52 Steps to Murder (22 page)

“That reminds me. It’s good to see that you and Lou are finally doing something to earn your pay.”

Frank and I continued our repartee while Lou sat and enjoyed it. A couple of minutes later, George pulled up behind Frank, followed by a couple of squad cars and a couple of the men from the police lab. When they got out of their cars, I noticed that one of the uniformed officers was Officer Davis.

Lou and I tried not to advertise our injuries as we pushed our way out of the car. From the smirk on George’s face, I could tell that he had a few put-downs lined up, but he wouldn’t put me down in front of the younger men.

“Hello, Cy. So nice of you to get all of us together on this wonderful morning,” George said as he got out of his car.

“It’s so good to see your beautiful face this morning, George.”

“Sorry I can’t say the same about your face, Cy,” George whispered as he caught up with me. “So, Cy, after you,” he said as he motioned for me to go first.

I wanted to bring up the rear, but George had forced my hand. I walked gingerly over to the railing, hoping to use it to hoist myself to the top. I made idle conversation to take George’s thoughts off the slowness of our journey.

“What’d you do last night, George?”

“Just turned on the TV and watched a little Texas Hold  ’em.”

“I’ve never been much on wrestling. It’s all fake,” I replied.

George gave me a look. I assume the fact I don’t like wrestling offended him. He remained quiet until we got to the porch.

“Nothing like a leisurely stroll to the top of a mountain, I always say,” George said, as I finally managed to navigate the last step and arrived at the porch.

“I always take it slow when I notice I have some old people on the tour,” I replied.     

I grimaced as I made my way to the front door. I eased my hand into my pocket, pulled out the key, and inserted it into the lock. I turned and pushed, but to no avail. It seemed like someone had spent more time at the Nelson house than I did. Did our friend in the raincoat linger around the house or return after Lou and I left with our injuries?

“I’ll let you have the honors, George,” I said, as I motioned for him to lead the way.

“The door seems to be stuck,” he said after he gave it a try.

“It’s not stuck, George. It seems our friend is playing games again. Officer Davis, you’ve done this before. Why don’t you go to your car and get something to force the plywood away from the window. And if you have any duct tape, please bring it, too.”

Officer Davis jogged down the steps to his cruiser. His return trip took much longer, although he did his best to make a good impression. He handed me the tape and used a crow bar to work on the window. He pried the plywood far enough away from the window so that he could reach in, unlock the window, and climb into the house. Then, he hurried over to the door and slid open the second bolt and the rest of us strolled inside. Just after we entered the house, two more officers pulled up. We were accumulating quite a crew. It was getting to be a habit.

I removed my pocketknife from my pocket and cut a piece of duct tape. I took a chance that my actions would not lead to curiosity seekers. Besides, the scene of the crime had already been trampled on more than once. I secured the bolt that kept us from entering the house each day. After a few minutes, I’d used enough tape to severely hinder our opponent’s shenanigans. We wouldn’t have any trouble entering the house next time.

“Frank, it’s your party. We’ll just take a seat until you can see what you can find out,” I said as I eased my body into a chair.

“Well, I’m not used to going out without knowing there’s a body, but the way this case is going, chances are we’ll find another body today.”

I soon found out that reaching into my coat pocket from a seated position was much more difficult than it had been a few days before; however, I found that the reward of milk chocolate and almonds was just as satisfying as always.

An hour or so later, the lab crew, assisted by the medical examiner, reported their findings to me.

“There’s definitely been some traffic, but nothing significant to lead us anywhere.”

“Well, then, gentlemen. I’ll lead us somewhere. Let us head to the dungeon.”

I lifted myself from the chair, ambled to the pantry as the others followed. I twisted the lid on the jar of olives. It was not all I twisted. I winced, but hoped no one else noticed.

“Officer Davis, if you would help us out, there’s a couple of buttons at the back of that bottom step. Would you be so kind as to bend over and push both of them for us.”

Officer Davis bent over, and, after a few seconds of searching, located the buttons. He pushed both of them and the wall slid away.

