Murder Breaks the Bank

by Maddie Cochere

  More ooey-gooey, lovey-dovey feelings for Glenn overcame me. “She told us what you said about Oscar not knowing what hit him and that he was in heaven in an instant. Your words meant a lot to her, and she’s been holding onto them.”

  A slight blush came into his face. “I was just trying to help. I saw all the religious knickknacks she had in the living room, so I figured she believed in heaven. I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.”

  “That’s not true and you know it. Officer Collins wouldn’t have done anything more than deliver the news at the door and walk away.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said, apparently uncomfortable with the direction our conversation was taking.

  I brought us back to the case. “I know Hugh Oakes all but confessed to the murder, but something still doesn’t feel right.”

  “How can something not feel right? There isn’t any other possible explanation. Oakes was the only person who could pull this off. He accidentally killed Preston when he was aiming for Rich. He’s going down for this, Jo.”

  “But there’s no proof. You can’t convict a man without proof.”

  “You know full well you can. It’s called circumstantial evidence.”

  “But what if he’s innocent?”

  “I don’t want an innocent man to go to jail any more than you do, but a jury will look at the evidence and convict him. There are plenty of innocent people in jail for circumstantial evidence.”

  Thinking aloud to myself, I said softly, “Arnie thinks Hugh Oakes is innocent.”

  “Why does he think that?”

  “He said if I don’t figure it out on my own, he’ll tell me on Monday.”

  Glenn half smiled and glanced at his watch. “I’m going upstairs to tackle the bathrooms. Ohio State is playing this afternoon, and I want to be finished before then.”

  “I’ll watch with you. I can fold laundry while we watch.”

  He nodded his approval and turned to head for the stairs. “Let me know if you have any breakthroughs.”

  Humph. Breakthroughs. Not likely. I knew there was something I was missing, but I couldn’t see it. I stared at the whiteboard harder and contemplated every piece of information. A flicker of something important began to form in my mind, and I knew it had to do with the missing signature cards. Before the thought could fully form, my cell phone rang in my pocket.

  It was Mama.

  “You got that comedy routine down yet?” I asked.

  “With Roger, Pepper, Keith, Jackie, and Arnie reminding me of the crazy things you’ve done in your life, I have enough material for a week of routines.”

  No one was around to see, but my eyes bugged out of my head an inch or more. “Me?” I squealed into the phone. “If you so much as mention my name on stage, I’ll come up there and strangle you with my bare hands.” I hesitated a moment. “Not that I don’t love you, and I don’t want to murder you … but I will if I have to.”

  She laughed. “Oh, don’t go gettin’ your bloomers in a twist. I was just having fun with you. You left in a hurry, and I didn’t get to tell you what Roger heard in the loo.”

  “Since when do you call a bathroom the loo? That’s a British term.”

  “It sounds more civilized, don’t you think? No one takes a bath at the flea market, so it’s not a bathroom, and no one goes in there to rest, so it’s not a restroom. It’s a loo, which means toilet, and that’s what people do. They go to the toilet, but no one wants to say, ‘Hey, I’m going to the toilet, come with me.’ That’s just weird. Especially when a number two is involved. And who came up with numbering the toilet system anyway?”

  Good grief. Mama was working on her comedy routine and using me as a guinea pig. “Not funny, Mama.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny. You’re the one who asked. Do you want my lead or not?”

  I sighed and grabbed a pen and paper from my desk. “Give it to me.”

  “Ok. So … Roger is sitting in the loo when he hears the door open and more than one person walks in. He puts his feet up against the door. You know, in case someone looks under to check to see if anyone is in the stall. It was Burrito Day in the Emporium. You could buy my homemade burritos for ninety-nine cents each, but of course, Roger gets them for free seeing as he and I are an item.”

  I rolled my eyes but held my tongue.

  Mama continued. “He had four burritos, maybe six, so he’s in there hoping he doesn’t get the burrito farts and give himself away.”

