Cora burst in the door of Sherry’s bedroom. “Get up! Get up!”
Sherry sat up in bed, pulled the sheet to her neck. “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.
Aaron blinked groggily. “Cora?”
“Get up! Get up! We got troubles!”
“I’m not dressed,” Sherry protested.
“I’m not shocked,” Cora said. “Come on, come on! Get up!”
Sherry looked from Aaron to Cora. “This is ridiculous. If either one of you left I could get dressed.”
“Fine. Meet me in the office. I’ll be destroying the scanner.”
“What?”
Minutes later Sherry padded barefoot into the office to find Cora fumbling at the scanner.
“How do you start this? Isn’t there an ON switch?”
“Not like you mean. You run it through the computer. What are you trying to scan?”
“A crossword puzzle.”
Sherry lifted the lid of the scanner. “Why is it ripped?”
“Don’t start with me.”
“Cora, what’s going on?”
“I need you to copy this, solve it, and bring it to me.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Yes. I’m losing it. It’s all coming apart on me. I need this, and I need this fast.”
“You’re not going to show it to anybody?”
“The copy? Are you out of your mind?”
Sherry whisked the puzzle out of the scanner, fed it into the fax machine, hit COPY. “This is faster. It’s not as good quality.”
“I don’t care. You could do it on toilet paper. Just do it. I need to know what it says before the cops ask me.”
“Why are the cops going to ask you?”
“They’re funny that way.” Cora grabbed the original. “Solve it and meet me at the Tastee Freez.”
Sherry frowned. “Isn’t that the crime scene?”
“It sure is. Bring that boyfriend of yours.”
“Why?”
“He’ll be pissed if you don’t. And you need his car.”
Cora slammed out the door, hopped in the Toyota, roared down the driveway. She sped back to the Tastee Freez, praying she’d be in time.
She wasn’t.
The cops were there.
The channel 8 news team was trying to interview Chief Harper, with little success. Rick Reed, clueless on-camera reporter, wasn’t swift enough to formulate a coherent question, and Harper wasn’t volunteering anything.
“But it’s a murder?” Rick persisted.
Chief Harper shrugged. “I’m not a medical examiner. It’s not my place to say.”
“Well, how was he found?”
“By Dan Finley on routine mid-morning drive-around.”
“Well, in what position was the body in? Was there a murder weapon present?”
“Again, you use the word
murder.
You can’t have a murder weapon without a murder.”
“And you don’t have a murder?”
“It’s not my place to make that determination at this time.” Chief Harper noticed Cora Felton driving up. “Excuse me,” he told Rick
Reed, and descended on the Toyota. “Cora. Thank goodness you’re here. I need your help.”
Cora blinked. It was a moment of truth. Cora had to admit to stealing the puzzle.
Or not.
If Cora admitted to stealing the puzzle, she could produce it, replace it, tap-dance around not being able to solve it.
It would be sticky. If the puzzle was discovered on the sword, Cora could stall until Sherry got there, and find some way to use the completed puzzle to copy from. But under the scrutiny afforded a pilfered puzzle? Unless she could come up with an explanation for it fast, there was no way to solve it under Chief Harper’s nose. After all, this was a murder, the puzzle was evidence, concealing evidence was a crime. Cora was an outstanding citizen, who could never resort to anything illegal.
She had to own up to finding the body.
Cora took a breath. “What happened?” she said, and sealed her fate.
“We got another one.”
“Another body?”
“You knew?”
“Three police cars, an ambulance, and the medical examiner. At the same crime scene. It’s déjà vu all over again.”
“Yeah, it’s a zoo,” Harper said.
“How’d channel eight get here so soon?”
“I don’t know. I think Dan tips ’em off.”
“He found the body?”
“Uh-huh.” Harper led Cora around to the back. “Who tipped you off, Cora?”
“Saw it on TV.”
“Really? They just got here.”
“I guess it was a lead-in from the studio.”
“Oh.”
Cora exhaled, realized she’d been holding her breath. Chief Harper wasn’t suspicious, just making small talk.
They came around the side of the Tastee Freez to find the body of the detective on the ground.
“Hell, right in the same place,” Cora said.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Harper told her.
Dr. Barney Nathan was kneeling over the body, blocking their view.
“Don’t tell me he’s missing half his face?”
“No.” Harper dragged Cora to the side, pointed. “How do you like that?”
Cora gasped. “Is that a
samurai
sword?”
“That would be my guess. You happen to recognize the gentleman?”
“Yeah. That’s the private eye I told you about last night. The one I suggested might make trouble.”
Chief Harper leveled his finger. “Don’t you dare.”
“Dare what, Chief? I’m not blaming anyone. Just because I reported the guy. There’s no reason you had to act on it.”
Chief Harper sputtered in protest.
Cora said, “Hmm, he seems to have known he was being stabbed.”
“Yeah, that sort of thing is apt to grab your attention.”
“I mean his hands. Wrapped around the blade. Sliced to the bone. Shows the guy wasn’t knocked out first and then stabbed. The sword wasn’t an afterthought. It was the main weapon.”
“I’m sure Barney will come to that conclusion. You happen to notice the paper on the sword?”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Why?”
“If it’s a crossword puzzle, I’m going to freak out. A person can’t get killed in this damn town without a crossword puzzle involved.”
“You find that unlikely?”
“No kidding. If I read it in a book, I’d throw the damn thing across the room.”
“I agree. Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You. You live here. You attract crossword-related people. When they don’t like each other, people die.”
“You’re telling me it is a crossword puzzle?”
“Not quite.”
“Can I see it?”
“Just as soon as Barney’s done. He gets cranky when I interrupt his crime-scene examinations.”
