Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series Box Set

by Tanya R. Taylor

  “And put him in the shed,” I added.

  “I figured someone would find him out there sooner or later.” He released a heavy sigh. “After you get the letter and copy it, then you can tell the Sheriff I said if he gets a handwriting expert to check it out, I will sign a full confession, laying everything out on the table for everyone to know.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  Raymond thanked me for coming and listening to what he had to say. I must admit, I felt drained as I was leaving. Maybe it was the fact that my heart was heavy knowing that Harry James had his own brother’s blood on his hand.

  Sheriff Cooke walked us out to the parking lot.

  “Looks like we won’t be making that Manchester trip anymore,” I said to Merlene.

  “We’re not? Why not?”

  “Because what we were about to look for in Manchester is actually here in Chadsworth.”

  “What did he say?” Cooke asked.

  “A lot.” I studied him for a moment. “Sheriff, I need to know that I can trust you with what I learned today.”

  Merlene shook her head slowly as if to say Don’t do it!

  “What sort of remark is that, Lucille? You know you can.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Have I ever given you reason to believe I can’t be trusted?” he asked.

  “Well, I remember...” Merlene started.

  “Not you, Merlene. You’re just holding a grudge. What happened with your son had nothing to do with trust. I was just doing my job. It may not have been the way you would’ve preferred and I may have messed up to some degree, but there’s nothing you can come up with that shows I not trustworthy.” He turned to me. “Lucille, is this guy going to implicate anyone else in Luke Tucker’s murder?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “So, what did he tell you?”

  “Did you ever look into anything I asked you to, Sheriff?”

  “I did. I pulled out the evidence box and started going through it. I can only deal with it at night when I have more privacy,” he said. “I’m risking all my years on the job rehashing this case, but I gave you my word and I intend to keep it.”

  I usually know when people are lying to me and I was pretty sure Cooke was telling the truth.

  “What if all the answers fell at your fingertips, Sheriff, and you had to arrest some really high-society people? Would you put your retirement package and pension at that much of a risk?”

  “You’ve got something.” He narrowed his eyes. “What is it? What did he tell you?”

  “I’ll call you about it later,” I said. “But I think you ought to know that Merlene and I received death threats by way of a phone call last night.”

  “What?” he was clearly shocked. “Death threats?”

  “Whomever it is apparently don’t like us digging into Sir Clement’s case.”

  He looked away briefly, shaking his head. “I figured there were some really bad guys connected to this case; that’s why I never bothered to touch it,” he said. “Did a number attached to the call appear on your caller ID, Merlene?”

  “It was a private call,” she replied, “and the same for Lucille.”

  “With your permission, we can put a tap on your phone lines in case they call back. And hopefully, we’d be able to trace the call and their location. I can have it set up by this afternoon at both residences. Will that be okay? He glanced at Merlene and me.

  “Sure,” she said. “It’s the least you could do.

  I agreed to the idea as well.

  “I will also have squad cars circling your neighborhood and parking outside your house as often as they can.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring.” Merlene rolled her eyes.

  “Merlene!” I barked. “Give the sheriff a break, will you?”

  She folded her arms and sucked her teeth. That woman was a piece of work.

  “I’ll give you guys a call around four pertaining to the installation,” he said.

  “We thank you wholeheartedly, Sheriff,” I replied.

  16

  _________________

  “I don’t appreciate you scolding me like a child in front of that jerk!” Merlene barked as she skidded out of the prison parking lot. She’d probably hoped those tires had kicked up some dust while Cook was still standing where we left him.

  “I did no such thing, Merlene,” I replied. “You were acting like a spoiled brat.”

  “Really?” she glared at me. “I’ll tell you who’s spoiled!”

  “Okay, tell me later. Right now, we have to focus on the task at hand and get that letter.”

  “What letter?” she asked.

  I filled her in.

  “So, we’re breaking into this guy's house now?” she asked.

  “No. He politely told me where I should find the spare key.”

  “So, sounds like this is it, huh? The truth will finally be out?”

  “I guess. Surely hope so.”

  She could hardly believe Sir Clement’s brother was the one that actually killed him and wondered if the truth we sought could really get any worse. I had a feeling it could.

  We pulled up in front of 201 Anselm’s Drive. It was a quiet neighborhood comprised mostly of single-storey homes. It reminded me of the neighborhood I lived in as a child. Clean, usually quiet and cozy.

  The Allisters’ house was white, trimmed blue with a white wall surrounding the property. There was no gate attached to the wall, which made the yard easily accessible. The front lawn was spotted with many flowering plants which made it appear quite crowded; but to each his own.

  I told Merlene where to find the key as we mounted the front porch.

