Authors: Parnell Hall
The science teacher was offended. “A what?”
“A computer nerd. I need a computer nerd.”
“We don’t call them computer nerds.”
“What do you call them?”
“We call them technical assistants.”
“Okay, I need a technical assistant.”
“Why?”
“My computer crashed.”
“How did it crash?”
“How? Well, it’s not like I dropped it on the floor.”
“What does it look like?”
“Well, the screen turned blue.”
“Ah! The blue screen of death!”
“You know what it is?”
“Yes.”
“Can you fix it?”
“That’s not so easy.”
“That’s why I need a computer nerd.”
“A technical assistant.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll send one over.”
The science teacher sent over a technician, who differed from a computer nerd in his title. He had dark-rimmed glasses, a big nose, and pencils and pens in a pocket protector.
Cora wondered if she should really be blamed for perpetuating the stereotype.
Whatever you called him, the guy was good. Within twenty minutes, he had rebooted the computer and discovered the source of the problem, which Cora still didn’t understand in spite of his explaining it to her in computerese so condescending he was lucky she didn’t rap him upside the head.
“It’s very simple,” he said in a nasal whine that set her teeth on edge. “If you don’t power down correctly, and you leave your virus protection off . . .” He shook a gloomy head. “How many windows did you have open when you crashed?”
“Windows?”
“Programs. Crossword Compiler, for instance. Did you have Crossword Compiler open?”
“No,” Cora said with absolute assurance. Nothing could have induced her to open a crossword-puzzle-constructing program.
“How about eBay, Amazon.com,
Days of Our Lives
official Web site, iTunes, International Movie Database, Fandango, and Date Match?”
“Well, if you’re going to count every little thing.”
“You can’t leave all your programs open. It’s like leaving your doors open. What happens when you leave your doors open?”
“My computer gets stolen?” Cora said hopefully.
“No, you get the blue screen of death.”
“And that’s not good?”
He gave her a baleful look. “It’s not funny. You think it’s just you, but it’s not. You’re on the Web. When you e-mail a friend, you’re not just touching their computer, you’re touching every computer they’ve ever touched.”
“I’ll wear a condom,” Cora said. The young man looked shocked. “I get it. I’ve been a bad girl. Can I use the computer now?”
“Of course you can. But it’s going to crash again if you’re not careful. I can’t keep running over here.”
“You’ve only run over here once. I don’t think that’s enough to claim a pattern.”
“Remember what I told you?”
“You told me a lot of things.”
“When your computer freezes. Remember what to do then?”
“I’m guessing it has nothing to do with hot chocolate.”
“Remember what three keys you hit?”
“Control, Alt, Delete.”
“You
were
paying attention.”
“Well, it reminded me of my fifth husband.”
“What?”
“The acronym. CAD.”
“Oh.”
“So that will unfreeze my computer?”
“No. It will let you turn it off.”
“What do you mean,
let
me turn it off? I can
always
turn it off.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Sure I can. I can pull the plug.”
“Yeah. If you want to risk damaging your computer and losing data.”
“That’s the only downside?”
“And you get the blue screen of death.”
“I hate it when that happens.”
“Turn it off the way I taught you, and you should be able to reboot.”
“And I do that by . . . ?”
“Turning it on again.”
“Let me be sure I got this straight. The entire wit and wisdom of your approach to computer dynamics is turn it off and turn it back on?”
“If you want to think of it that way.”
“You want me to try it to show I can do it?”
“That won’t be necessary. It’s working now. But if it gets frozen again, you know what to do.” He got up from the desk chair. “Say, where’d you get the computer puzzle?”
“What computer puzzle?”
Cora had taken the crossword puzzle Harvey had given her out of her purse. It was lying on the desk.
“That’s not a computer puzzle. It’s done in pen and ink.”
“Yeah, but it’s all about computers.”
“What do you mean, it’s all about computers?”
“Well, take a look.” He pointed. “Right across the bottom you’ve got
screen, net, disk, mouse
. They’re all computer terms. Whoever constructed this puzzle went to a lot of trouble to call attention to computers.”
Cora frowned.
“Is that right?”
Dr. Barney Nathan looked dapper as ever in a bright red bow tie. His manner, however, was somewhat less than cordial. “I don’t know why you expect me to help you.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re a doctor.”
“You said I was a bad doctor.”
“No, I didn’t.” Cora shrugged. “I may have said you botched a few autopsies.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No, it isn’t. Bad doctors kill people. I assume the ones you autopsy are already dead.”
“That’s not funny. You said those things in public.”
