Authors: Parnell Hall
Cora flushed, embarrassed at having automatically defended Crowley. “He doesn’t suspect me of doing that any more than you do, Chief. He’s just a New York cop, and that’s how they talk.”
Crowley put up his hands. “Please, don’t let me give offense. Then she’ll clam up and call in that lady lawyer and we won’t get anywhere. So, you got two break-ins and a homicide. What makes you think it’s my killer?”
“The crossword puzzle.”
“Of course,” Crowley said. He sighed. “You got any coffee?”
“I didn’t know I was entertaining,” Cora said. She curtsied. “You probably couldn’t tell from my ball gown.”
“I’ll make some,” Sherry said. “You got that baby monitor turned on?”
Aaron pulled it out of his pocket. They could hear the crackle from the microphone. Satisfied, Sherry went into the kitchen.
Crowley turned to Chief Harper. “The way I understand it, you got her here because you don’t have the manpower to guard her and she’s got a gun.” Before the chief could retort, Crowley said, “Where the hell’d she get a gun, anyway? You give it to her?”
“It’s my gun,” Cora said impatiently. “You think I got only one gun? Then every time I got arrested for murder, I’d be unarmed.”
Crowley’s eyes never left the chief. “You knew she had a gun?”
Harper stuck out his chest. “She has every right to have a gun, Sergeant. Just because you arrested her doesn’t mean she’s guilty.”
“Just because a pyromaniac hasn’t been convicted of arson doesn’t mean you give him matches.”
“Boys, boys,” Cora said. “A little less macho posturing would be nice. How about we concentrate on catching this killer?”
“Unless you think you already have her,” Harper said.
Crowley wasn’t backing down on any point. “I’m not ruling it out.”
“Of course not. You wanna tell me why? Can you come up with any reason whatsoever? She has no conceivable motive. She’d have to be insane.”
“And that’s a deal breaker?”
“Hey!” Cora said. “I’m right here.”
“The point is,” Crowley said, “suspect or not, she’s in danger. You believe it. I believe it.” He turned to Cora. “You got a spare bedroom?”
Cora did her best to keep her voice neutral. She gestured to Sherry, who had just come in from the kitchen with a tray of coffee. “There’s Sherry and Aaron’s room. They moved upstairs.”
“Fine. I don’t feel like driving back to the city anyway. Let’s sit down, have some coffee, see if we can make some sense out of this mess.”
Chapter
36
“Crowley slept over.”
Becky looked up from her desk. “Huh?”
Cora flopped down in the client’s chair and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. “He and Chief Harper had a fight over me. It was very flattering.”
Cora lit a cigarette. Becky was too astonished to protest.
“The killer was in your house?”
“The killer was in my house. No big deal. I wasn’t there. The killer knew I wouldn’t be there. He just wanted to leave a crossword puzzle on my computer.”
“Not knowing you couldn’t solve it.”
“I have no idea what this killer knows and doesn’t know.”
“You coming back to Dennis?”
Cora waved her hand impatiently. “No. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t know who it is. I know who it
isn’t.
”
“So, Crowley stayed over. Does Sherry know?”
“She made him coffee.”
“In the morning?”
“No. Last night. When the boys were fighting over me.”
Becky rubbed her forehead. “Please. I had one too many drinks at the Country Kitchen. You wanna fill me in?”
Cora described the events at her house.
“So. Sergeant Crowley stayed in Sherry and Aaron’s room?”
“Well, I had him mess up the sheets so it looks like he did.”
“Cora.”
“Relax. We’re both grown-ups and we both have guns. We’re perfectly safe.”
“And we’re no closer to solving this crime.”
“In a way we are.”
“What way would that be?”
“Killer’s getting bolder. Breaks into the police station as soon as Dan Finley leaves. Breaks into my house as soon as I leave. With Sherry and Aaron there. And with Buddy there. All he had to do was bark and alert them. And he didn’t.”
“Isn’t there a story like that? The dog that didn’t bark?”
“Yup. Sherlock Holmes. I’m not sure if Buddy’s read it.”
“Seriously.”
“In Buddy’s case, he’ll shut up if you throw a puppy biscuit on the floor. That’s all the killer had to do. He just had to know to do it.”