  “TMI, Mama. TMI.”

  “If you want the story, stop interrupting and let me tell it my way.”

  I sighed again. “Go on.”

  “So, Roger’s trying to be quiet, and he says it’s three guys who walked in, and they’re happy about the cast iron frying pans they just bought for their fraternity house.” She paused for a few seconds. “I made twenty bucks profit on the sale. They bought a vintage lava lamp, too.”

  She stopped talking altogether. I assumed she was calculating her profit on the lava lamp. I waited until she was satisfied with her mental calculations.

  “Anyway, one of them says the initiation was really rough, and he’s glad buying the skillets is the last thing they have to do. One of the other guys says he’s glad, too, and the brick business almost made him not want to pledge. Then the third guy says something like, ‘Yeah, but we didn’t get caught, and can you believe it, we’re going to be in Signa Delta Apple Pie. The coolest fraternity on campus.”

  I didn’t mean to sigh again, but I did. “There’s no such thing as Signa Delta Apple Pie,” I said. “And did these guys say which college? Can you ask Roger to try harder to remember the actual name of the fraternity?”

  Mama made noises of disgust on her end of the line. “Roger’s not stupid. He got the name right. He had a pencil in his pocket, so he wrote the name of the fraternity down on toilet paper as soon as he heard them say it. I have the toilet paper in my hand right now. Go find the fraternity and catch the guys who were throwing the bricks. The Blue Hat Society wants a twenty-five percent fee from the reward money for giving you the lead. Thank you very much.”

  It was going to take weeks, maybe months, before the image of Roger in the loo and Mama holding his toilet paper could be erased from my mind. Or at least shoved back far enough that it wouldn’t come up very often.

  “There’s no reward money, Mama. No one offered a reward for catching whoever is throwing the bricks.”

  “How can you be a private investigator and not be up to date on current events? It was in the newspaper yesterday. The Buxley Police Department offered a reward to anyone with information leading to an arrest. I suppose you never made it past the front page and that flattering picture of yourself.”

  “Thanks for the tip. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I hung up before she could say anything more but not before I heard her laughing. It was going to be a long time before I could live the picture down - at least with my family. I really should look into suing Nick for something. Maybe defamation of character.

  I dialed Jackie’s number. She must have had her phone in hand, because she answered on the first ring.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “I’m still at the flea market. I’m looking up prices for vintage fishing lures. Holy smokes, these things can go for big money.”

  “Did Mama mention the tip she got from Roger when he was in the loo?”

  I heard her chuckle. “Not yet. Other than corralling Pepper and me to tell her stories about you, I haven’t been over to the snack bar to chat with her.”

  Her comedy routine! The next time I talked with her, I was going to threaten to sue her if she used my name in her routine. Matt Ryder would have his hands full with my lawsuits.

  “She gave me a hot tip on the brick bandits,” I said. “She thinks they’re fraternity pledges from Signa Delta Apple Pie. I told her that wasn’t a legitimate name for a fraternity.”

  “Actually, it is. They’re ove
r at the community college in Patterson.”

  “Signa Delta Apple Pie is a real fraternity?”

  “Yes and no. There aren’t any sororities or fraternities at the community college, so last year, some of the junior class members rented four houses near campus, and they’ve created mock fraternities with odd names. Signa Delta Apple Pie seems to be the one everyone wants to get into. It’s also the one the police have visited most often and the one the neighborhood is trying to shut down. Didn’t you read the article I wrote about them six months ago?”

  I definitely needed to renew our subscription to the Beacon. I’d make more of an effort to read the paper every day and remember what I read. If I had read her article six months ago, it wouldn’t have seemed important to me, and I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Since my work depended upon my remembering facts and details, I also made a mental note to look into memory classes. I really needed to strengthen my memory.

  “I probably read your article,” I said, “but sometimes my brain is like a sieve. If the fraternity members are behind the car vandalism, I would think it would be easy to shut them down.”

