by Parnell Hall
“You certainly hustled me out of there in a hurry,” Cora said.
“No kidding.”
“What’s the deal?”
“The more this case develops, the more it occurs to me Melvin has fried your brain. Granted, things are coming at you thick and fast, what with another wife besides the one you thought you were dealing with. Even so, we have a bit of a perception gap here. You’re slow on the uptake. Which is rubbing off on me, making me slow on the uptake, which I cannot afford to be if I’m your attorney. God knows your attorney must be on the lookout at all times.”
“You mind telling me what you’re talking about?”
“I’m talking about the Pricherts. The people at one oh six North Street.”
“What about ’em?”
“Exactly. Don’t you care about them in the least?”
“Of course not. They have nothing to do with the case.”
“That’s right. They don’t mean a damn thing because you planted the gun in the mailbox. You know it. I know it. But Chief Harper doesn’t know it. Under normal circumstances, you would at least feign a little interest in the place you supposedly found the gun. But you can’t do that. You never even bothered to ask who lived at that address. Chief Harper didn’t notice, and God help me, I didn’t notice either until Bambi brought it up, which was the right and proper reaction to finding a gun hidden in someone’s mailbox. Whose mailbox was it? You didn’t ask, and when you found out you couldn’t have cared less. Ordinarily, you’d never make a bonehead play like that, but with Melvin around, you can’t think straight.”
“Hey. I can fire you, you know.”
“Not a good time in the midst of an alimony hearing. That’s for starters. When you’ve just made your attorney an accessory to a felony, it’s a very poor time.”
“Okay, I won’t fire you. But I might rough you up a bit.”
“Also considered a poor tactic with litigation pending.” Becky shook her head. “Cora, snap out of it. I need you sharp and focused. We have an advantage over the police because we know where you actually found the gun. Why was it there, and what does it mean? Which is probably the same thing. But at least we can ask those questions. The police can’t, which is going to hamper their investigation. So we better come up with something fast, before you’re put in the position where you have to confess that the location where the gun was found might not be entirely accurate.”
“That would be very messy.”
“No kidding. The gun was found next to Melvin’s room. A KenKen was slipped under his door, indicating it was there. Does that mean he did it, or does that mean he didn’t do it?”
“That means he didn’t do it.”
Becky threw up her hands in exasperation. “See? You can’t think straight. You give me a snap answer just like that.”
“I can think straight. It’s not a snap answer. Melvin may be pond scum, but he’s not stupid. He doesn’t kill someone and then throw the gun in the motel room next door. I’ve married men who might do that, but not him. You throw in the fact he’s got an insanely jealous woman who’s watching him—”
“Or two,” Becky muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Go on.”
“It’s much more likely he’s being deliberately framed.”
“You think his wife did it?”
“That’s one possibility.”
“What’s another?”
Cora pursed her lips. “Say you’re a lawyer with a limited practice struggling to make ends meet. Perhaps still paying off your college loans.”
“Have you been snooping through my mail?”
“Not you, goosey. Melvin’s lawyer. What’s-his-face. He’s handling an alimony dispute. Strictly small potatoes. Say he wound up killing one of the witnesses.”
Becky opened her mouth.
Cora put up her hand. “I know, I know. It makes no sense. There can be reasons in play we know nothing about. But take it as a premise: Lawyer kills witness.”
“So he frames his client?” Becky said. “I’m already taking it on faith he kills his own witness for no reason, now I’m taking it on faith he frames his own client?”
“Not at all. He’s got plenty of motive for that.”
“Such as?”
“First off, he doesn’t want to get caught. Self-preservation is always a motive. Second, it gets him work. That’s where the poor attorney making ends meet comes in. By framing his client, suddenly he’s an attorney in a murder case. With a big retainer and the whole schmear. And he’ll have a wonderful advantage over the prosecution going in, because he’ll know his client isn’t guilty. Any theory the prosecution comes up with will be false, so he won’t have a hard time poking holes in it.”
“You make a strong argument. Maybe I should frame you for a murder rap.”
Cora didn’t even bother to acknowledge the wisecrack. “And I wouldn’t trust that bimbo any farther than I can throw her.” She frowned. “Actually, I could probably throw the skinny bitch pretty far. But you know what I mean. Girl comes to me with a KenKen, all doe-eyed and ‘What am I to do?’ Well, you can let go of someone else’s husband for starters.”
Becky smiled. “Oh, yeah. You’re really over him.”
“Shut up.”
Chapter
38
Early next morning, Cora scrunched down in the front seat of her car and watched the motel with binoculars. She had no idea what she was going to do. Was that just because Melvin was involved? No. It was because nothing made sense of its own accord. It didn’t require the return of a former husband clouding her judgment. Not that Melvin was clouding her judgment. Oh, God, what was it that man had?
The door opened and Melvin’s wife came out. The current Mrs. Crabtree. Not the prospective Mrs. Crabtree. The potential Mrs. Crabtree. The Bimbo in Waiting. The Tramp Most Likely. No, this was the real McCoy. The scorned woman whom hell hath no fury like.