“I did?”
“You know you did. You said it to Chief Harper. You said it in the town meeting. You said it on TV.”
“Yes, but it isn’t true.”
“That’s slander.”
“So what? Truth is defense for slander.”
“What?”
“You didn’t do it, so you can’t be slandered.”
“That’s
not
what it means,” Barney cried indignantly. “Just the opposite. If something is true, it isn’t slander.”
“Well, isn’t it true you didn’t botch the autopsy? You didn’t botch it, did you, Barney?”
“You
know
I didn’t botch the autopsy.”
“Then what are we arguing about?”
Barney Nathan sputtered to a standstill, his mind short-circuited by Cora’s breezy doublespeak.
“And here’s your chance to prove it,” Cora said. “With your autopsy on Mr. Overmeyer.”
“I didn’t perform an autopsy on Mr. Overmeyer.”
“Why not?”
“He died of natural causes.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s on the death certificate.”
“Who signed the death certificate?”
“I did.”
Cora nodded. “I see. Then you examined the body?”
“I examined it for signs of life. There were none. I pronounced him dead.”
“From what cause?”
“Old age.”
“That’s a disease?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what did he die of?”
“Organ failure.”
“Which one?”
“All of them.”
“What does it say on the death certificate?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Could you look?”
“There’s no reason to.”
“You’d do it for Chief Harper.”
“You’re not him.”
“No, but if I ask him, he’ll ask you. Why don’t we cut out the middleman?”
Grumbling to himself, Barney Nathan rifled through his files, pulled out a chart. “He died of renal failure. As a result of cancer.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“No sign of foul play?”
“Of course not.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s an old man. He had no money.”
“Those are medical reasons?”
“Those are commonsense reasons. Come on, Cora. I’d be more sympathetic if you hadn’t ripped me in public.”
“Where is the gentleman?”
“At the hospital morgue.”
“Really? I thought it was a natural death. Why isn’t he at the funeral home?”
“Kelly likes to be paid. Funny that way.”
“You’re telling me Mr. Overmeyer has no relatives and no cash?”
“That’s how I understand it.”
“That’s really the reason, isn’t it? The guy’s being passed over because he has no relatives and no cash.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then you’ll look at the body?”
“No.”
“You’ll let me look at the body?”
“No.”
“That’s rather petty, Barney.”
“I don’t care. The fact is, there’s no reason under the sun for me to look at the body.”
“Suppose I gave you one.”
“What?”
“He left a crossword puzzle.”
“Indicating he’d been killed?”
“No.”
“Indicating foul play?”
“No.”
“Indicating he had money hidden somewhere we didn’t know about?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
“Indicating what?”
“I have no idea.”
“Of course not. But since puzzles are your specialty, you’d like to assume it has some importance, and pass that on to me. So, unless you’d like to show me that puzzle and point out the reasons it shows an autopsy is indicated . . .”
“Come on, Barney. Do me a favor.”
“Why in the world should I do you a favor?”
“Well, for one thing, I’m here talking to you instead of talking to Rick Reed.”
The doctor’s eyes widened at the mention of the Channel Eight news reporter. “Are you threatening me? If I don’t give you what you want, you’ll take it on TV?”
“Certainly not, Barney.” Cora smiled. “But thanks for the suggestion.”
Cora Felton was on the computer playing FreeCell, instant-messaging with a man she’d met in a chat room, and bidding on a mink stole on eBay when Buddy raced into the office, barking furiously. Cora couldn’t hear the toy poodle because she was listening to music on iTunes, but she caught sight of him, sprang from her chair, and nearly strangled herself with her headset. She ripped it off and leapt to close the computer screen. She wasn’t sure which embarrassed her more, the man or the mink. It would be just her luck to buy it and have some animal rights activist splash her with red paint.
But it wasn’t an unannounced visitor. Just an insistently ringing phone. Cora scooped it up.
It was Chief Harper. “So you
are
there. How come you don’t answer? I’ve been ringing and ringing.”
“I didn’t hear it. I was listening to music.”
“So loud you couldn’t hear the phone?”
“Pink Floyd, Chief. You gotta play it loud. So, what’s up?”
“You went to Barney Nathan. Browbeat him into doing an autopsy.”
“Oh.”
“Which wouldn’t be so bad if you hadn’t implied I sanctioned your actions.”
“I don’t think I did that.”
“Did you tell Barney if he didn’t do it, you’d ask me to ask him?”
“Oh, that.”
“Did you threaten him with TV exposure?”
“So, Barney ratted me out. I didn’t think he would.”
