by Parnell Hall
“Yeah, but you do that every week.”
“My, you’ve gotten feisty since your boyfriend got married.”
“Thank you.”
“So how about it? Think you can work your wiles on Dennis?”
“I’d rather be staked naked to an anthill.”
“Good point.”
“Well, speaking entirely as a lawyer, it occurs to me if Dennis doesn’t want to tell us what he knows, there’s not much we can do about it.”
“Right.”
“On the other hand, if he doesn’t tell Chief Harper, he’d be guilty of withholding evidence, compounding a felony, and conspiring to conceal a crime.”
Cora smiled.
“For a Barbie doll, you have a keen legal mind.”
Chapter 26
Chief Harper’s office was filled with Overmeyer heirs. It was a veritable bonanza. The day before, he’d had only one. Today, there were no fewer than five clamoring for attention.
Cora stuck her head in the door. “Am I interrupting?”
Chief Harper looked as though he’d just been thrown a life-line. “Not at all. Come right in. These people were just leaving.”
A truculent gentleman in a three-piece suit took exception to the statement. “Leaving? I just got here. I have no intention of leaving until I find out what happened to my cousin.”
“Second cousin,” a middle-aged man corrected. His plaid jacket and red toupee clashed to the point of causing headaches, if not seizures.
The woman with him might have been drawn by Charles Addams. “Twice removed,” she sneered.
Since no introductions were forthcoming, Cora dubbed them Bozo and Cruella.
A blond woman in fishnet stockings and more makeup than the average chorus line batted her eyes at no one in particular. “It’s just so very sad.” Who she was and why it was sad for her were not readily apparent; still, if the woman wanted to think so, Cora couldn’t blame her for it. She could blame her for the makeup, which was simply god-awful. She looked like a hooker. Not necessarily female.
“Harumph,” said an elderly gentleman in the pack. At least that’s what Cora assumed he was saying. The actual noise might have been produced by yodeling with a collapsed lung. The man wore a white shirt buttoned to the neck and tan slacks belted to the armpits. He was shorter than Cora, which made him about four-fifths pants.
The Geezer, as Cora dubbed him, had captured her attention with his “harumph.” She waited for more. None was forthcoming. Apparently, he figured harumph covered the situation.
“Just a darn minute,” Bozo said. “I feel we’ve been gotten here under false pretenses. We show up for the reading of the will. No one said anything about a murder.”
“And there’s no damn will,” the pinstripe-suited man whined. Cora dubbed him Cranky Banker. “How do you like them apples? It’s up to us to sort the whole thing out.”
“Oh, yeah?” Cruella said. “As if that’ll happen now. It’s a murder. What do you think happens in those cases? They cut up the estate while they’re looking for the killer? I don’t think so. Isn’t that right, Officer?”
“It’s not my place to discuss the disposition of the estate.”
“Well, whose place is it? That’s what I want to know. Who’s the gentleman’s attorney?”
“By ‘the gentleman,’ you mean your dear departed uncle Overmeyer?” Cora put in.
“Who the hell are you?” Cruella demanded. “You better not be his sister. I know for a fact he had no sisters.”
There were many ways to Cora’s heart, but suggesting she might be the sister of an nonagenarian was not one of them. She cocked her head at Chief Harper. “Have you checked their alibis?”
That triggered an outburst of sputtered protests.
“Alibis?” Harper said.
“These people seem far too interested in the estate. One wonders if there might be something worth inheriting.”
“There’s no reason we should have to supply alibis,” Cruella said indignantly. “We were in Green Bay yesterday.”
“Look at that,” Cranky Banker said. “She says there’s no reason to supply alibis and immediately supplies one. I would look at her very closely if I were you.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Chief Harper said dryly. “Now, if you’d all just run along. Leave your names, addresses, and local contact numbers with the young officer at the desk.”
Chief Harper had barely got the gaggle of heirs out of the office before Dan Finley burst in to say he’d traced the bullet.
Chapter 27
Chief Harper squinted at the jumble of indecipherable chicken scratches on Dan Finley’s notepad. “I can’t read this. Where’s the paperwork?”
“It’s coming. They have to dig it up and copy it.”
“Can you read this?”
“Of course.” Dan picked up the pad. “Nineteen fifty-four. Convenience store robbery in Mobile, Alabama. Though they probably didn’t call them convenience stores back then. Just a roadside gas station that sold beer and soda. Probably a few groceries. Potato chips and the like.”
“Dan,” Chief Harper prompted.
“Two guys robbed the place and shot the owner dead. Guy went for his gun. Bad move. Probably didn’t have more than a hundred bucks in the till. Of course, it was worth more back then—”
“Dan.”
“Sorry. Just want you to get the picture. The robbers came out of the store as two innocent bystanders were going in.” Dan turned the notepad sideways, ran his finger over some pencil marks that appeared Japanese. “Claude Barnes and Mickey Dare. Just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They stopped for gas, heard the shots, saw two men come running out. One of the men opened fire, shot ’em both. Hopped in the car and escaped. They were never found. Though one of the witnesses survived and when he recovered, he gave a pretty good description of the men in that car.”
