The Connecticut Corpse Caper

by Tyler Colins

  “And the others were what – collateral damage?” he smiled dryly. “One more vital question: when did your friend and the Sayahs woman get togethah? It would have to have been before this bizarre affair started.”

  I drew a deep breath. Suddenly the reasoning seemed lame and pedestrian.

  Noticing my dejection, the sheriff chuckled and gave my shoulder a gentle pat. “We'll get there.”

  * * *

  An hour and a half later three super sleuths (in our dreams) were conferring in the library-study.

  Rey whistled and pulled a photo gently from Aunt Mat's fingers. “Johnny 'Sherlock' Gorcey sure has a great memory, and even better sources.”

  “That looks like proof to me,” our aunt said triumphantly.

  The photo showed a well-dressed very different looking Linda Royale sitting by a tall French-style window in an upscale Manhattan restaurant with Thomas Saturne. It had been taken maybe sixteen months ago. Her hair was neatly arranged in a chignon and she wore a metallic brocade jacket with mandarin collar and red seamless tank. He was dressed in typical Thomas Saturne frump-wear: an ill-fitting ash-gray striped suit with an off-the-rack white shirt and drab gray tie. They were drinking red wine and nibbling tapas. From the smiles, it looked more personal than business, but the photographer may have caught them during a casual moment.

  “I wouldn't call that proof. Curious yes, condemning no,” I warned. “She admitted having met him re legal business. Nothing here suggests otherwise.”

  Rey sighed. “Too bad we don't have an after dinner photo.”

  “I can't see Linda and Thomas romping in the sack. That's too repugnant an image,” I said.

  Another sigh. “You're right. She's not his type.”

  “She's stylish in a mature and conservative way, but young emotionally,” Aunt Mat advised. “She wouldn't be romantically interested in a stuffed shirt like Thomas.”

  Rey strolled to the door to answer an insistent knock.

  “Phones are still down in places. Powah, too. It should be getting bettah out there, nawt worse.” Lewis ambled to the windows and peered out with a frown. “Jeana's a real troopah and getting bettah by the moment. Gwynne's nawt faring well, and I'm worried.” He exhaled at length and turned.

  “The flu can be quite debilitating,” Aunt Mat said lightly.

  “I had one last spring that kept me in bed for four days,” Rey acknowledged with an emphatic nod.

  His smile was as brittle as a stack of long-discarded pine needles. “Did you ladies find anything?”

  Aunt Mat motioned Rey, who held up the photo still clutched in her hand.

  He took it, studied it, and passed it back. “Where's the smoking gun? Or in this case maybe I should say the blowgun?”

  “Do you think we could play one gal against the other to get one or both to slip up?” Rey asked.

  “It would never work. Prunella's too shrewd. Linda's potentially screwed up for all we know,” I responded.

  On the next floor, immediately above, a thud like a body contacting a hardwood floor was followed by a crash of ceramic or heavy glass.

  Several seconds later, Budd's bass voice boomed from upstairs. “Sheriff!” Another thud followed.

  Lewis' lips drew into a dour line and he whirled, hastening into the hallway.

  “That doesn't sound promising,” Aunt Mat murmured.

  “So not promising,” Rey agreed.

  We glanced at each other and scurried after him like children chasing an ice-cream truck.

  * * *

  “What's the ruckus about?” Sheriff Lewis demanded as we stormed into Jensen's bedroom.

  Adwin, prone on the floor not far from the door, had split lips and a bruise on his forehead. The cherry-framed mirror and silvery fragments were lying beside him, as were his glasses. Budd was ten feet away, his face to the floor.

  “Cupcake!” I dropped beside the injured man.

  He stirred.

  Aunt Mat hastened to the washroom and returned with two wet facecloths, one which she passed to Rey. Quickly she dabbed Adwin's pale cheeks and forehead; Rey did the same to Budd.

  Lewis bent over him. “What happened? Did you and my deputy get into a fight?”

  “No.” Adwin pushed aside the facecloth and struggled into an upright position as Lewis moved over to Budd.

  He leaned close and inspected the young man's face. “Did you trip ovah Mathilda's niece's boyfriend's body?” he asked dryly.

