You Have the Right to Remain Puzzled

by Parnell Hall

  5 “__ Frutti” (Little Richard song)

  10 Erie Canal mule

  13 African lilies

  15 Reaction to, “Pick a cod, any

  cod”

  16 “¿___ pasa?”

  17 Start of a message

  19 Beehive State athlete

  20 Polo or Garr

  21 It’s under foot

  22 Feel poorly

  23 Classic Ford model

  26 Threatening sentence-ender

  28 TV broadcast band

  29 Message part 2

  32 Synthesizer inventor

  34 Gets bored with

  35 Bio by Molly Ivins

  37 Have a couple of eggs?

  38 Xerox competitor

  42 “I’m OK with it”

  45 Iditarod race place

  46 Message part 3

  50 Links number

  51 All told

  52 Falls in New York

  54 “___ whillikers!”

  55 Till bills

  58 Hoofbeat sound

  59 Easy mark

  60 End of message

  64 Cobra kin

  65 Bungled play

  66 Streamlined

  67 Fourth of July?

  68 Oceans, in poetry

  69 Connecticut campus

  DOWN

  1 Mai ___

  2 Long in the tooth

  3 Is a fan

  4 Basic belief

  5 ___ Friday’s (restaurant chain)

  6 Big coffee containers

  7 Brouhaha

  8 Makes fit

  9 Lower-ranking

  10 Violent gust of wind

  11 Pediatric mental disorder

  12 Actress Sobieski

  14 Lamb, at large

  18 North Dakota city

  23 ___ the word

  24 “Oops!”

  25 Jury verdict

  27 Small and lively

  30 Garbage

  31 “Yo, dude!”

  33 Enthusiasm

  36 Closed, as a sports jacket

  39 Confess to less

  40 “The Mod Squad” costar Epps

  41 Juno, to Greeks

  43 Mined over matter?

  44 Cager Strickland or Dampier

  46 Puzzle cutter-upper

  47 On edge

  48 Treeless tract

  49 Some surrealistic paintings

  53 “Holy smokes!”

  56 “To be,” to Henri

  57 “Cut it out!”

  61 Surgery sites, briefly

  62 Brooks of “Blazing Saddles”

  63 Barely manage, with “out”

  “That’s entirely possible, Harvey.” Cora stood up, prompting Harvey to do the same. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Here’s what you should do. You should go home, take a look at the clock. Try to imagine where you were when I brought you the chairs. What angle you might have seen the clock from. Remember, you wouldn’t be paying much attention to the clock, because, after all, you were excited about getting the chairs back.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Excellent, Harvey. Go home now, think it over. Because the last thing in the world you want to do is tell the police something you’re going to be cross-examined on in court. And then some snide defense lawyer’s gonna ask you how you know for sure. If that defense attorney’s got blond hair, long legs, and a skintight sweater, she may make you jump through hoops.”

  Harvey’s eyes were wide. “But. . . but. . .”

  “Go home, take a good look at the clock, and search your memory. Because you don’t want to be that type of witness who’s so sure of himself he trips over his own feet.”

  Cora winked, pushed him out the door.

  Harvey pointed. “What about them?”

  The news vans were still parked at the foot of the drive.

  “You didn’t talk to them on your way in, did you, Harvey?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re not going to talk to ’em now. If they try to stop you, keep on going. It’ll be harder, because they’ll wanna know what we said. Ignore them. Pay no attention. Just keep on driving. Run over a few of them if you can.”

  Harvey looked aghast. “But—”

  “Attaboy.” Cora clapped him on the shoulder, banged the door shut.

  Aaron Grant spread his arms. “Well, there’s my story.”

  “You wouldn’t write that,” Sherry said. “Cora, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Harvey’s mistaken. I brought him the chairs at three-thirty.”

  “There’s no chance you’re mistaken?”

  “Sure there is. That’s not the point. I gotta give myself a little wiggle room. The guy was killed between twelve and four. Even stealing the chairs at three-thirty’s cutting it close. Four-thirty fries my fanny.”

  “Why?” Sherry said. “You didn’t have to take ’em straight to Harvey. You could have come home first.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t.”

  “But they don’t know that.”

  “Yes they do. That’s what I told the police.”

  “You talked to the police?”

  “Just Chief Harper.”

  “Does Becky know?”

  “It was off the record.”

  “You guys do know I’m sitting here?” Aaron said.

  “You’re not writing this, Aaron.”

  “Of course I’m not writing this. People would think I was a gibbering idiot. Let’s nail down what I’m not writing. Cora, is it my understanding that you’re trying to get Harvey to change his testimony about when you delivered the chairs because if he doesn’t it’s going to make you look guilty?”

  “Look guilty? No. If he doesn’t change his story, I am guilty. I have a little problem, Aaron. I told Chief Harper I picked up the chairs and took ’em straight to Harvey. I also told him the body wasn’t there. Well, if the body wasn’t there by four-thirty, I am out-and-out lying, because the guy was dead before four o’clock. And it’s not like he could have been shot somewhere else and been brought to the motel, because the gun was there, and hadn’t been fired yet.”