I stood at the top of the stairs and looked down at the door below. I winced again as I thought back to a short time before. Police work was getting dangerous.

I led the way, slowly making my way down the steps. When I arrived at the bottom, I turned to face the others.

“Men, we don’t know what’s on the other side of this door. Let’s all turn off our flashlights and remain silent until we find out.”

The men followed orders and grew quiet. I left my flashlight on until I found the sliding bolt that held the door locked. Then, I extinguished my flashlight and slowly opened the door. Everyone stood in silence as we heard the sound below. Someone was digging.

31

I opened the door the rest of the way, eased down the steps. I clutched my flashlight in one hand while I wrapped my other hand around the handrail, something nonexistent anywhere inside the house. The only light shined in the distance. We couldn’t see the source of the light. It came from slightly around the bend. Otherwise, there was only darkness. Each of us descended the steps slowly, carefully. Even the slightest squeak of a step might alert whoever was digging. After everyone had made it to the dirt floor, I motioned for the men to spread out. On my orders, each man slowly made his way toward the digging sound. As we drew closer, the dim light revealed a lone figured bending over a shovel.

“Hold it right there,” I shouted, as I turned my light on and spotlighted the digger. The other policemen followed suit and illuminated the underground area.

Not suspecting she had company, and unnerved by the sudden light and command, the digger dropped her shovel.

“Just leave it right there,” I hollered, as she started to bend over to pick up her shovel. “And just what are you doing down here, Mrs. Reynolds?”

“Raisin’ a garden, if it’s any of your business,” the older woman replied. “From the number of flashlights, I assume you’ve brought more riffraff with you this time.”

I ignored her comment, picked up where I’d left off.

“Oh, I love gardens. Let’s see what you’ve planted.”

“Didn’t plant nothin’. My guess is you planted it, Lieutenant, and waited in the dark until I found it,” Mrs. Reynolds answered.

She recognized the voice of her caller, even though the blinding light kept her from seeing me, even when she raised her arm to shield her eyes.

“You just happened to come down here and find it. Is that right, Mrs. Reynolds?” I replied, as we continued to walk toward her. “Oh, lucky us. It looks like we got here just in time for the harvest. Officer Davis, why don’t you do the honors? Let’s see how Mrs. Reynolds’s garden has done this year.”

Officer Davis moved over to the shovel, picked it up, and started to dig. The older woman stumbled backwards. When she regained her position, she answered my accusation.

“I told you, Lieutenant. I didn’t plant nothin’.”

“Sure you didn’t. Then it looks like
all
of us will be surprised. Doesn’t it, Mrs. Reynolds?”

Mrs. Reynolds jumped each time the shovel hit the ground and eased a little closer to the wooden steps that led to her house. In a few minutes, Officer Davis had uncovered the buried treasure.

“Well, Mrs. Reynolds. Look what we have here. A yellow raincoat, galoshes, and a ski mask. Why don’t you try them on to see if they fit?” Mrs. Reynolds turned and ran up the steps. None of us were close enough to stop her. She managed to lock the door before the nearest officer could detain her. I kicked the dust. I didn’t expect Mrs. Reynolds to be so spry. We decided to deal with her later. For the time being, we wanted to study what we’d found and see what else we could turn up.

“Well, it looks like we’ve found the mysterious yellow raincoat. Let’s bag it and spread out and see what else we can find. We’ll begin on this side of the underground area. Let’s start at the head of the street past Mrs. Jarvis’s house and work our way back down to where we are now. Then, we’ll go over and check out the other side.”

Each man had been told to bring a Maglite so he could do a thorough search of the underground area. As we spread out and started up the cave-like stretch in front of us, George eased over to me with a smile already in place. I braced myself.

“So, Cy, was that your attacker? Was she the one who overpowered you and Lou last night? Tell me again how she gave you the black eye. She must have used the shovel. Or could it have been Miss Peacock in the conservatory with the lead pipe?”

Before I could choose whether to respond or ignore my friend, one of the men hollered that he had found something else. Frank was nearby. He donned some surgical gloves, bent over and picked up the envelope the officer had found.