The woman pushed a zapper and the lights on the car in front of her unit flashed.
Where the hell was she going? Melvin and the bimbo were still in the love nest. At least, as far as Cora knew. What could be urgent enough to drive the stalker from their door?
Mrs. Crabtree came out of the parking lot and headed back toward town.
Cora hung a U-turn and followed.
Mrs. Crabtree parked in front of the library, got out, and crossed the street.
Cora’s pulse quickened.
Was she going back to the police station?
No. She went right on by.
And into Cushman’s Bake Shop.
Cora face fell.
The woman wasn’t hot on the trail of some new indiscretion of her wayward husband. She’d merely been seduced by the lure of the Silver Moon muffins that Mrs. Cushman passed off as her own. Cora had to admit they were damn good. She wished she had one now.
Melvin’s wife was out minutes later with a cup of coffee and a pastry bag. She got in her car and drove straight back to the motel.
The car in front of her husband’s unit was gone.
Mrs. Crabtree stood staring at the empty parking space.
Cora could understand the woman’s frustration. She’s gone fifteen minutes and the bird flies the coop. Tough luck, dearie. That’s how it is with surveillance jobs. You sit on a place twenty-four hours, nod off for a moment, and you’re screwed. Welcome to the club.
Mrs. Crabtree seemed torn between driving around to look for Melvin, and waiting for him to return. She chose the latter. Her car lights flashed as she zapped it locked. She opened the door to her motel unit and went in.
Cora had had it with surveillance herself. She drove up to the unit, parked beside Mrs. Crabtree’s car, and knocked on the door.
There came the sound of footsteps.
The door opened a crack.
A voice said, “Who is it?”
Cora put her shoulder into the door, pushed with all her might.
The door flew open.
Mrs. Crabt
ree went over backward and wound up in a heap on the floor.
Cora stepped into the unit, slammed the door shut.
“Let’s you and me have a little talk.”
The woman gaped up at her.
“I know, I know. I should say ‘you and I.’ After all, I’m the Puzzle Lady. But there’s no one here but us chickens. Or is it we chickens? Hell, I don’t care. The point is, things are gettin’ rough. The question is whether you have the stomach for it.”
Melvin’s wife struggled to a sitting position. “Get out of here!”
“That’s going to be your talking point? Not particularly helpful. So, did you get me a muffin?”
“Huh?”
“I’m partial to the blueberry ginger, but I also like the cranberry scones. Did you get me one at Cushman’s Bake Shop?”
“Are you following me?”
“Are you following Melvin?”
“Was he in the bakeshop?”
Cora smiled. “You’re quick on your feet. Or should I say, on your bottom? You’re not exactly on your feet, are you?”
The woman got to her knees, pushed up off the floor.
“I should warn you,” Cora said, “I’m a master of some martial art or other. I can tie you up like a pretzel.”
“I don’t want to fight you.”
“Glad to hear it. I was bluffing. So let’s talk. If you’re not going to throw me out physically, you don’t have much choice.”
“Why should I talk to you?”
“We have something in common. Wouldn’t you like to compare notes?”
“No, I would not.”
“That’s understandable. You’re still married to the guy. The wounds are fresh. But trust me. I’ve been there, done that. I could probably help you out.”
“What do you want?”
Cora reached in her purse for her cigarettes. “Do you smoke?”
“No.”
“Too bad. Anyone married to Melvin should have a hobby.” Cora held a match to her cigarette. “Any ashtrays around here?”
“This is a no-smoking room.”
“Just my luck.” Cora lit her cigarette, pulled over the wastebasket to use as an ashtray.
“Are you always this rude?”
“Absolutely not. When I married Melvin, I was sweet as could be. So, what’s your game, sweetie? You getting evidence for a divorce, or you want him back?”
“What makes you think I want him back?”
“So you do. You think you can beat the bimbo’s time?”
“Bambi?” She snorted. “The poor girl hasn’t got a clue.”
“Oh?”
“She’s just the flavor of the month. And not even this month, either.”
“Really? So who is?”
“You don’t know? She testified for him in court. At least, she tried to.”
Cora frowned. “The teller? Melvin hit on the teller?”
“He called on her in the bank and took her out to dinner.”
“You’re kidding! What did Little Miss Hotpants have to say about that.”
“She wasn’t here.”
“What?”
“She came up and joined him for the hearing.”
Cora put up her hand. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Melvin came up here first? She came up and joined him?”
“That’s right.”
“How’d she get here?”
“Huh?”
“If they came up separately, why don’t they have two cars?”
“She took a bus.”
“Oh?”
“He picked her up in Danbury.”
“When?”
“Day before the hearing.”
Cora frowned. “I’m confused again. He picked her up the day before the hearing. But she wasn’t here when he took the teller to dinner?”
“No, that was last week.”
“Last week!”
“Yeah. He came up early to ‘check out the witnesses.’ He tried to check out Lilly Clemson, all right.”
“Melvin’s been in town since last week?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you know?”
