by Nero Blanc
“Not on my cell phone bill you don’t. Besides, we are two grown men, Belle—with reasonably developed vocabularies.”
She didn’t respond to this sally, instead asking a pointed, “I guess you’re not willing to supply further info?”
“Not yet … All we’ve got to go on is a hunch and a questionable cause of death.”
“But I thought Meg—”
“I’ll let you know if I learn anything.”
Again, Belle sighed. “I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting.”
“One quick thing before you go—”
“What’s that?”
“A five-letter word for Not right?”
“Wrong?”
“Hah! Nice try … but no way, José. Keep those home fires burning!”
AN arduous hour later, the crossword was complete. Steve stared at it without speaking, and in that space of time, a single lamp in the kitchen glowed into life, although neither of the friends was aware that the world of electrical current and high-speed communications had soundlessly returned to the Lancaster County hamlet.
“Why do you suppose Meg created this and then hid it?” Steve wondered aloud.
“Could she have been worried about Greta’s reaction?” Rosco asked. “Worried about possible consequences? That it would be destroyed out of hand?”
Steve continued to gaze at the crossword. “But Meg and I were so close. She could have—”
“Maybe she believed she had shared this with you already. Remember, her mind was playing serious tricks on her.”
Steve said nothing while Rosco returned his attention to the crossword. “No month or year … no newspaper of origin … Even with Meg’s own words, there’s no way we can contest the will Greta possesses. Like you said, we need a date.”
The men sat in discouraged silence until Rosco suddenly reached for his cell phone.
“Just because there’s no date left on the newspaper doesn’t mean there wasn’t one there to begin with.” He punched ten numbers into the phone; Belle answered on the first ring.
“No, all we have is a grid and Meg’s handwritten clues …” Rosco cupped his hand over the phone and turned to Steve. “I was right, Belle thinks she may be able to trace the puzzle by its design. She knows most of the puzzle editors at the major daily newspapers. If we could just get to a fax—”
Simultaneously, both men became aware of the change in light.
“The power’s back on …” Steve almost shouted. “And yes, I have a fax in my studio …”
Rosco raised his eyebrows in a mocking fashion.
“And no, I don’t want to hear any quips about the modern age. Remember, I’m a businessman.” He had his jacket and gloves on before he stopped speaking.
Rosco bowed facetiously and said, “Please lead on, oh Twenty-First-Century Man.”
IN Steve’s woodworking shop, time passed and the fax remained dishearteningly silent. Rosco paced among the tools of Sutter’s trade, picking them up and examining them as if they were as strange to him as surgical instruments.
“Jigsaw?” he asked as he placed his hand on the base of one of the few power tools.
“Band saw.”
“Right … And of course, this would be a … a …?”
“Lathe.”
“Absolutely. That’s what I thought.”
Rosco picked up another tool from the workbench, and Steve said, “Coping saw,” without waiting for Rosco to ask.
“Huh. No glue gun? Everything in our house is held together with a glue gun. It’s my tool of choice. Kind of a Martha Stewart thing … I’ve been thinking of getting a holster for it.”
Steve was giving only partial attention to Rosco’s banter. “I hope we don’t lose power again …” he muttered under his breath. “Maybe a tree limb took out another phone line.”
Suddenly the fax sprang to life, spitting out Meg’s crossword and a lengthy note from Belle. Rosco read it and began paraphrasing for his anxious friend. “The puzzle, i.e. the grid and original clues, was syndicated throughout the country July twenty-third of this year. Bingo, we’re dated! That’s nineteen days after Amos’s death, and almost eighteen months after the will Greta has—”
Steve interrupted. “So the end of the message at 42-and 61-Across—”
“No question about it … I say they definitely refer to Amos’s passing. And Meg’s illness, too … Looks like your Christmas gift has arrived just in time, my friend.”
A Partridge in a Pear Tree
ACROSS
1. Not right
6. Roll of cash
9. Barcelona buddy
14. Richardson or Fiennes
15. Writer Levin
16. Enticed
17. A Bird in the Hand, 1
20. Stomped on
21. Butterfly snagger
22. Smokehouse specialty
25. Englishmen’s sun?
34. Sib of sis
31. “___my word”
33. Distress
34. Watermelon annoyance
35. A Bird in the Hand, 2
40. Fountain treat
41. Set of two
42. A Bird in the Hand, 3
49. Certain milkweed
50. Corn unit
51. Stratagem
52. Consumed
53. Confused
57. Partnership inits.
58. Air; comb form
59. Consumer
61. A Bird in the Hand, 4
69. Ryan or Tatum
70. .001 inch
71. Spell of indulgence
72. Unique individuals
73. Knot
74. Missouri feeder
DOWN
1. Big name at Notre Dame
2. ___de mer
3. Under the weather
4. One way to dispose of 34-Across
5. Clipped
6. Certain flounders
7. Mr. Onassis
8. 28-Across parent
9. Back street
10. Join
11. Ms. Lupino
12. Head of state? abbr.
13. Little bill
18. Seek affection
19. Three___match
22. Hovel
23. Mil. address
24. 28-Across parent
26. Drama from 37-Down
27. Tough place to crawl out of?
28. Wax maker
29. Gun
30. Lyric poem
32. Oregon border town
34. Remove paint
36. Tip the noggin
37. Tokyo, formerly
38. Rogue
39. Letter opener?
42. “Found it!”