  “It’s here!” she said, pulling it out of the lampshade. She then inserted it into the door and turned the knob. Inwardly, I didn't see anyone, but I cautioned Merlene to glance around quickly before we stepped inside. Raymond was right when he said we needed to be careful. I’d wanted to ask Sheriff Cooke to accompany us to the Allisters’ house, but I remembered Raymond imploring me to make a copy of the letter first before handing it to anyone. I wanted to make sure Cooke couldn’t steal the only copy I knew about, if he turned out to be dirty. And I figured the best thing to do was to keep him out of the picture for the time being—at least until the letter was safe and secured.

  Cleo Allister kept a very neat house for a woman with two teenage children. Either that or a housekeeper was the one keeping it clean. It wasn’t decorated all fancy or anything—nice, simple furniture, white walls, brown curtains in the living room. It definitely had a cozy feel.

  We headed over to the flower vase at the side of the wall and Merlene got down on hands and knees and slipped her hand beneath the loose carpeting.

  “Got it!” she said, easing her hand out, moments later. She was holding a white letter-sized envelope.

  As she opened it, I could see the letter. It was definitely the missing part that matched what we’d found among the documents we’d retrieved from Luke Tucker’s house.

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Harry had made a complete confession that he obviously wanted revealed.

  “This must be what Tony Brawn was referring to when we were there,” I said. “Raymond said Luke had found it in Harry’s old house during a recent visit. It must’ve been tucked away in there all these years.”

  Merlene was in the middle of reading it with her jaw dropped and eyes widened. “I can’t believe this!” she quietly exclaimed. “How can anyone have done this?” Then she looked at me. “Lucille, this is much bigger than we thought!”

  “I know. Let’s get out of here. We have to get it copied ASAP.”

  We hurried toward the front door, but Merlene looked outside the living room windows first to see if anyone had followed us.

  “Coast clear!” she said. “Hurry to the car as fast as you can.” She jammed the envelope in her pocket and we got out of there. She was sure to lock the door behind us and place the key back in the lamp
shade.

  I was nervous the entire time we drove since we both knew the significance of what we had in our possession. This one document—once proven to be legitimate—was bound to blow Sir Clement’s case wide open. There were names named that Merlene and I were both familiar with—names of who many thought, including us, were upstanding citizens. The knowledge we suddenly had was about to turn Chadsworth upside down and I didn’t know if we’d ever recover.

  17

  _________________

  After getting that portion of the letter copied at an office supply store in town, we headed to my house where I hid it in the best place possible—the hollow area just behind my underwear drawer. I had to pull the entire drawer off the tracks first, then placed the letter inside the cabinet before sliding the drawer back in. Merlene was the only other person who knew where it was. She’d also kept a copy and planned to secure it—just in case.

  “We have to copy the other part too,” I said.

  “Well, fine time to say that!” Merlene snapped.

  “Well, you didn’t remember either, so who are you to judge?”

  All arguments aside, we went down to a copier place not too far away from my house and made a few copies of it. One of those was also placed behind my underwear drawer.

  “It’s time we called Cooke,” I said. “The quicker he jumps on this, the better.”

  “I’m so nervous!” Merlene said as we sat on my bed. “I can’t believe this is happening. We’ve actually found out the truth!”

  “Yep. The truth has been a long time coming.”

  I was still sort of nervous too and felt Cooke needed to get the lines tapped and police patrol in our areas right away. I dialed his number.

  “Sheriff, we need to see you right away. We won’t be coming to the station,” I said.

  “I was just about to call you,” he said. “I’m on my way to your house with the crew right now. They’ll go to Merlene’s next. And just so you know, police are already keeping a keen eye on you and Merlene’s area.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and told Merlene what he’d said. She was obviously a bit more relaxed.

  It was around 4:15 when Cooke and his people arrived. Two men got to work outside to do whatever they needed with the phone line while Merlene and I immediately summoned Cooke outside to the back porch. That’s when I handed him both parts of the letter. We hadn’t bothered to tape them together so as not to potentially damage any of the lettering.

  “My God!” he exclaimed as he read it. “This is much worse than I imagined. Where did you get this?”

  “Raymond Allister’s house,” I replied. I told him how Raymond said he got a hold of it and also that he would sign a full confession after it had been turned over to a handwriting expert.

  “So, what are you gonna do?” Merlene asked.

  “The only thing to do,” Cooke said. “This is no longer a cold case, as far as I’m concerned. No stone would’ve been left unturned time I get through ruffling some feathers!” He sounded fired up about this for the first time and it was comforting to see.

  He left the men doing their work, then headed out in his squad car to supposedly ‘get the show on the road’.

  Before nightfall, the guys had finished their work at both my house and Merlene’s.

  That evening, I was left with the task of explaining to Theodore that our phone was tapped and...why.