  “Shall we pay a visit to the fine young men of Signa Delta Apple Pie?” Jackie asked. “I think they’ll remember me from when I was there last spring.”

  I heard Pepper yell in the background, “I’m coming, too.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Glenn is watching football all afternoon, so I can get away without feeling like I’ve abandoned him on his day off.”

  “We’ll pick you up in half an hour,” Jackie said.

  I threw the load of laundry in the dryer and returned to my whiteboard. I didn’t even have to ponder the information. It was as if a curtain had been thrown back, and I knew what Arnie was talking about.

  Hugh Oakes couldn’t have stolen the cards after he planted the bomb. Benny would have known they were missing right away. He also didn’t need to steal the cards. There would be no record of him being in the box. But the biggest reason Hugh Oakes was probably innocent was that he wouldn’t have been able to open the box at all. The bank only had one key and two keys were necessary to open the box. They weren’t identical keys, so making a copy from the bank’s key was useless. Hugh Oakes wouldn’t have access to the two necessary keys.

  What I needed to do next was talk to Benny. I wanted to jog his memory about the visitors to Ellis Rich’s box. He would also be able to confirm if Ellis was in the box after Jerome Conner.

  The gunshot was still a problem though. No one working at the bank would have a reason to shoot at Oscar. He didn’t bank there. Ellis Rich knew Oscar had a power of attorney to open his box, so if Oscar was blackmailing him, Ellis could have easily had him followed to the bank and attempted the murder before he ever entered the bank.

  Now that was a solid theory. Would Ellis himself have shot at Oscar? That might explain why he missed his mark. On the other hand, maybe it was the handsome Ken who fired the bullet that had my truck in the police impound lot. And when was I going to get it back anyway? I’d ask Glenn on my way out.

  I made a note on the board and circled it in red: Oscar blackmailing Ellis. Ken followed Oscar to bank and shot at him.

  Satisfied with my progress, and convinced of Hugh Oakes’ innocence, I headed upstairs to change clothes. Jackie and Pepper would be here shortly.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Pepper said, turning to me with a hopeful look in her eye. “Don’t you think it’s a wonderful idea, Jo?”

  We were sitting in the living room of Signa Delta Apple Pie. The apple pie Jackie brought had already been consumed by four guys who each had the name of Richard. I knew full well they weren’t each named Richard, but they were sticking to their story.

  The twelve year old in Pepper giggled uncontrollably for a few minutes when they proudly referred to themselves as four Dicks.

  Pepper hadn’t bothered to change her clothes or remove her wig when she left the flea market. She still looked like a hippie from the sixties. Jackie, of course, looked smashing in a soft red sweater and skintight jeans. I had pulled on comfortable, not skintight jeans, a long-sleeved black t-shirt, and my favorite short black leather jacket. Not wanting to mess with my hair, I had pulled it into a ponytail.

  Dick Number One looked at the Two Sisters and a Journalist movie poster business card Pepper handed to him and said, “You guys have some gig going here. I’m majoring in filmmaking, and I think you three would make a great reality documentary movie. I’d like to shoot you in action for a few weeks.”

  His words were what had prompted Pepper to gush over what a wonderful idea it was. There was no way I was letting a frat boy follow me around for a day let alone a few weeks. My first instinct was to dash her hopes forcibly and loudly with blunt words, but I caught myself in time. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her feelings again, especially in front of strangers.

  When we first arrived, Jackie had taken the lead and said she was there following up on her earlier story. She explained the presence of Pepper and me by saying we were meeting with a new client after we left the fraternity.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” I said.

  Pepper’s mouth dropped open. “You do?”

  “I do, and I think we should start right now. Go get your camera,” I said to Dick Number One.

  Dick Number Two picked up the empty pie pan and began licking crumbs and bits of cooked apple directly from the foil. “No can do,” he said. “Ohio State plays today. The rest of the guys will be back by then, and we’re watching the game. No girls allowed.”