43. Home site
44. Affirmative vote
45. Treat for Trigger
46. Building addition
47. Storage tub
48. Stop
53. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner
54. NYC subway line
55. Sugar; suffix
56. Washington border town
58. A ways off
60. Tears
61. Also
62. Rest stop
63. Catch sight of
64. Rescue pro
65. Jr.’s son
66. Time of note
67. Broc. or spin.
68. Shoe size
To download a PDF of this puzzle, please visit openroadmedia.com/nero-blanc-crosswords
Mum’s the Word
Mum’s the Word
ACROSS
1. Grudge
5. 1-Across, e.g.
9. Ploy
11. Criticize
13. With 4-Down, New Year’s Day
14. Philly’s strutters
16. Antique
17. Pitch
19. Merida Mrs.
20. Quaker foe?
21. Saunters
23. Poker pile
24. “___luck!”
26. Web address; abbr.
27. Drudgery
29.
Herman and Allen
31. Hightails
33. Alien craft; abbr.
34. Some hosp. rooms
35. Odd-ball
38. “___in St. Louis”
41. Behind the___ball
42. A Gardner
44. Bloodier
46. NBC offering
47. Breathes their last
50. Retirement acct.
51. Here, in Italy
52. Stinks
53. Russian fighter
54. A-One
57. Jail bird
60. Compositions
61. TV show opener
62. Some msgs.
63. H. H. Munro
DOWN
1. Not so honest hombre
2. Old French coin
3. Flight info
4. See 13-Across
5. Schuylkill sight
6. Actress Dawber
7. Cash mach.
8. “X Marks___”
9. 37-Down ingredient
10. Island off Turkey
11. Like 52-Across
12. “The Comedy of___”
13. Actor Grey
15. Quench
18. Super ending?
21. Untimely demise?
22. Plate passers?
25. Bridge position
28. Certain perennial
30. Hither and___
32. Runner Sebastian
35. Revolutionary man?
36. Least attractive
37. Candles
38. In Europe it’s common
39. Pyramid architect, formally
40. Odder
41. Some lwyrs.
43. Strive
45. Fad
48. Takes a look inside?
49. Road turns
55. WWII craft
56. Set down
58. FAA predecessor
59. Question
To download a PDF of this puzzle, please visit openroadmedia.com/nero-blanc-crosswords
NAH, nah, the first Freddie Five Fingers was killed back in ’Fifty-four at Fifth and Fitzwater on February fourteenth … Way before my time, obviously, but sort of Philadelphia’s version of the Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre … Of course, Freddie was the only goon bumped off, so massacre’s kind of a stretch of the imagination, even by South Philly standards.”
Jack Keegan stabbed his fork into his one remaining gingered shrimp and popped it into his mouth. Although he’d eaten lunch in Chinatown—Noh Joy’s, to be precise—twice a week for the last thirty years, he still had yet to warm up to the idea of chopsticks. “My hands are like potatoes here,” he was fond of saying. “I trip over my own fingers. I mean, look at these mitts.” Then he’d flex his broad hands, emphasizing their size and strength—the necessary tools of the trade when one’s trade was mixing it up with underworld characters on a daily basis.
Jack Keegan had spent his entire FBI career chasing down mobsters in South Philadelphia. Up until now, it had been a more or less break-even situation, or as he liked to say: “Sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you.” Lately, however, law enforcement had been on the winning side. A number of high-ranking, high-profile hoods had been convicted of an assortment of crimes and dispatched to a tight facility in Western Pennsylvania, resulting in a marked slowdown in nefarious activity south of South Street.
“Since the summer things have been—”
Jack was interrupted as Belle Graham abruptly sneezed. In unison, he and Rosco said, “God bless you.”
“Thanks. I hope I’m not coming down with something—” She sneezed again, pulled a tissue from her pocket, and dabbed at her nose. “I had no idea Philadelphia had such a colorful history—other than the Declaration of Independence, Liberty Bell, Constitution, et cetera, which are obviously no slouches in terms of national significance … But the Mummers Parade … Would you say it’s like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, except cold?”
“Cold. Right …” Jack nodded. “Anyway, I was gonna say that things were pretty quiet around here until Christmas Day. That’s when Freddie Five Fingers—the second Freddie Five Fingers, that is—turned up dead.”
“Not to be flip,” Rosco interjected, “but doesn’t everyone have five fingers?”
“Yeah, right … but this Freddie’s real name was Hermann, so he just adopted the name from the first Freddie, hoping the slimy lowlife reputation would follow. It has a better ring than, say, Horse Head Hermann; at least in South Philly … Then, over the years he kind of lost the Fingers part, and was basically just known as Freddie Five.”
Rosco shrugged, unsure if his question about the five fingers had been answered or not.
“And Freddie was a bookmaker?” Belle asked through a sniffle, using her cup of green tea to warm her hands.