  Budd grimaced and felt his chin. It, like Adwin's forehead, would soon be sporting several colors. “I heard voices from the next hallway. They seemed pissed, uh-angry, so I thought I'd check it out. When I got to the corner, the voices stopped, but I kept walking. Then I heard a noise from this room and looked in. I found him like that, but didn't see no one else.” He got up slowly. “But …”

  “But?”

  “There must have been someone, 'cause I got a whack to the back just after I shouted for you, which sent me sailing.”

  Lewis gazed around. “I can't imagine some phantom did this.”

  I glanced at Aunt Mat. She looked like she was going to say something, then thought better of it.

  “Like Officer Budd, I heard voices. They sounded heated and seemed to come from here. I thought maybe your Cousin Reynalda was irritating someone again, so I decided to step in.” He smiled dryly, grabbed his glasses, and shakily put them on. “When I did step in, there was no one in sight, but a light was on.” He motioned a tortoiseshell urn lamp. “I was about to turn and leave, when someone shoved me hard.” He pressed a hand to the top of his head and winced. “Then, for good measure I got hit as I was going down.”

  “You heard voices?” Lewis asked absently as he surveyed the room again.

  “Yes sir.” He eyed blood on his fingertips and grimaced. “Whoever was in here obviously heard me approaching.” He motioned his heavy leather shoes. “They're not the quietest things.”

  I checked his scalp and forehead. A minor cut and major bruise respectively, Tylenol #3 would be in order, but stitches would not.

  “Do you think it was the cousin here?” Lewis asked, eyeing Rey.

  Adwin gazed from him to Budd and then to Rey. “Not likely. She'd have stuck around to take credit or offer another challenge or two.”

  Rey glowered.

  “She was with us,” Aunt Mat reminded him.

  He kept his eyes on Adwin. “But it was a woman?”

  “I'm inclined to claim at least one woman.” Dejection darkened his face. “There may have been a third voice. Maybe even a fourth. I can't swear to anything, sir.” With a soft groan, he got up slowly, ignoring my extended hand.

  Lewis turned to Budd, his tone shy of exasperated. “What was it? One woman? Two women? Three? Four?”

  “I'm not sure,” he said quietly, appearing apologetic. “I was focused on my Blackberry, getting an update on things at the station and on weather conditions. Things are going nuts there, Sheriff.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I can imagine. Are roads getting cleared yet?”

  “The area's still filled with outages.” He smiled reassuringly. “But there haven't been any major crimes.”

  “I expect not – they're all happening here! Including this here little free-for-all!” Lewis inhaled deeply and turned back to Adwin. “You're certain you didn't see a thing?”

  “Yeah, I saw stars. Lots of them.” His smile was feeble. “As I said, I was hit almost as soon as I stepped inside the door.” He looked at Budd.

  Who shrugged.

  “What about you three?” Lewis asked.

  “I'd hardly bean my boyfriend,” I snapped.

  “Jill, Reynalda and I were together in the library before and when you arrived,” Aunt Mat stated tersely.

  He scowled. “Have your maid get a large pot of coffee going. We're going to need it.” He turned to his deputy. “Budd, round up those othah ladies and herd them into the dining room. I'll be down in a few minutes.” Lewis stepped alongside Adwi
n and inspected the wound. “You'll live. You may want to take some Aspirin, though.” He glanced around. “Does anyone have any idea how she, he, or they could have snuck past without being seen?”

  Aunt Mat shook her head. “There's no hidden passageway in here.”

  “That we know of,” I emphasized.

  She eyed me for several seconds and nodded somberly. “That we know of.”

  Rey spoke up for the first time since leaving the library-study. “Let's see if we can find one.” She started fingering a nearby closest wall like the consummate pro she'd become.

  * * *

  Several minutes later, Rey stood akimbo, looking triumphant if not smug. “Am I good or what?”

  A cherry panel above the four-poster bed revealed shadowy darkness. Aunt Mat went into the bathroom and returned with a Mag-Lite flashlight, which she handed to me.

  I aimed it forward and a bright beam showed five steps leading to a corridor no more than three feet wide. Indistinct footprints were visible in the dust, suggesting it had been used previously, and more than once, but by whom? Whoever had hit Adwin and Budd?

