by Parnell Hall
“Yes. Why?”
“Because the front door is not damaged. There are two possibilities. Your wife let the killer in. Or the killer broke in through the back. We must see which is true.”
Minami swept through the pantry to the back door. It had a top lock with a sliding bolt. “You keep this locked?”
“Yes, I keep it locked. It is locked now; it was locked then.”
Minami unlocked the back door, inspected the lock on the knob. “There are no signs of forced entry. If the killer got in this way, it was because the door was open.”
“Well, it wasn’t.”
“You did not leave it open. You cannot speak for your wife.”
Along one wall of the pantry was a freezer chest. Minami lifted the lid and peered in. “You do not have much food.”
“So what?”
“Such a big freezer. And you have only boxes of frozen peas.” Minami leaned over, inspected the bottom. “What is that?”
“What?”
In the frost built up in the bottom of the freezer was a reddish stain. “That looks like blood.”
Jason shrugged. “Some meat leaked.”
“You have no meat.”
“I have no meat now. I had it. It leaked. I ate it. Big deal.”
“Then why is there none? If you keep meat in the freezer to eat, why do you not have any?”
“It’s out of season.”
“What?”
“Deer-hunting season.” Jason sounded exasperated. “In deer-hunting season, I fill the freezer with meat. When the meat is gone, I don’t use the freezer until next season. Are you satisfied? Is that enough for you?”
“You hunt the deer?”
“Yes.”
“In hunting season?”
“Yes.”
“You have a gun?”
“I have a rifle.”
“Let me see.”
“No.”
“Do the police know you have a gun?”
Jason said nothing.
“If you do not show me the gun, then I must tell the police that you have a gun that you do not wish to show. They will want to see it and—”
“All right, all right.”
Jason led them to a hall closet under the stairs. He reached behind a set of golf clubs and pulled out a rifle. “There. You satisfied?”
“Let me see.” Minami grabbed the rifle, raised the barrel to her nose, sniffed. “This rifle has been fired.”
“Of course it’s been fired. I use it to hunt.”
“It has been fired recently.”
“No. I …”
“What?”
“I do some target practice. Down at the dump.”
“They let you shoot at the dump?”
“No. Sunday. When the dump is closed. What difference does it make? My wife wasn’t shot.”
“You are sure of that?”
Jason wasn’t sure of anything. His head was coming off. Everything the crazy Japanese lady said seemed to make things worse and worse. Maybe he shouldn’t be talking to her. Maybe it wasn’t just the police. She was the one who said it was all right. What would his lawyer say? Did he have a lawyer? Was that part real? He fished in his pocket, came out with Becky Baldwin’s business card.
Jason marched into the living room, picked up the phone.
“What are you doing?” Minami said.
“Calling my lawyer.”
Michiko’s eyes twinkled. “Hah!”
“Well, we must be going,” Minami said, and herded her smiling niece out the door.
Chapter 15
Cora was looking through the real estate section in the morning paper. It wasn’t a huge task. In a town the size of Bakerhaven, the real estate section was half a page. Nothing seemed appropriate. Everything was either a room in someone’s house or a building the size of a college dorm. Or a summer rental while the family went to Europe. No small cottage with modest heat and electric bills suitable for single occupancy.
The only alternative was to get her New York apartment back. The couple who sublet would be shocked after so many years to suddenly find themselves evicted, especially with the rents Manhattan apartments were commanding these days. Cora hated to do it. She had a heart of gold. On the other hand, maybe she should raise the rent.
Cora folded the paper and threw it on the coffee table. The red envelope was lying there. Cora pulled out the sudoku from Minami. The girl said it was hard. It looked challenging, but Cora was good at sudoku. She picked up a pencil, went to work.
It took her nearly fifteen minutes.
Cora scanned the answer to make sure she was right. That was the only problem with the damn things. If you were sloppy and didn’t watch out, you might wind up with two sevens in the same line.
The phone rang.
Cora picked it up in the kitchen.
It was Chief Harper. “Better get in here.”
Cora padded down the hall to the office where Sherry was working on a crossword. “I gotta go to town.”
“Damn. I’m almost finished with this puzzle.”
“So, stay here.”
“I need the car. I’ll have to drop you off and come back.”
They headed for town, Sherry driving.
“When I move out, you’ll have to get your own car.”
“I can use Aaron’s.”
“Then you’d have to drive him to work.”
“Oh. I guess you better stay.”
“For a car? That’s a dumb reason.”
“What’s Harper want?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t sound happy.”
“It’s the economy,” Sherry said. “No one’s happy these days.”
“Tell me about it.”
Sherry pulled up in front of the police station. “How long you gonna be?”
“I have no idea. Why don’t you come on in?”
“What if Chief Harper doesn’t like it?”
“Then you’ll leave.”
Dan Finley was at his desk.
“Chief wants to see me,” Cora said.
“Yeah, I heard.”
“You know what he wants?”
“I think he needs rescuing.”
Cora raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”
“See for yourself.”
Cora and Sherry slipped into the office. Chief Harper sat behind his desk. He looked harried.
Minami, in full regalia, sat opposite. Her niece, slumped in a chair next to her, looked bored.