“He didn’t rat you out.”
“No?”
“I asked probing questions. He had no recourse but to reply.”
“ ‘No recourse’ sounds very official, police-mattery, Chief. You really mean to say that?”
“There’s a lot of ways to get Barney to do an autopsy. Threatening him with the media and pretending I asked for it shouldn’t make the short list.”
“I’m a bad girl. You can tell Barney you bawled me out.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Barney found a whacking dose of arsenic inside the corpse.”
“Oops.”
“That is a
wonderful
assessment of the situation.”
“Well, what do you want me to say? We were looking for foul play. We found foul play. What’s wrong with that?”
“
You
were looking for foul play.
I
wasn’t.”
“So what, Chief? You think I’m going to go running around saying you overlooked it?”
“No. Can you speak for Barney Nathan?”
“Sure. He’s not going to go running around telling people
he
overlooked it. What’s he doing with the news?”
“I told him to sit on it.”
“Good move. You can release a statement how he autopsied the body on your suggestion.”
“And why did I ask for the autopsy?”
“The crossword puzzle made you suspicious.”
“Which leads me right back to you.”
“No,” Cora said triumphantly. “Which leads you right back to Harvey Beerbaum.”
There was silence on the line while Harper mulled that over.
“So, the guy was murdered,” Cora said. “Why would anybody do that?”
“Why indeed. There was no money involved.”
“And no relatives?”
“Not so far. I’m trying to track down a great-nephew. He seems to have outlived everyone else.”
“How about friends?”
“So far no one has stepped up.”
“I’d sure like to see the crime scene.”
“What crime scene?”
“His house.”
“That’s not a crime scene.”
“It is now.”
The late Mr. Overmeyer lived in a rickety cabin just far enough outside of town to have escaped stricter zoning laws, which might have required such things as a patched roof, a coat of paint, or at least two hinges on the screen door, as Cora discovered when it nearly took off her arm.
“On second thought, Chief, you go first.”
Chief Harper, strolling laconically up the walk, produced a set of keys from his pocket. “That was always my intention.”
He unlocked the front door, pushed it open.
The smell that assaulted them was truly overpowering.
“The corpse is gone?” Cora said.
“I’m quite sure.”
“Could there be another one?”
“I’d prefer there wasn’t.”
“Killjoy.”
Chief Harper switched on the light.
The place was filthy. The floor was littered with dust, old newspapers, pinecones, tin cans, beer bottles, a Domino’s Pizza box, and a pair of boots. A half-eaten apple lay in the corner. Ants crawled over it.
“I think I saw this house on
Curb Appeal,
” Cora said.
“Aw, it’s nothing a carpenter, a plumber, and an exterminator couldn’t fix.”
“And perhaps a demolitions expert.”
“What are we looking for here?”
Cora shrugged. “Don’t ask me. You’re the big-time police chief. I’m just along for the ride.”
“As if.”
“Okay, where was the body?”
“Why would I see the body? An old man dies of natural causes. Happens all the time. You think I see them all?”
“You’re saying you
didn’t
see the body?”
Harper sighed. “You should have been a lawyer. Yeah, I saw the body. Not because Barney suspected foul play. Because of the damn crossword.”
“What did you think the puzzle meant?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“Then why did you ask me to solve it?”
“That’s what you do with crossword puzzles. You solve them.”
“Uh-huh. So where was the corpse?”
“Right there on the couch.”
“Sitting up?”
“Sort of keeled over.”
“So. He was sitting on the couch, decided he didn’t want to go on living, and just flopped down.”
“The arsenic might have had a hand in that decision.”
“Granted. I notice there is no glass or other beaker on the coffee table that might have contained poison.”
“No, there isn’t.”
“Was there when you saw the body?”
Harper said nothing. Cora looked at him. He appeared red in the face.
“Oh.”
“There was no reason to suspect foul play.” “Of course not.”
“But
you
did. Which is somewhat embarrassing to a man in my position. So, if you have some wacky idea about all this, I would be grateful if you’d share the information.”
“I don’t know anything you don’t know.”
“You just interpreted it better.”
“Did I say that?”
“No. You just deduced it was a murder, and demanded an autopsy.”
“That was largely wishful thinking, Chief.”
“Come on, Cora. What tipped you off?”
“Need you ask?”
Chief Harper’s eyes widened. “Are you saying it was the crossword puzzle?”
“I’m not saying that. I’m specifically
not
saying it was the crossword puzzle.”
“But it was.”
“Why do you say that, Chief? I’d love to hear your theory.”