Chief Harper had spoken out loud. The dapper doctor turned his head. “Would you prefer I withheld my preliminary finding until I get him back to the morgue?”
“Of course not, Barney. You and the gentleman carry on.”
“So what is it?” Cora demanded.
“It’s a sudoku puzzle.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Wish I were.”
“Is it done?”
“No. That’s why I’m glad to see you.” Harper flushed. “I don’t mean that how it came out. I mean in terms of the investigation. I need you to solve it.”
Cora frowned. “Why?”
“It’s been left as a clue.”
“A clue to what?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t need to solve it. Can you solve it for me?”
“Of course.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“It’s just numbers. It won’t tell you anything.”
“I don’t care. I want it done.”
“You’re going to have to take it off the sword.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s evidence. It’s got to be processed as evidence.”
“Okay. So when you get a copy, I’ll solve it. Not that it’s going to do you any good.”
“Are you sure you can solve it?” Harper asked.
“I imagine half the people in America can solve it. These things are the rage.”
“Good. Hey, Barney. You gonna move the body with the sword stuck in?”
“Not unless you got some way to immobilize it. It’ll bounce around in the ambulance and cut the guy in two.”
“Nice image, Barney.”
“Well, what do you want me to say? It’s not like I get a samurai sword killing every other week. This happens to be my first.”
“Are you prepared to remove the sword from the body?”
“If I say yes, you’ll tell me it’s evidence, and you don’t want me to touch it.”
“I don’t want you to mess up any fingerprints that might be on it. But you think you could ease it out of the wound?”
“I’ll have to pry his fingers off it first. The blade’s imbedded in the bone. Hell of a way to go.”
“Yeah. Hey, Dan!” Chief Harper and Cora came around the side of the ice cream parlor to find the young officer chatting with the channel 8 news team. “Dan!”
Dan Finley came trotting up. “Yeah?”
“Get an evidence bag big enough for a slide trombone. We’ll use it for the sword.”
“I’m not sure we got one.”
“I don’t care if we use a body bag, come up with something.”
Aaron Grant’s Honda pulled up behind the news van. The young reporter looked peeved as he got out. Cora knew how he felt. TV had scooped him again.
Sherry hurried over to her aunt.
“You got it?” Cora whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Slip it in my drawstring purse.”
“You
slip it in your drawstring purse.” Sherry surreptitiously stuck the folded paper in Cora’s hand.
Aaron Grant pushed his way up. “The TV guys are freaking out. They can’t go back there. What’s the score?”
“Well, you didn’t hear it from me—” Cora began.
“Then who did I hear it from?” Aaron interrupted.
“Take it easy,” Sherry said. “Cora’s only trying to help.”
“Sorry. Never mind the source. What’s the scoop?”
“The dead man out back’s got a samurai sword sticking in his chest.”
“What?!”
“That’s right. And I have it on good authority the camera crew isn’t gonna get a shot of it when they bring out the body, because Barney Nathan is going to remove it and Dan Finley is going to put it in an evidence bag. So, unless Rick couldn’t-find-his-nose-withtwo-hands-and-a-map Reed happens to stumble over the right question, channel eight viewers aren’t going to know a thing about a samurai sword till they read your account in the
Gazette.”
If anything was going to lift Aaron’s spirits, scooping TV should have been it. But it occurred to Cora he didn’t look all that pleased. A sad commentary on the state of his impending marriage.
“Finley’s going to have the sword,” Cora said. “It might be good to create some sort of diversion so that channel eight doesn’t cop to it.”
“Fine,” Aaron said. “Who’s the victim?”
“Appears to be a private eye from New York.”
Aaron’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding!”
“No.”
“But …”
“But what?”
“So was the first one.”
“Yes.”
“Killed here.”
“Well, at least dumped here.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t make the facts, I just find them,” Cora said. “Uh-oh, here comes the body.”
An EMS team wheeled a gurney around the side of the Tastee Freez. To the disappointment of channel 8, the body was covered by a sheet. There was clearly nothing sticking out of the chest.
The gurney bumped right by Dan Finley, returning from the police car with a construction-size black plastic garbage bag.
“Well,” Cora said. “Looks like you lucked into a natural diversion.” She turned, trotted behind Dan Finley back to the crime scene.
Chief Harper stood gingerly holding the hilt of the sword with plastic gloves. “What have you got there? I said evidence bag, not trash bag.”
“Best I could do, Chief. Unless you want me to drive to Danbury.”
“If I put the murder weapon in a trash bag, the defense attorney will have a field day in court.”
“They’ll never know,” Cora said.
Still complaining, Chief Harper began the process of putting the murder weapon in Dan Finley’s trash bag.
Cora Felton stepped up to inspect the crime scene.
A chalk line had been drawn around where the body had lain. Aside from that, there was little to see. Cora didn’t care.
Around the far side of the body, near the edge of the lot, a deep embankment ran off through the bushes into the woods.
Cora stole a glance at Chief Harper and Dan Finley. Their intention was fixed on getting the sword into the bag. There was no one else in sight.
Cora spun around as if her ankle had turned. She shrieked, and, arms flailing, flung herself backward down the bank.
The underbrush broke her fall. It also scratched her face, tore her clothes, and snagged her drawstring purse.
Cora plunged her hand into her purse, and came out with the
crossword puzzle. Not the copy Sherry had solved. The original, unsolved puzzle with the jagged tear.
With the puzzle in her hand, Cora righted herself, scrambled toward the bank.
Chief Harper and Dan Finley appeared above her.
“My God, are you all right?” Harper cried.
Cora flashed him her trademark smile. She wondered how it looked from above. “Couldn’t be better.” She thrust the crossword puzzle over her head. “Look what I found.”