On the other side of Minami sat a man in a custom-tailored three-piece suit, a pink shirt, and a purple tie. Cora’s eyes practically crossed. She had to refocus them to look at his face. It was pudgy and thin at the same time, a remarkable achievement. Puffy eyes, bulbous lips, but sunken cheeks. He looked like something out of a forties’ monster movie. Only they were in black and white.
Cora jerked her thumb. “Who’s he?”
The man was on his feet, smiling grotesquely and extending a hand. “Irving Swartzman,” he said. It was a pronouncement. “I represent the Sudoku Lady.”
Cora frowned at Minami. “You brought a lawyer?”
“He is not my lawyer.”
“Of course not. I am her agent. I am here to represent her rights.”
“Rights? What rights?”
Michiko rolled her eyes. “This is really stupid.”
“So,” Cora said, “you brought your niece and your agent. That’s hardly fair. My niece is my agent. It’s three against two.”
Chief Harper put up his hands. “Please. I have a small problem here. We have the matter of Ida Fielding’s death. I would like to clear it up as quickly and quietly as possible. This man, on the other hand, would like to exploit it.”
Swartzman’s eyes widened. The effect was eerie. “Did I say that? I merely said that credit should be given where credit’s due. If the Sudoku Lady has solved a crime that otherwise would have gone unnoticed, that’s a story. You can’t expect me to ignore it.”
“Wait a
minute,” Cora said. “What do you mean, ‘solved a crime’?”
Chief Harper cleared his throat. “Miss, ah, Minami has made some rather disturbing allegations.”
“Oh?”
“I want to check them out before I take any action. Particularly since the medical examiner has ruled Mrs. Fielding’s death accidental.”
“It wasn’t?” Cora said.
“Minami disputes that finding. She has some evidence which leads her to believe—”
“Evidence? Where did she get evidence?”
Harper sighed. “Why don’t we let her tell it?”
Minami smiled. “Mrs. Fielding was murdered. Everything points to it. The husband appears to have an alibi. But does he? His alibi is too good to be true. It is perfect. It is, how do you say, dressed in iron.”
“Ironclad. Yes, he does,” Cora said. “It is not because he is guilty. It is because he is innocent.”
“So, I ask around. Is the husband having an affair? That would be a strong motive. Alas, he is not. Is the wife having an affair? Here we have ground that is more fertile. Mrs. Fielding had no job. What is she doing while the husband is at work?”
“Someone comes to the house?” Cora said.
“No. That would not be discreet. The neighbors would see. No one comes to the house. Mrs. Fielding goes out.”
“That’s all you’ve got?” Cora scoffed. “I go out in the afternoon. Does that mean I’m having an affair? I wish. I go shopping. Run errands. Just like everyone else.”
Minami conceded the point. “Of course, there could be a logical explanation. Or there could not.”
“Come on,” Harper said, “tell her what you told me.”
“Ah. Mr. Fielding has, in his pantry, a freezer cabinet. Long and deep. With a lid that lifts. It is nearly empty. In the bottom there is blood.”
“So?”
“Minami thinks the body was put in the deep freeze to alter the time of death,” Harper said. “On the basis of the blood and the fact that there’s room for a body because the freezer was nearly empty.”
“That’s very interesting,” Cora said. “Stupid but interesting.”
“Ah!” Minami smiled. “You mean to insult me. But I forgive you. You are unhappy you did not think of it first.”
“The only one unhappy is the chief. Have you investigated this claim?”
“That’s a problem,” Harper said.
“No kidding. This is an accidental death. The only evidence you have is blood in the freezer. You can’t even prove it’s human blood. To do that, you’d have to test it. You have to get a warrant. You can’t get a warrant unless it’s a crime. If it’s a crime, you gotta advise Mr. Fielding of his rights, and then Becky Baldwin’s involved, and it’s gonna take an act of God to get that warrant.”
“If the blood is from a deer, the husband has nothing to hide.”
“Tell it to his lawyer. She doesn’t know the blood’s from a deer. She only knows what he tells her. What if he’s lying?”
“It is not smart to lie to your lawyer.”
“Criminals are not always smart,” Cora said dryly. “The point is, no lawyer in her right mind is ever going to let you test that blood. So you are in an extremely unpromising no-win situation.” She frowned. “Which I suppose is the only kind. Or is there such thing as a promising no-win situation?”
Harper grimaced, rubbed his forehead. “Please. I’m the one in a no-win situation. I went to work this morning—everything was fine. Suddenly my nicely tied up accidental death, the one I just shoved the paperwork for into a file marked CLOSED, is back on the table, and worse than ever. How in the world do I get out of this?”
Irving Swartzman smiled snidely. “My client is extremely sorry to make trouble. In her country, the police do not object to doing their job.”
Harper opened his mouth, closed it again, and snorted, not unlike, Cora noted, a fire-breathing dragon.
“Hang on, Chief. I got this one.” Cora cocked her head at Minami. “Say we do the test and it’s human blood. You say that proves Mrs. Fielding was in the freezer chest. But is that more likely than that it’s blood from where Jason cut himself carving up a deer?”