“How do you think?”
Cora frowned. “And all he did was romance the teller?”
“He didn’t romance her.”
“Whatever you want to call it. That’s all he did?”
“He also had a talk with the other witness.”
“What other witness?”
“The bank manager who testified.”
“The one who got killed?”
“Yeah.”
“Melvin had a talk with him?”
“That’s right.”
Cora had completely forgotten her cigarette. The ash was nearly two inches long. It fell to the floor. “Before or after he had dinner with the teller?”
“Both.”
“Huh?”
“He talked to him in the bank. Right after he talked to the teller. He went from her window to his desk. That night he took her to dinner.”
“Okay, that’s before. You say he also talked to the bank manager after he took the teller to dinner?”
“That’s right.”
“The next day?”
“No. After he testified.”
Cora’s mouth fell open. “Melvin talked to the bank manager the same day he testified?”
“You know Melvin. He’d want to review the guy’s performance.”
“He talked to him right after court?”
“No. He saw him later.”
“In the bank?”
“No.”
“Where did he see him?”
“In his house.”
Chapter
39
Melvin’s smile was smug. “I knew you’d be back.”
“I’m not back. I’m here because you’re in trouble and you’re too arrogant to know it.”
Melvin chuckled. “And you’re worried about me. That is so sweet.”
Cora flushed. “I’m not worried about you. No, I am worried about you. I’m worried you’ll get arrested for a crime you didn’t do, and the real killer will get away.”
“Worried is worried. I think it’s sweet.”
“Are you forgetting you taught me to shoot?”
“Probably a mistake. But you’re the one woman who took a shine to it.”
“Where’s Lolita?”
Cora had gone straight to Melvin’s unit after talking to his wife. She took a perverse pleasure in doing so. The current Mrs. Crabtree didn’t dare tag along for fear of letting Melvin know she was there.
“Bambi went shopping. You know women. They like to shop.”
“Good. Let’s talk turkey. You didn’t just get here the day of the trial. You’ve been around for a while. You took the teller out to dinner, saw the banker in his house. Seeing as how he got killed, that puts you in a rather precarious position.”
“How the hell do you know all that?”
Cora shook her head pityingly. “Were you present at our divorce hearing? Our very first one, way back when. All that stuff I had on you. You think I hired a detective to get it? Those guys wanna be paid. The point being I’m pretty good at finding things out. I know you came up here ahead of Bambi, nosed around, made a play for the teller. What in the world were you thinking? I mean, the testimony’s ice cold unless you make it look like it’s concocted. The only way you can do that is by messing with the witnesses. But you just can’t help running your game. You meet a halfway decent woman, you gotta turn on the charm. She buying it, by the way?”
“What do you care?”
“I don’t. Except we got a crime that makes no sense, and you managed to stick yourself smack dab in the middle of it. It’s a dreadful situation. Left alone, the police will take your actions at face value and arrest you for murder. And guess what? Becky Baldwin can’t represent you, she’s representing me. Which leaves you with that two-bit ambulance-chasing divorce lawyer, or shelling out an astronomical sum to hire some big-time defense at
torney from New York. Either way, I wouldn’t like to be you.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Oh, yeah? Ignore what I’m saying, keep on what you’re doing, and when they read you your rights, think before you talk.”
“You really do care about me.”
“I don’t want you in jail doing time. I want you footloose and fancy free, chasing women and paying the alimony you’re still going to owe me when I win the legal suit.”
“What are you talking about? You’re using a lot of words to say the simplest thing. That’s what you used to do when you were flustered.” He grinned. “Not just flustered. Hot and bothered. Remember?”
“No.”
Melvin laughed. “Well, there’s an overreaction. You’re gonna give me one-word answers to prove you’re not turned on?”
“You’re despicable, you know it.”
“Ah. A compromise.” Melvin cocked his head. “Wanna grab some lunch?”
“What about Bambi?”
“She can take care of herself.”
“I was sure that was your attitude. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“Shall we go?”
“You must be kidding.”
“He, I’m a lot of things, but a kidder isn’t one of them. You wanna go out with me?”
Cora took a breath. “No, Melvin. I don’t want to go out with you. I just want to tell you where you stand. Right now you’re an excellent candidate for a murder rap. I just hope they don’t arrest you before you lose the alimony suit.”
“I’m not going to lose the alimony suit.”
“Sure you are. The witness blew up on the stand, couldn’t ID the check. I don’t think the shyster you hired has the guns to repair the damage.”
Melvin scowled. “You let me worry about that.”
“I certainly will. Not that it’s going to matter. You might as well go home. If you go back to New York before anyone thinks to arrest you, you can fight extradition.” Cora’s smile was mocking. “If you stall long enough, maybe I can solve the crime before the Connecticut authorities manage to bring you back.”
Cora got in the car and drove home. She was angry at herself for letting Melvin get to her. He’d done it so easily, too, with just the slightest innuendo and an offer of lunch. Rattled her completely. Maybe she could solve the crime, hell. Talk about whistling in the dark.