Becky considered that. “You think it’s someone local?”
“Why not?”
“Because of the New York angle.”
“Well, it’s someone local to somewhere. It could be here, it could be New York. It could be both.”
“How could it be both?”
“A lot of people have country houses. Or move. I did. I’m local to here and New York. New York is my old stomping ground. I still consider myself a New Yorker.”
“Yeah, but he must not live in Bakerhaven.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He broke into town hall. A local wouldn’t have to do that. He could walk right in.”
“Not if he wanted something they wouldn’t give out.”
“Like what?”
“I have no idea. If I did, we’d know what it was.”
“There must be some way to find out.”
“How? The only person who’d know is dead.”
“And that’s undoubtedly why she is. So, what did the town clerk know that the killer didn’t? And why would finding it out seal her doom?”
“‘Seal her doom’? Boy, that’s melodramatic.”
“You prefer ‘cause her to be killed’?”
“I don’t prefer anything.”
Becky got up and went into the little bathroom half-hidden behind her file cabinet. She emerged a minute later with a bottle of Advil and a glass of water. She shook three pills out into her hand.
“Isn’t that more than you need?”
“Right. Like I’m going to OD on ibuprofen.”
“It’s a bad habit to get into.”
“Oh, yeah? You remember when you used to drink?”
“Not very much.”
“Then let me take my pills.” Becky popped the pills in her mouth and washed them down with a sip of water. “There. The effects should be instantaneous. They’re not, but they should be.”
“I’m glad you’re getting your sense of humor back.”
“I’m not getting anything back. I’m trying to forestall your comments by making my own. At least I don’t get a headache trying to follow them.”
“Are you this open with all your clients, or do you usually pretend you’re vaguely coherent?”
“Most clients wouldn’t get to see me until I choose to see them. You’re the only one comes crashing through the door expecting me to spring into action.”
“Would you be less antagonistic if I weren’t sleeping with Crowley?”
“Will you stop saying that? I have enough trouble defending you without having to prove you’re not a promiscuous lush.”
“I stopped drinking years ago.”
“I rest my case.”
“What?”
“Only people with drinking problems do that.”
“Good point. Wanna go get a drink?”
“What?”
“When I was drinking, the only real cure for a hangover was a good, stiff drink.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
Cora left Becky’s and went over to the police station. Dan Finley was on the phone when she came in. He covered the mouthpiece. “Chief’s at Town Hall.”
Cora nodded and went over to the town hall building.
She figured Dan meant the county clerk’s office. She figured right. The chief was there. So was Sergeant Crowley. The chief was standing around looking glum. Crowley was going over the files.
“What’s he doing here?” Cora said.
Harper grunted. “Better ask him.”
Crowley looked up from the file cabinet. “I’m not having any luck with my crime, so I’m trying to solve yours. Chief thinks I’m stepping on his toes, but I’m not.”
“That may well be,” Cora said. “But I imagine he takes it as a comment on his job.”
“Yeah, well, it isn’t. It’s a comment on mine. I’m getting nowhere. Zip, zero, zilch. What makes it worse, I got six detectives on the case, and we still can’t come up with anything. I’m at a dead end. I’m desperate.” He turned to Harper. “You
don’t
have six detectives combing through every bit of evidence. So I got a shot at finding something new. Plus, your break-in happened before my murder. The guy may not have had everything worked out yet. He may have been careless. He may have made a mistake.”
“Yes, isn’t that diplomatic,” Harper said. “You know what it looks like? You stay over because you don’t trust me to protect her. You review the evidence because you think I missed something. Bottom line is you don’t think I can do my job.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“What are you doing?” Cora said.
Crowley had taken a drawer out of the file cabinet and set it on the floor. He sat down next to it and pawed through the files. “I’m trying to figure out what there could be in there that would be of interest to someone who wanted to kill somebody in New York.”
“That’s stupid,” Cora said.
“Thanks a lot.” Crowley looked up at Harper. “Is she usually this supportive?”
“That’s nothing. Wait’ll you hit her with a theory.”
“
Why
is that stupid?” Crowley said.
“New York is incidental.
I’m
the Bakerhaven connection.”