  Lewis peered over Rey's shoulder. “I suppose we should head down.”

  “We?” Aunt Mat asked.

  He glanced rearward. “Right. Budd's gone to get the women. I guess it'll be me.”

  “We'll come with you.” I gestured Rey and myself.

  “I don't need back-up, but thanks.”

  “We'll only follow,” I warned.

  He scanned our set expressions. “Fine, but it could get real dark down there, so you'd bettah get lights.”

  Aunt Mat hastened from the room and was back before anyone could say Harry Houdini twenty-two times. She handed me a nifty Pelican flashlight and hung a floral canvas beach bag from Rey's shoulder. I peered inside to find it held two similar flashlights, extra batteries, a package of long-burning emergency candles, matches, and two lighters.

  I took a deep breath and followed Lewis while Rey took up the rear.

  “Ouch. What a place to put a pipe,” Rey groused.

  I swung my light around and found her rubbing a shoulder. “You may want to keep a closer watch on where you're walking.”

  “Yeah, like I've got nocturnal vision,” she puffed, then exhaled slowly. “This reminds me of the corridor leading to the secret room. Maybe this one'll take us there, too.”

  “They all pretty much look the same: narrow, long, dark, and gloomy.”

  We continued behind Lewis. There wasn't much to see along the descending path but concrete, pipes, and more concrete – and a nearly invisible opening. It only garnered our attention because Lewis had slipped and stumbled into it, and the resulting sound held a metallic ring.

  Rey rubbed a palm against the divider. “This doesn't have a wooden or stone-like feel.”

  “Let's see if it can be opened,” Lewis proposed.

  We struggled with the thin and tapered barrier, and finally managed to open it. Our lights, pointing into the distance, revealed a familiar entrance. Rey had been correct about the tunnel: it was a narrow extension of the other one and led to the secret room.

  “We're kind of at a dead end,” my cousin muttered.

  “We discovered this barely visible door; why can't there be another? Look, we already know what's down here, so let's move upward a few feet, over there,” I instructed and walked over. “Start feeling around, Ms. Magic Fingers. You're bound to discover something else.”

  “Long as I don't 'discover' any creepy-crawlies.”

  Several minutes and grumblings later, another wall slid silently sideward.

  “It's well oiled,” she commented. “If Aunt Mat isn't aware of this secret passage, someone else sure is.”

  Lewis stepped forward and we followed, entering the laundry room via a tiny narrow panel. “Interesting,” he murmured, awed.

  “Not that interesting.” Rey appeared annoyed.

  I glanced back at the wall we'd stepped through. It was well concealed by a small slim shelving unit that had moved with the wall. It supported a sundry of cleaning products. Who'd have guessed? Evidently, not us.

  “We've found yet anothah corridah leading to anothah room, and anothah route of escape.” A preoccupied Lewis moved ahead while Rey pulled me back.

  She waited until he disappeared from view and then grabbed my elbow and led us into the pantry. “Any thoughts?”

  “Prunella and/or Linda could be attempting to creep us out.”

  “You think they staged that heated conversation upstairs? For what purpose?”

  I considered it, then threw up my arms in defeat. “I haven't got a clue… . Maybe they're playing mind games.”

  “With whose minds?” She smiled wryly, inserted the flashlight into the canvas bag, and passed the bag to me.

  I tucked mine inside as well and slung the bag over my shoulder. “Who was the third and/or fourth voice, do you suppose?”

  “There may not have been a third or fourth. That was only a guess by two beaned boys. And who's to say it wasn't one woman pretending to be more? Maybe a loony-tunes one?” My cousin grabbed a can of Coke from a shelf and gulped back half of it.

  With a tiny burp, she moved to a huge heavy unit holding cereals and fiber bars on the topmost shelf, bags of rice and noodles on the second topmost shelf, and countless packages of cookies on two middle shelves. She fingered several, then peered closely. “What? No peanut-butter ones? How can you have fig cookies, coconut cookies … marshy-mallow cookies, pecan and shortbread cookies, but no friggin' peanut-butter ones? Am I the only one who loves peanut-butter cookies?”