“Harvey solved the crossword puzzle. It was meaningless drivel. ‘At noon I can not be done. So I should try to at one.’ That’s less than helpful.” He cocked his head. “Unless you know better.”
“Absolutely not, Chief. I find it just as unhelpful as you do.”
“So, what’s with the puzzle? Come on. Give.”
Cora pulled the puzzle out of her purse, showed the references to Chief Harper.
“A computer?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a puzzle about a computer?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. But there’s enough references to make it possible.”
“And Harvey missed it.”
“Don’t blame Harvey, Chief. He solved the puzzle.”
“Are you saying he missed it because he solved the puzzle?”
“I’m just saying since he was bent on solving the puzzle, it’s not surprising his attention was elsewhere.”
“Are you saying you noticed because you
didn’t
solve the puzzle?”
“I’m not saying that either.”
“You’re just saying it was easier.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth, Chief.”
“I bet if you solved the puzzle, you’d have noticed. I know you. There’s no way that you could solve that puzzle and not notice.”
“I suppose that’s partly true,” Cora said. She didn’t point out the part that was true was that there was no way she could solve the puzzle. She felt a little guilty about taking credit for the computer nerd’s findings, but as long as Sherry was out of the country, she needed to take credit for something.
Chief Harper exhaled, glanced around the filthy kitchen. “So. We’re looking for a computer.”
“You’re not happy with that theory, Chief.”
“Do you think this guy had a computer?”
“More likely an abacus.”
Chief Harper pulled open a wooden door.
“What’s that?” Cora said. “The pantry?”
“The cellar.”
“This place has a cellar?”
“More like a crawl space. Wanna come down?”
“Is there a light?”
“I got a flashlight.”
“Good for you. What’s down there?”
“Rats. Spiders.”
“You don’t really see that. You’re just trying to keep me out.”
Cora peered over Chief Harper’s shoulder. His flashlight lit up three wooden steps down to a dirt floor. The rats were an invention. But from the cobwebs, she had a feeling the spiders were real.
“I bow to your expertise, Chief. You check out the cellar.”
Harper disappeared down the stairs. “Aha!”
“What’s that?”
“Well, we got half a ten-speed bicycle.”
“You mean a five-speed bicycle?”
“Ha ha. The water pipes and electrical cables have been here since the dawn of time. The heating duct looks newer, probably installed in response to some building code violation. . . . Yup. It’s dated 2003 with a serial number. I get the impression the only time Overmeyer repaired the cabin was under threat of being shut down.”
“You see anything looks like a computer?”
“Very funny.”
“It’s not funny. It’s the thing we’re looking for. How about high-speed Internet cable? Any cable running under there?”
“There’s a phone line.”
“Does it look like it was installed before there was Internet?”
“It looks like it was installed before there were phones.”
Chief Harper came out of the stairwell. His face was covered with cobwebs and dirt.
“You got a dinner engagement tonight, Chief?”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
Harper went into the kitchen and washed his face. There was no towel. He dried it on his sleeve.
A wooden stairway led to the second floor. The cabin, though small, had dormers, creating an upstairs bedroom. There was a brass bed, minus the headboard. On the wall behind it hung a framed picture of poker-playing dogs.
A wooden dresser with crooked drawers did not hold a computer. Cora sorted through tattered boxer shorts, wool socks with holes in the heels, plaid flannel shirts, white undershirts, faded khaki pants.
“Anything in the closet?” she asked.
“Couple of sweaters. A sweatshirt. Tweed sports jacket looks like it’s never been worn.”
“Anything in the pockets?”
“No. Or in the lining, if that’s your next question. I patted it down.”
Cora came over. “What else we got?”
“Some shoes. Some men’s magazines. A box of junk.”
“What do you mean, junk?”
Harper pulled back the top of the cardboard box. There was no computer. Not even a pocket calculator. A couple of books without covers. A busted lamp. An ashtray. Some coat hangers. Some light bulbs. Some scattered playing cards, not nearly a full deck. A Monopoly game, box ripped, properties falling out. “See? Junk.”
“In other words, there’s no reason in the world for keeping that box,” Cora said.
“That’s right.”
“Move it.”
“Huh?”
“Pull it out of the closet so I can see.”
Chief Harper wrestled the box out into the room. To his annoyance, Cora ignored it completely. She went into the closet, examined the floor.
“Here, Chief. Those floorboards look loose to you?”
The floorboards
were
loose. Chief Harper pried them up.
There was a space below the floor.
He reached in, pulled out a gun.