Minami smiled. “A DNA test—”
“Now you want a DNA test?” Harper was fit to be tied.
Cora put up her hand. “No one’s testing anything. We’re talking hypothetically here. Say it’s human blood. Hypothetically. It’s hypothetical human blood. Say it’s the wife’s blood. Say it proves the wife didn’t just happen to bleed in the freezer; she was actually in the freezer. You claim that was done to alter the time of death?”
“Of course.”
“Which would be invaluable because the husband was in jail, giving him a perfect alibi. That’s all well and good.” Cora shrugged. “One small problem. Putting the body in the freezer chest lowers the body temperature. It makes the time of death appear earlier than it actually was. If Jason killed his wife, put the body in the freezer for an hour, then set the stage and got arrested, it wouldn’t make it appear the crime happened while he was in jail. It would make it appear the crime happened well before he was in jail. It would, in fact, make his alibi worthless. To make it appear she was killed while he was in jail, he’d have to find a way to raise her body temperature.”
Harper frowned. “That’s right.” He smiled. “Hey, that’s right. Altering the time of death couldn’t possibly help him.”
“The only way it would work,” Cora said, “was if he got out of jail, went home, killed his wife, stuck her in the freezer for an hour, pulled her out, and pretended to discover the body. The lower body temperature would make it seem like she was killed while he was still in jail. But that didn’t happen here. The guy was still in jail when the body was found. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, it is.” Harper raised his voice. “Dan!”
The young officer stuck his head in the door. “Chief?”
“Jason never went home, did he? He was in jail from the time he was arrested in the bar until we told him his wife was dead?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just double-checking. Thanks, Dan.”
Finley went out, closed the door.
“So,” Harper said, “that should put an end to that.”
Michiko yawned sullenly. “Can we go now?”
Minami’s nose was in the air. “Not at all. Miss Felton has shown how it could not work in one particular way. That does not mean it could not work in another way.”
Harper groaned. “Oh, come on.”
“What other way?” Cora said.
“Mrs. Fielding has a lover. He is married. He wishes to break off the affair. Mrs. Fielding will not let him. She threatens to tell his wife if he does not stay with her. He cannot have that. What is he to do? He is like the man in the movie. The American movie. Where the man has an affair with the woman and she will not let him go because she is not right in the head.”
“Michael Douglas and Glenn Close. Fatal Attraction,” Michiko prompted impatiently.
“Yes, it is like Fatal Attraction. Mrs. Fielding will not let go of this man. But it is not a movie. He is not the hero, the star, the good man in the movie. He is a bad man. If the woman will not let him free, he will free himself of her. What does he do? He sees the husband drinking in a bar. The husband is drunk, gets into a fight. Perhaps he even helps to start the fight. The husband is arrested. The lover makes sure the husband is in prison, then goes to see the wife. He kills her, puts her body in the freezer for an hour. Sets the scene and leaves the house. The time of death is changed. It will look like the husband killed his wife, went to the bar and got arrested so he will have an alibi for the time she is killed. He was too stupid to know the medical examiner could tell the time of death.”
Cora shook her head. “That’s convoluted, even for me.”
“It is fantastic, yes? And yet it works. If the police think it is an accidental death, that is fine. If the police believe it is a murder, the person
with the opportunity is the husband, not the lover. It is the perfect crime.”
Chief Harper said, “Cora?”
“Yes?”
“What about it?”
“What about it? That is the most ridiculous, farfetched, double-think I ever heard. The idea a person would do such a thing. It defies credulity. It is the type of plot that when I read it in a book—”
“I know, I know, you throw the damn thing across the room. But would it work?”
Cora nearly gagged. “Yes, it could work. And walking around Times Square in a signboard WILL MARRY RICH MAN FOR CASH could work, too, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to try it. The likelihood of such an occurrence is so remote—”
“But it could work?”
Cora’s mouth snapped shut. She gawked at the chief in helpless frustration.
Irving Swartzman hopped to his feet. “Excellent! Our work here is done. Come, ladies. Let’s leave the police chief to his job.” The agent smirked. “Now that he knows what it is.”
Minami marched proudly out of the office, her niece trailing insolently along behind her.
Chapter 16
“Technically you won,” Sherry pointed out.
Cora sat sulking in the passenger seat. “In what way did I win?”
“Well, she said Jason killed his wife. You said he didn’t. It would appear she was wrong and you were right.”
“I said it was an accident. I didn’t say she was killed by someone else.”
“Neither of you did. It was a straightforward bet. She bet she could prove he did it. You bet you could prove he didn’t. She proved he didn’t. Therefore she failed to prove he did. Therefore you win.”
“Is that like a Pyrrhic victory?”
“What do you know about Pyrrhic victories?”
“They’re not as good as real ones.”
“Cora …”
“That arrogant, insufferable, kimono-wearing woman. I can’t say that. It sounds racist. That arrogant, insufferable, sudoku-making woman.”
“That could describe you. Good thing you’re not arrogant and insufferable.”
“Oh, nasty girl. When you were single, you didn’t have such a lip.”
“I’m trying to jolt you out of your self-induced doldrums into the real world.”