  With her head and shoulders jammed inside the middle-most shelf, my determined cousin pulled and pushed. “Holy crap!” Bags and boxes of sandwiched and disc-shaped sweets started flying every which way.

  “Rey! Get a grip! Adwin will bake you a batch of peanut-butter cookies if you're craving them that badly.”

  “There's someone tucked back here!”

  I leaped forward and peered past the mess she'd created. “That's not someone. That's some-thing.”

  “This keeps getting weirder.” She eyed the skeleton that had previously graced the hobby/art room.

  “That, Reynalda Fonne-Werde, is an understatement.”

  We turned to each other. I shrugged, she gestured, and at the top of our lungs, we released simultaneous bloodcurdling shrieks.

  25

  Murder They Wrote

  With the prowess of a froghopper bug and the steeliness of a vulture, Lewis soared into the pantry. Hot on his heels were Aunt Mat and Beatrice with opossum-wide eyes and marmot-curious expressions. Hubert limped in ten seconds later, May-Lee and Linda tramped in ten seconds after him, and Prunella strolled in five seconds after them.

  Looking both worried and wary, Budd shoved through the small crowd. “Sir?”

  Lewis looked from him to my cousin and me. “Those screams surely traveled down the driveway and then some. What's the mattah now? Are you ladies wanting to get on the evening news?”

  Rey gave a nudge. “You gonna tell him, or am I?”

  I nudged back. “You found it, you should –”

  “Ladies!”

  Rey slid rearward and flourished her arms like a game-show host displaying a grand prize. “Another body.”

  “It's not possible,” Aunt Mat murmured in disbelief, bringing a hand to a drawn mouth.

  Beatrice anxiously stroked liver-colored lips while Hubert, bewildered, squinted at the molested cookie packages.

  As Lewis stepped forward, a soft curse drifted backward. “Who put this here? Maybe more importantly, whose bones are these?”

  Aunt Mat's smile and tone were almost contrite. “That's Wolfgang, a welcome-to-the-estate helper.”

  “We met him in one of the rooms upstairs.” I draped an arm around her shoulders. “He's a very vocal fellow – for no vocal chords.”

  Rey grabbed a dented package of mocha wafers, eyed the box briefly, and then ripped into it. “Yo
u didn't move Wolfie here … did you?”

  “To what end?” the grande dame sniffed.

  Rey bit a wafer in half.

  “Praise be to God it wasn't a real body this time.” Lewis peered closer. “Hold on. What's this?” Removing a pen from a breast pocket, he fumbled to retrieve a small notepad tucked between the skeleton's clavicle and scapula, and finally held it gingerly by poking the pen through the spiral coil. “This is Jeana's. But I had it with me.” He felt side and back pockets and frowned. “I must have left it somewhere.”

  Budd eyed it anxiously. “It sure looks like hers.”

  “It is,” I confirmed. “You showed it to me in the kitchen, Sheriff.”

  He frowned again, carefully pocketed the notepad, and turned to Budd. “When'd you last see Jeana?”

  “… I guess … fifteen-twenty minutes before I entered the upstairs bedroom and found Mr. Timmins on the floor.” His brow puckered. “She told me she had to check something. When I asked what, she said maybe it was something, maybe nothing, but until she was sure she'd rather not give details. She slapped my shoulder, smiled, and headed to the back, and I moved on.”

  Lewis' sparkling eyes dimmed as he stared at Wolfgang. “This doesn't bode well.”

  “Maybe it's a message,” Rey stated dramatically.

  “Maybe,” he agreed stiffly. “Budd, see if you can find her. Hopefully she's simply gone investigating and is in one of the tunnels, lost or wrapped up in something interesting. She can't be that hard to locate and she hasn't been missing that long … but if she can't be found within a reasonable amount of time, you best call the station and see if one or two of the boys can get ovah here.” He exhaled softly and scanned the ceiling. “I sure hope it doesn't come to that.”

  “What's going on?” Adwin asked, his cheeks ruddy and moist, a fleece jacket slung over his right shoulder and a wool hat scrunched in his left hand.

  “Where have you been?” Lewis demanded.

  “I took something to calm the ache in my head and felt a little spacey, so I went outside to clear the fog.”