As I caught up with him, the medical examiner filled me in.

“Looks like we’ve found a letter, Cy. It’s addressed to Irene Penrod. She’s the lady who’s gone away, isn’t she?”

“That’s right, Frank. Who’s it from?”

“There’s no return address, and the postmark is smudged.

“Has it been opened?”

“Yes. You want me to take it out and read it?”

“Might as well. Read it, then bag it, although I doubt if we find any prints on it. But maybe it can tell us something.”

“Dear Irene,” Frank read. “I’m so happy you’ll be coming to spend a few days with us. Herbert and I are looking forward to your visit. I wanted to let you know that Donald might be able to bring you. He’s on his way home, and he might come through Hilldale Saturday morning. If he gets there before your bus leaves, he can bring you, and you’ll get here quicker. Just go to the bus station as planned, and wait until the last minute to buy your ticket. If Donald makes it through there Saturday, he can meet you there and bring you to us. Love, Martha.”

“What do you think, Lou?” I asked.

“It could be anything. Maybe it’s genuine. Maybe it’s phony.”

There were a few murmurs as Lou paused.

“Maybe Hartley murdered the old ladies and dropped this letter as he sneaked from one house to the other without being detected. Or possibly the letter was delivered and someone entered Miss Penrod’s house and took the letter in order to draw suspicion to her or Hartley. And then there’s even a chance that Miss Penrod wrote this herself to give herself time to get away after the murders, knowing that we’ll be told that she has gone away for a few days. She could be out of the country by now.”

There were too many possibilities to suit me. I realized that the further we delved into the case, the more we were coming up with more questions than answers. Did Mrs. Reynolds get caught with her hand in the cookie jar, or was the disguise buried there by someone else, as Mrs. Reynolds claimed? Was Irene Penrod’s letter a clue that would be vital in solving the murders, or did someone plant it to muddy the waters?

I had no idea. I knew only that my pains were increasing more than my results. I felt there were more clues to be found, so I instructed each man to return to work. No one found anything else until we got to the dead-end portion of the underground.

“Hey, Lieutenant! We’ve found another shovel here!”

Everyone hurried to the officer who located the shovel. The sum of each man’s light flooded the tunnel. Not only did we find a shovel, but someone had been digging. Careful examination revealed something hidden under a tarpaulin. One officer worked feverishly to untie the knots and toss away the rope. Whoever had been digging had some help of a sort. Under the tarp we found a device used to locate buried treasure. I looked up at the house beside us. It was the second house on the street. I remembered Mrs. Wilkens told me someone had rented  this  house. Was this device the reason someone rented it? Or did someone put this apparatus here because he or she knew the house was empty? And was this the house Mrs. Wilkens said she saw Hartley come out of last night? I rounded up the print crew, told them to see if they found anything. Then, we planned to recover the device and retie the rope. I was not yet ready to alert the digger that we were on to him or her, but I did want to look inside the house and see if I found anything when time permitted. First, I needed to follow proper procedure and get a search warrant.

“Okay, men, we’re halfway done, so to speak. Let’s backtrack and do a thorough search of the underground on the other side of the street.”

Each of us paused as we returned to the steps leading from the Reynolds house. I sent a man up to check the door, but it was still locked. Mrs. Reynolds didn’t want to be followed. A second search revealed nothing more, so we continued around the curve to the steps behind the houses on the other side of the street.

32

I labored as I walked. It had been some time since a case had been this tough on me physically. I looked around and noticed that Frank hovered over me like a vulture waiting for an opportunity, or at least a medical examiner who knew where his next victim was coming from.

“It’s okay, Frank. I’ve got a few more good days in me,” I said, as he walked abreast of me. I think I was trying to convince myself as much as I was my friend. I looked at Frank, who was of medium build and height, wore rimless glasses, and had sandy brown hair. He looked like he had more days left than I did.

“Cy, as far as your body is concerned, I think your best days are well behind you. It’s that gristle between your ears that keeps you going.”