“First thing I looked for. And I can’t find a thing.”
Cora looked at the file cabinet. “You looked in here for me?”
“Yes.”
“Under Cora Felton?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, there’s your problem. I wasn’t Cora Felton when I came here. I was Cora Crabtree.”
“What?”
“Legally,” Cora said. She waggled her hand. “Well, semi-legally. Melvin Crabtree is my ex-husband. When I moved here I was still using his name. We were divorced, but he was paying me alimony. Still is, by the way. Anyway, I’m on the books as Cora Crabtree.”
“Why, if you were divorced?”
“Because Sherry was hiding out from her ex-husband, and we didn’t want any records anyone could look up. So I used my married name.”
“Who would know that?”
“The town clerk,” Harper said.
“Right. But why would that get her killed?”
“Well,” Harper said, “if the killer broke in looking for Cora Felton, couldn’t find her, and came back and asked the town clerk why not, then she’d become a liability.”
“Yeah, but if he got the information, why would he break in again?”
“He broke into the police station,” Cora pointed out.
“Yeah, but not to steal your file.”
“Hey, you’re not the only cop to ever arrest me. Lots of cops make mistakes.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Harper said dryly.
“Well, was I guilty?” Cora said. “I’m not saying you didn’t have grounds. I’m saying the charges were dismissed.”
“What charges?” Crowley said.
“That’s not important,” Cora said.
“I’ll be the judge of that. What charges?” When Harper hesitated, he said, “It’s a matter of public record.”
“Then why didn’t you ask for it?”
“I didn’t know it was relevant.”
“It’s
not
relevant,” Cora said irritably.
“Then why are you trying so hard to suppress it?”
Cora made a face. “I was arrested for murder a few years back.”
“Murder?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t do
that
one,” Cora said. “So how could it possibly be relevant?”
“Now you’re just playing with me,” Crowley said.
“You see what I have to put up with?” Harper said.
“It’s a wonder you’re still sane.”
“Boys, boys, I’m glad you’re having fun at my expense, but you’re missing the point. We’re getting far afield. Just when things seemed promising. The killer breaks in here, looks for my file, doesn’t find it. Questions the clerk, learns my file is Crabtree. By rights he should break in again, but he doesn’t. Instead he kills the town clerk. Why does he do that?”
“So the town clerk can’t identify him,” Harper said.
“Yes, yes,” Cora said impatiently. “That’s gotta be the motive. The killer breaks in, can’t find what he’s looking for. He asks the town clerk, kills the town clerk. Doesn’t make use of the information. Therefore the premise is wrong. The killer doesn’t go back to the town clerk for more information. The killer gets all the information he needs during the break-in. Now, how can that be?”
“Maybe he knew you were Crabtree
before
he broke in,” Crowley said.
Cora made a face. Next thing she knew, they’d be pinning it on Melvin. “That doesn’t make sense. If he knew that much about me, why would he
need
to see my file?”
“I don’t know, but I mean to find out,” Crowley said. He clambered to his feet, pulled open the file cabinet drawer marked
C
, took out a file. “Let’s see. Connors? No.
C-R.
Closer to the end. Here we go. Let’s see. Cranwell, no. Ah! Here we are. Crabtree, Cora.” He examined the file. “Appears all right. So, who would know if anything’s missing?” He nodded ironically in answer to his own question. “The town clerk.”
His cell phone rang. He muttered an imprecation, jerked it out of his pocket, and flipped it open. “Crowley … What!… You’re kidding. I’ll be right there!”
He flipped the cell phone shut.
“What’s the matter?” Cora said.
“My apartment’s been robbed.”
Chapter
37
“I should have
seen this coming,” Cora said.
“Oh, really?” Crowley said. He swerved around an SUV, rocketed down the Merritt Parkway.
“The killer broke into my house. The killer broke into the police station. It’s only logical he’d break into your apartment, too.”
“Why is that logical? He had no reason to break into my apartment.”
“He had no reason to break into my house.”
“Yes, he did. He left the crossword puzzle.”
“Yeah, but why did he have to break in? He could have sent it in the mail. He could have taped it to the door like he did the last time.”
“He wanted to put it on your computer.”