“He didn’t get the license plate number?” Harper asked.
“According to the cops, it’s a miracle he got anything at all. Shot in the chest. Lucky to be alive. He managed to crawl over, try to help his buddy before he passed out. No use. Stone dead, shot in the heart. Cops found the two of them lying together next to a storm drain. Blood was actually running down the drain. How do you like that? Crime’s over fifty years old, but some details they still remember. The blood running down the drain.”
“I get the symbolism,” Chief Harper said dryly. “I wasn’t planning on writing a book. Where does the gun come in?”
“Ah,” Finley said. “There were two guns used in the robbery. The clerk was shot with a three fifty-seven Magnum. The bystanders were shot with a thirty-two-caliber revolver. This morning, the police in Mobile matched up our bullet with the bullet taken from the body of the witness in the gas station robbery. Needless to say, the police are very interested to know where we got it.”
“What did you say?”
Dan smiled. “I told them the chief of police would give them a full report.”
Chief Harper grimaced. “Thanks a lot.”
Chapter 28
Becky Baldwin nibbled on a french fry.
“How can you eat french fries?” Cora said irritably.
“What? It’s heartless under the situation?”
“No, it’s unfair to eat fried foods and have a figure like that. If I ate french fries, I’d be big as a house.”
“You are eating french fries.”
“I rest my case.”
“What are you so cranky about? You just solved the mystery. You know the secret of Overmeyer’s gun.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Are you kidding? The gun was involved in a shooting. Overmeyer was a robber. He had a partner in crime. His partner was afraid he was about to come clean, so he killed him.”
“Yes, wouldn’t that be nice,” Cora said.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Just about everything. I spent the morning Googling Overmeyer. Which i
sn’t nearly as dirty as it sounds. You know what type of records they kept in 1954?”
“None?”
“That’s right. If the son of a bitch had died, I might have been able to find him. But that would have defeated the whole purpose.” Cora frowned. “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“That’s Bozo.”
“Who?”
“One of Overmeyer’s heirs. I bet he’s looking for you.”
“Big deal. No one knows I’m here.”
Cora and Becky were having lunch at the Wicker Basket. A popular home-style restaurant right in the middle of town, it did a brisk lunchtime business.
“Even so, I bet he is.”
“Don’t be silly,” Becky said. “He’s probably just here for lunch.”
Cruella de Vil stepped out from behind Bozo, pointed a finger.
“Ms. Baldwin?” Bozo said, swooping down on their table. “Ms. Rebecca Baldwin, attorney-at-law?”
Becky smiled. “I’m actually an attorney at lunch.”
“Are you the attorney for the Overmeyer estate?”
“Now, there you are inquiring into matters that are best discussed in a law office.”
“I’m not asking you to discuss the estate. I’m just asking if you’re handling it.”
“Come by my office.”
“There’s no reason to come by your office if you’re not handling it.”
Cora stuck her nose in. “You see this food here? There’s no reason to come by our table if you’re not handling it.”
“I’m not talking to you.”
“You’re not talking to me, either,” Becky said. She looked at her watch. “Two o’clock. In my office.”
“That’s going to be a little awkward,” Cora said as Bozo and Cruella slunk off.
“What?”
“Explaining you’re not the attorney for the estate.”
“It may be awkward for them. Not for me.”
“How are you going to explain that you made an inventory?”
“I’ll refer them to you.”
“Thanks a heap.”
“So, go on,” Becky said. “What’s the deal with this robbery? Which I would assume these jokers know nothing about.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. But Chief Harper hasn’t leaked it yet, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah. So what’s the deal? Overmeyer’s one of the robbers. His partner’s the other. If Overmeyer’s about to come clean, his partner’s the logical suspect.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Cora shook her head. “It’s like I said. If Overmeyer died, there’d be a record. The guy Overmeyer used to pal around with is Rudy Clemson. Korean War buddy. Guy from his platoon.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?”
“The war wasn’t over when they went home. Overmeyer took a round in the shoulder. Rudy had a head wound and shrapnel in his hip.”
“You making a case for post-traumatic stress?”
“Relax. You don’t have to defend these guys in court. They’re both dead.”
“What?”
“Like I said, the only way we’d have a record of Overmeyer is if he died. Well, same thing with Rudy What’s-his-face. Guy kicked the bucket just last year.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not according to the Macon County News Leader. If Overmeyer had a change of heart late in life and decided to come clean, there’s no reason for anyone to want to stop him.”
“Too bad,” Becky said. “Otherwise, he’d be just the age of the gentleman peering at us through the window.”
“Where?”
“Behind you.”
“I don’t want to turn around. Is he a little guy with his pants up to his armpits?”
“That’s him.”
“That’s the Geezer. Another heir I don’t know the name of. But you’re right, he’s just the age to be his partner if he didn’t happen to be dead.” Cora frowned. “I suppose that’s a careless use of pronouns.”
“Wait a minute. How do we know the guy who died was Overmeyer’s partner?”
“Good point. We don’t. At least, not for sure. But in the next twenty-four hours Dan Finley’s about to learn a lot more about Mobile, Alabama.”
