?”

  “No, hurts like hell. Every single time. It’s your first time, so it hurts more. You blame yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Well, that you don’t blame yourself. Not good if she was running around.”

  Barney sighed heavily. “This was a mistake.”

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to be flip. I’m just not used to sitting in a bar with a man without drinking.” Cora picked up her Coke. “You know I almost made work for you?”

  “Oh?”

  “Found a grave in the basement of the Guilford house.”

  “What?”

  “No body, just a grave. Freshly dug. The cops dug up the basement looking for a body. Couldn’t find anything.”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “I have no idea. None.”

  “They said on TV it’s like that movie. Of course it’s Rick Reed, so you don’t know what to believe.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. But it is like the movie. Have you seen it?”

  “No.”

  “You’re kidding. You haven’t seen Arsenic and Old Lace? You ought to see it.” After a pause, she said, “I’ve got the DVD.”

  There was another pause.

  “You said some nasty things about me,” Barney said.

  “Of course I did. But that wasn’t personal, it was business. Like in The Godfather. If Ratface is trying to prove somebody guilty, and I don’t think he did it, of course I’m going to start poking holes in the evidence.”

  Barney snorted. “Ratface?”

  “Huh?”

  “You really call him Ratface?”

  “Well, just to Chief Harper. Not to his ratty face.”

  “What do you call me?”

  “I don’t have a nickname for you, Barney.”

  “You said I missed a cause of death or two.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “But I’m not a bad doctor.”

  “Not at all. Think about it. There was nothing wrong with your medical findings. Any doctor in the world would have come up with the same thing. Any fault I might find with the result is not based on any medical expertise. I have none. I merely used nonmedical factors of which you had not been informed and which you were not called upon to judge to indicate the possibility of another result. Is that your fault? I don’t think so.”

  “You certainly implied it was.”

  “Implied, schmied. You gonna throw a pie in a knife fight?” Cora frowned. “That is a strange
metaphor, but you get what I mean.” She put her hand on his arm. “Barney. So I called you incompetent. You ought to hear what I called some of my ex-husbands. I called Henry a moron. I called Frank a loser. You wouldn’t believe the things I called Melvin.”

  Cora smiled, patted Barney on the cheek. “Hell, incompetent is practically a term of endearment.”

  Chapter

  32

  Cora woke up to the sound of the doorbell—loud, long, and insistent. She hopped up, pulled on a robe, closed the bedroom door behind her, and hurried through the house.

  Chief Harper stood on the stoop. “What the hell is it with everybody, you can’t even answer your phone?”

  “I turned off my phone.”

  “What?”

  “The ring. I turned off the ring. So I wouldn’t be woken up in the middle of the night again.”

  “Even for a murder?”

  “You got one?”

  “I got two.”

  Cora’s mouth fell open. “Oh, my God! The old ladies?”

  “No. The guests.”

  “What guests?”

  “The ones who disappeared. They didn’t skip out, they just got killed.”

  “Where?”

  “Back of the high school. Where the kids go to make out. Couple of seniors found ’em. Probably scare ’em off sex for years.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. Where were they? In their car?”

  Harper shook his head. “No. In the back of the abandoned school bus.”

  “Abandoned?”

  “Broken down; they haven’t managed to tow it away. Kids go in there to neck.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Sam Brogan did.”

  “Sam Brogan necks in a school bus?”

  “He’s rousted kids out of it. Busted in on them with a flashlight.”

  “Now that’s enough to put them off sex. IDs on the body?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know it’s them?”

  “I’ve seen them.”

  “Oh. Right. So you don’t know their names?”

  “No.”

  “Why don’t you trace the car?”

  “It’s gone, too. Dan’s calling rental agencies.”

  “I thought you already did that.”

  “We were looking for a car that got returned early. Now we’re looking for one that didn’t come back at all.”

  “That’s incredible.”