  “Let me guess,” said Pepper. “They’re all Dick’s, too.”

  She couldn’t control more giggling when Dick Number Two responded, “Of course.” He looked around at the other three guys and said, “Maybe we should have named this Signa Dickta Apple Pie.”

  I rolled my eyes. I don’t know what I was expecting the guys to be like, but I didn’t expect them to be so juvenile.

  “The game doesn’t start until three,” I said. “We have plenty of time to do a test run.”

  Dick Number One pulled his cell phone from his pocket and fiddled with it before holding it up and making a sweeping motion toward Pepper, Jackie, and me.

  “The fourteenth of November,” he said. “First take with Two Sisters and a Journalist. One sister is a love child, the other sister is a biker chick, and the journalist is a wannabe movie star bombshell waiting for her big break. This could be it.”

  Jackie laughed at his words. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’ve never wanted to be a movie star.”

  Dick Number Three had appeared to fall into a pie coma. He cracked one eye open and said, “You should. You’d be huge.”

  Dick Number One went back to sweeping his phone back and forth in front of us. “As interesting as they are one on one, together they form the premiere detective agency, Two Sisters and a Journalist.”

  “I don’t know about premiere,” I said under my breath and with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

  “How did you come up with the name?” he asked.

  “If I recall,” I said, “we were drinking. It might not have been the optimal choice of names.”

  “We were doing no such thing,” Pepper said. “We were having lunch, and you didn’t like anything Jackie and I suggested, and we suggested some good names if I say so myself.”

  Dick Number Four finally looked up from texting on his phone and asked, “Like what?”

  “Like Pepper and Juniors,” Pepper said.

  “And The JoJack Pepper Agency,” Jackie added.

  I shrugged. “But I was the one who was starting the business, and when I mentioned how much fun it would be to work with my sister and my journalist friend, the name felt right at the time.”

  Dick Number One stopped recording. “Duly noted.”

  Pepper shot her own eye daggers at me this time. “The name still feels right.”

  I ignored her. The argument over
our name could come later. “Why are you using your phone to record?” I asked. “Don’t you have to use professional equipment for a documentary?”

  He shook his head. “Not with today’s phones. Mine’s the best there is right now. I can shoot video, upload it to the internet, and the quality is as good if not better than someone who uses expensive equipment. You’ll see.”

  The thought of being on the internet made my stomach flop. I’d already had enough unflattering notoriety with the front page mug shot in the Beacon. I was hoping the filming wouldn’t go very far.

  “Jo’s found at least a dozen dead bodies,” Pepper said excitedly. “She has a knack for that sort of thing, so I hope you guys don’t have any dead bodies around here.” Her eyes lit up. “Hey, could you give us a tour? I’ve never been in a fraternity house before.”

  Dick Number One didn’t appear impressed with my discoveries and didn’t ask any follow-up questions. “Dick, show the ladies around,” he said.

  Dick Number Two jumped up and said, “Follow me.”

  How did Dick Number Two know Dick Number One was talking to him? Why didn’t Dick Number Three or Dick Number Four respond to his request to show us around?

  “I had the tour when I was here in April,” Jackie said, smiling brightly at Dick Number Two. “Make sure you point out any changes or improvements since then, so I can include them in my story.”

  “We should start in the kitchen then,” he said. “Dick took cooking classes over the summer, so we’ve been remodeling and adding better equipment when we can. The food here is restaurant quality now. That’s one of the reasons we have so many guys wanting to pledge. ”

  “What would he make for a typical lunch?” Jackie asked, pen poised to write.

  “Yesterday’s a perfect example,” he said. “We had chili so hot, it made your hair sweat. We poured it over hot dogs injected with jalapeno pickle relish, and Dick treated the tater tots with ghost pepper cheese. The methane in here last night would have made a herd of cows proud.”

  Pepper giggled, and Jackie smiled broadly as if he had just said the funniest thing ever.