“Ostensibly. He was real good with numbers, real good. But Freddie Five was into just about everything—none of the rough stuff, though. Never a hit or knee capping.”
“And you never knew it was Freddie Five who was secretly sending you those, ah … instructive crossword puzzles?” Rosco asked.
“Well, they never went directly to the FBI; they were always submitted to the local newspaper, the Philadelphia Inquirer—known hereabouts as the ‘Inky’… When Freddie’s first puzzle arrived—this was about four years ago—one of the editors got suspicious and forwarded it to us. The messages were always fairly obvious; DRUG DEAL ON NINTH—” Jack looked at Belle with a proud smile. “Fifteen letters, right? Fits right across a daily puzzle grid, huh?”
She nodded and sniffled once again.
“Yeah, I remember that one … Anyway, Freddie’d do something like: CORNER OF KIMBALL, BE THERE AT FOUR AM, LOOK FOR JOEY DOGS; that sort of thing. He was real good … I mean, the things looked like the genuine article … Actually, they were the genuine article … Like this one I gave you. Which is why he never blew his cover … So as I was sayin’, these crossword tip-offs would appear every six months or so. The editor would send them to the Bureau, and we’d move in and make the bust. But we never knew it was Freddie Five who constructed them. Never would have figured he was a snitch. Freddie was a real high-profile guy—”
“Until he turned up dead.”
“Right. That’s when we found that puzzle in a kitchen drawer.” Keegan pointed at the Mum’s the Word crossword. “We realized that Freddie Five had been our informant all this time. The handwriting’s a dead ringer—if you will—for the other puzzles. But for the life of me, we can’t make hide nor hair of this one.”
“It has a nice symmetry,” Belle agreed, “but you’re right, there’s nothing foreboding about these answers—just a slight New Year’s Day theme.”
“I sure appreciate the two of you making the trip down from Massachusetts to help out with this. Like I said before, your reputations precede you. And I figured if anyone could get into Freddie Five’s word-game psyche, it would be Belle. I’m guessing he wouldn’t have made that puzzle unless he was trying to tip us off to something. Something big.”
It was Rosco who posed the next question. “I’m assuming you believe his associates had uncovered his double life?”
“I’m certain of it. It was a classic mob hit: .22 right behind the ear. But I don’t think they knew how Freddie was passing the skinny to us, or they wouldn’t have left this piece of evidence behind. His place was torn apart.” Jack split open his fortune cookie and groaned. “‘All things come to he who waits.’ What the hell is this?” He turned and looked toward the kitchen. “I think Noh Joy sets me up with these cookies … She sees me coming. She likes to torment me. She knows I’m not a patient kind of guy.”
Rosco reached for his own cookie. “But I don’t see why Freddie would snitch on his own people … What was in it for him? Clearly, he wasn’t on the Bureau’s payroll.”
“No way. But every goon he ratted on was into him for five or six large ones, and—”
“Large ones?” Belle interrupted.
“Large ones. A grand … thousand do
llars. Each of these guys Freddie fingered owed him over five thousand dollars in gambling losses … Sometimes, a whole lot more … And these musclemen are notorious for sticking bookies with their losses. They’re the first ones at the door when the Eagles beat the point-spread, but they’re nowhere to be found when it comes time to collect the damage … Guys like Freddie just have to write it off as bad debt—protection money, if you will. You push ’em for the coin, you wind up in Pennsylvania Hospital.”
“But Freddie found a way of getting even,” Belle mused.
“You got it …’til it all caught up with him.”
Rosco opened his cookie. “‘Dance and the whole world dances favorably’… Must have lost something in the translation.” He shrugged and tossed the slip of paper into the ashtray. “Any idea who might have killed your man?”
“I’d bet money it was ordered by Nicky Grapes, but he probably wasn’t the trigger man. He seems to be the one most likely to step into Sonny Pancakes’s shoes since Sonny got sent up last summer.”
“These are real names—Pancakes, Grapes?” Belle asked.
“Nah. All these guys have street names. Like Sonny never got any sun? Never went ‘down the shore,’ as they say. He was always white as batter … So they called him Pancakes.”
“And Grapes?”
“Grapes. You know, it’s slang for …” Jack cleared his throat and looked at Rosco for help.
Rosco said, “Eh … I think it might have something to do with wine consumption.”
“Hmmm,” Belle said, sneezed once more, and read off her fortune. “‘Seek and you shall find the truth.’ I like that. I guess I should be studying this crossword a little closer …”
“Freddie was always very clear on the: WHO, WHAT, WHERE, and WHEN clues … But I’m not seeing those in this puzzle.” Keegan made no attempt to hide his frustration.
“Well, we do have JANUARY FIRST as the solution to 13-Across and 4-Down. And MUMMERS at 14-Across. That’s a start.”
“Along with the title,” Rosco added as he looked at Agent Keegan. “It looks to me like you’re right in suspecting that something might be going down at the Mummers Parade tomorrow.”
Jack groaned again. “That’s what I kept coming up with. Freddie’s got MARKET at 38-down … That’s the main street for the parade route. Center City. What a nightmare. Have you two ever been to the Mummers Parade?”
“I saw some of it on TV when I was young,” Belle said. “It looked like fun.”