  * * * *

  A week later, Sheriff Cooke wasted no time in petitioning a judge to sign arrest warrants in the names of Judge Tobias Simon and wealthy businessman Peter Romero. The handwriting expert confirmed after conducting a comparison of Harry James Tucker’s other writings and the letter we handed in, that the letter, had in fact, been penned by Harry. Apparently, without a flinch, the sheriff was granted his wish and immediately, the men were cuffed and picked up at their residences. I heard they both kicked up a royal fuss and so did Governor Baltram Fuller. He demanded Cooke to stop the “witch hunt” at once and threatened his job security and retirement benefits—precisely what Cooke was determined to hold on to. Fuller called the men he’d arrested ‘honorable members of society’ and was clearly outraged. But Cooke told him he wasn’t afraid of his threats and was doing the job he was elected to do. I assumed the governor had no idea that he’d be next—not until they arrested him in his office for the role he played in the plot to kill Sir Clement Tucker.

  I finally understood why Tony Brawn was such a mess nowadays. He knew all about what these guys had done and they’d threatened his life and that of his family. Drove him out of his mind, then encouraged his committal. There was suddenly a malodorous stench in Chadsworth and for the first time in my life, I was rather ashamed to have been born here. This sort of political and judicial corruption surpassed what I’d ever seen in those big cities across the country. It was a sad day.

  Judge Tobias Simon was the first to rat out all of his co-conspirators with the hope of the prosecutors cutting him some slack. His confession would only shave five years off a possible forty-year sentence and if he survived those thirty-five years, he would be a centenarian by then, but time would only tell.

  Merlene and I were there in the gallery for the special hearing. It was a favor Sheriff Cooke had done since very few members of the public were permitted to witness those in Chadsworth. Mainly only members of the police force, judiciary and media were in attendance.

  Tobias Simon made himself right at home on the witness stand, dressed ever-so-sharply and looking like an old movie star. He had to face the presiding judge, Walter Ferrino, a man his junior. If you hadn’t known the facts of the case, you’d have never believed Simon had committed the crimes he was accused of.

  He cleared his throat, then said: “On the 20th day of November, 1982, I was approached by Peter Romero with a proposition. He knew I was the attorney for Sir Clement Tucker at the time and thought I might be interested in what he called a lucrative business transaction. We discussed the fact that Sir Clement was a foreigner who came here to Chadsworth and pretty much hogged up all the land, becoming wealthier than anyone else who’d been good enough to have been born here.”

  I couldn’t believe he actually said ‘good enough’. How smug can one man be?

  “I guess we all had a tinge of resentment in for Sir Clement or maybe it was jealousy, instead of just resentment and we wanted what he had. Peter Romero’s uncle at the time was the Chief Justice and Peter told me as long as his uncle was in charge, there’d be no problem with me signing off on all the transactions that would take place over a period of time relating to Sir Clement’s property—once he was no longer in the picture.” He paused for a moment, surveying the room. He had to have noticed the look of shock and repulsion on the faces of those present. “Peter expressed his desire to bring Harry Tucker in on the plot,” he continued. “He was Sir Clement’s brother. Harry absolutely detested Sir Clement and the fact that he and Alfred thought they were better than he was because they didn’t have the same mother or upbringing. He related that he was pressured to give up his son after the boy’s mother died to Alfred who told him his son deserved better than he was able to afford and if he allowed Alfred to raise him, the boy would not know the struggles he’d been subjected to. Reluctantly, for the sake of the eighteen-month-old child, Harry gave in, and Alfred had him sign something that indicated he’d never reveal that he was actually the boy’s birth father. Harry had lived to regret that.”

  “So, he had a real chip on his shoulder?” Marie Cantua, his defense attorney asked. Her job was to assist him in getting all the relevant facts out for the sake of the court, as per the plea agreement.

  “Yeah, he did,” Simon stated. “We all thought he should be the one to murder Sir Clement because he had the most hatred toward him. The rest of us were more money-driven than having harbored any deep resentment to the extent Harry did, and Harry didn’t hesitate to oblige. We knew Sir Clement’s land would be automatically transferred over to Harry since Sir Clemen
t didn’t have a wife or children. And the law was, in such a case, the estate would go to the eldest brother, if there was no will in place. It was the biggest mistake Sir Clement made—not having a will. And we all knew he didn’t have one. Peter had shared that he and Sir Clement had a business meeting over lunch some months prior to the whole deal when the matter of composing a will came up just casually. He said that Sir Clement didn’t believe in having a will made up while still relatively young because doing so would be like a bad omen where chances were the person would die early. That’s why, up to that time, he hadn’t taken care of his affairs in that regard despite the vast assets he had. I don’t know where he got the notion or superstition, but that was his belief.” He paused to take a sip of water from the clear cup next to him.

  Interesting bit of information, I thought. How could Sir Clement have been so utterly reckless? I really could’ve kicked him for it.

  Judge Simon continued. “Harry was aware that he would have to transfer portions of the land to two of the members involved in apparent, legitimate business transactions. And then he was supposed to sell about a hundred acres and an equal share of the proceeds of the same would go to the now Governor Baltram Fuller and myself. Everything was supposed to happen rather quickly and it did.”