The Geezer came in the front door, approached the table. “You look like Becky Baldwin.”
Cora cocked her head. “She does, doesn’t she? I think it’s the way the light plays off her hair.”
“You’re Overmeyer’s attorney.”
“There even seems to be some dispute about that,” Cora said.
“I ain’t interested in semantics. No offense meant. I know you’re that puzzle person.”
“How politically correct of you.”
“I understand you’ve been out to the cabin.”
“How do you understand that?” Cora said.
The Geezer made a face. “Why is it I speak to her and you answer?”
“That is unusual, isn’t it?” Cora said. “Usually, a lawyer speaks for you. Here I am, speaking for a lawyer.”
“Yeah, well, let the lawyer speak for herself. Come on, missy. Was you out there or not?”
“What’s your interest in the matter?”
“I’m Herbert’s cousin on his mother’s side. If you made an inventory, I’d like to know what you found.”
“You fixing to inherit?”
“Yeah. But not like them other ones, looking for cash. Grave robbers, that’s what they are. Rush in here, lookin’ for loot, find out he’s been killed. Serve ’em right.”
“You’re different from them how?” Cora said.
“Ain’t lookin’ for money. Lookin’ for things with sentimental value. Like the glove.”
“What glove?”
“Used to play catch. Out in the backyard. Herbert had a Rawlings glove. All beat up. Ain’t worth a damn.”
“You think one of the others would try to ace you out of it?” Cora said.
“Just ’cause it’s worthless don’t mean some idiot don’t wanna have it. Get some piece of junk ain’t worth a darn, sell it on eBay. If the glove ain’t mentioned in the will, they’ll be fightin’ over it. Glove mentioned in the will?”
“I’m not in a position to comment on that.”
The Geezer nodded. “ ’Course not. ’Cause that’d be useful. Did you happen to see the glove when you was takin’ inventory? Surely you can tell me that.”
Becky sighed. “I’m not in a position to confirm or deny.”
“Why not? You either saw it or you didn’t.”
“I can’t set that precedent.”
“You can’t what?”
“If I tell you if there’s a glove, some other heir’s gonna ask me if I found a safe.”
“Didja?”
“See? If I tell you I didn’t see a glove, they’ll say, ‘Well, you told him there’s no glove, how come you can’t tell me there’s no safe?’ And when I don’t answer, they’ll take that to mean there’s a safe.”
“You’re telling me there’s no glove but there’s a safe?”
“No. I’m telling you that’s what people will think.”
“When’s the will gonna be read?”
“I have no idea.”
“Then there’s a will?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You said you don’t know when it’s gonna be read.”
“I don’t. That means that in the event the will should exist, I don’t know when it will be read.”
“You sure sound like an attorney. Even if you don’t look like one.”
Harmon Overmeyer swooped down on the table. “I knew it! I heard there were heirs in town. You’re one of them. You’re here for the money. If any. It’s going to be very funny when they saw up the cabin and split it six ways.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m Harmon Overmeyer. The closest heir. The only heir, as far as I’m concerned. And I’ll be taking a clo
se look at some of these extremely tenuous claims.”
“Well, you go right ahead and look,” the Geezer said. “I’m not making any claims, except what’s rightfully mine. If you plan to screw me out of it, I’ll be lookin’ closely at you. How come you know so much about the estate? You been out there?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, you ain’t goin’, neither. Not till probate says you can. You ain’t beatin’ me out of anything.”
“You have no right to anything.”
“Well, you ain’t gettin’ your greedy mitts on anything that’s mine.”
“Oh, is that so? I warned the policeman, now I’m warning the lawyer. I don’t want these guys near the place, you hear? Not before me. Or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
Harmon Overmeyer turned on his heel and stalked off.
“Rather upset, isn’t he?” The Geezer grinned fiendishly and trotted after him.
“Well, that spoiled our lunch,” Cora said.
“No kidding. Wanna tell Chief Harper?”
“Tell him what? That these guys don’t like each other? That’s hardly news.”
“What if they kill each other?”
Cora grinned. “Go ahead. Make my day.”
Chapter 29
Cora got home to find Brenda Wallenstein waiting in the driveway. As Sherry’s best friend at college, Brenda had always been what the boys called “pleasingly plump.” Since marrying Sherry’s ex-husband, Brenda had put on a few extra pounds. Cora usually celebrated springing the trap by splurging on extra dessert, but there was such a thing as overdoing it. Brenda’s free-flowing smock unfavorably echoed an opera singer.
Cora forced a smile. “Hello, Brenda. What are you doing here?”
“As if you didn’t know.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that like it sounds. I know it’s his fault. It is his fault, isn’t it? I’m not just paranoid? Dennis has been around?”
“He passed through town, Brenda. Not that it matters. Sherry isn’t here.”
“Exactly. So what’s he doing?”
Cora sighed. “Brenda, I know you don’t want to hear this, but the man you chose to marry is seriously disturbed.”
“Stop it! That’s the easy answer. That’s the answer for everything. Dismiss his actions on the grounds they’re not rational.”