  “Did you tell that to Chief Harper?”

  “Off the record. If those are the facts, I must have done it. It’s even got me convinced.”

  “So Harvey must be wrong,” Aaron said.

  “Thank you!” Cora said. “Finally! Someone taking me at my word and stating the obvious. That’s right. I! Didn’t! Do it! So any'one proving I did it must be mistaken. I know I didn’t do it, which is how I know Harvey is wrong, which is why I’m asking him to evaluate his statement to the police.”

  Cora flopped down on the couch, pulled out a cigarette, tapped it angrily on her lighter. “Besides, I’m not guilty of nearly enough things in this case. I’d sure hate to miss a chance at tampering with a witness.”

  Sherry said, “If what you say is true, between three-thirty and four Benny Southstreet returned to his motel room, most likely in the company of his killer. The killer got possession of Benny’s gun, shot him, stuffed the body in the bathtub, left the gun on the floor, and got the hell out of there without being seen. All in the space of half an hour.”

  Cora shook her head. “It’s not much, but it’s all I got. You put it that way, it could have happened. You put it Harvey’s way, it couldn’t.”

  “Just as long as he changes his story before he talks to the press,” Aaron said. “Public opinion’s a tricky thing. People get something in their minds, it’s hard to change it. It’s important the first thing they hear is three-thirty. If you want, I can do a whole column based on that, get the idea out before anyone has a chance to hear what Harvey has to say. If he decides to stick to four-thirty, they’ll have heard your story first.”

  “Good idea.” Cora heaved herself off the couch, headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get my story out first.”

  Realization dawned. “Hey, it was my idea!” Aaron protested.

&n
bsp; “So come along.” Cora banged out the door with Aaron and Sherry on her heels. She strode down the driveway to where the news crews were waiting. “Okay, gang, fire ’em up. You’re getting a statement.”

  Microphones were shoved in Cora’s face, as camera crews jockeyed for position.

  “Can we get your house in the background?”

  “You can if you aim right. That’s up to you. Okay, we’re going in five, four, three, two, one.” Cora turned on the Puzzle Lady charm. “Hi. I’m Cora Felton. I have a statement to make regarding the Benny Southstreet murder. I have helped the police in the past, and I am eager to assist them in this particular case. Here’s what I know so far. At three-thirty yesterday afternoon, I inspected Benny Southstreet’s motel room. Mr. Southstreet was not there. His body was not there. His gun was there, but it had not been fired. I left the motel room at three-thirty yesterday afternoon, and never went back. I never saw Mr. Southstreet yesterday, alive or dead, and I have no knowledge as to how or when he returned to his room. Thank you very much.”

  Cora strode back up the driveway as reporters shouted questions.

  The phone was ringing when they came in the door. Sherry ran to answer it.

  “If that’s the media, she’s not talking,” Aaron said.

  “Now you’re my publicist?” Cora said.

  “It’s Becky,” Sherry called from the kitchen.

  “Uh-oh.” Cora padded into the kitchen to take her medicine. “Hi, Becky. Been watching TV?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Oh. Never mind. Why’d you call?”

  “It can wait. What did I miss on TV?”

  “You first.”

  “Cora.”

  “You called me. What’s up?”

  “Autopsy report,” Becky told her. “Doc narrowed down the time of death. He’s now placing it between one and three.”

  Cora’s mouth fell open. “One and three!”

  “Yeah. Now, what did I miss on television?”

  “Oops.”

  “IS THERE ANYTHING else you want to tell me?” Becky asked.

  Becky and Cora were eating takeout in her office. Becky was picking at a chopped salad, and Cora was building her strength with a pastrami on rye.

  “You mean like I killed Benny Southstreet?”

  “Is that a confession?”

  “Not so you could notice.”

  “Well, could you do me a favor and stop with the sardonic admissions? Someone’s going to quote you out of context.”

  “It’s just us girls together.”

  “Yeah, but one of these girls would be a lot happier if the other of these girls would keep her mouth shut.”

  “How was I to know the doctor was going to blow the time of death?”

  “Are you sure he did?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I had that gun in my hand. It was after three o’clock and it hadn’t been fired.”

  “Could you have made a mistake?”

  “No, I could not have made a mistake. This is not some minor thing like picking up the dry cleaning. This is my murder alibi.”

  “It wasn’t at the time.”

  “Huh?”

  “When you saw the gun there hadn’t been a murder. There was no reason to note the time.”

  “There was no reason to blow it by two hours either.”

  “Two hours?”

  “Harvey Beerbaum says four-thirty. I say three-thirty. You say two-thirty. That’s a hell of a stretch.”

  “It’s gotta be two-thirty. At least, that’s what I’ve gotta sell a jury. Which is a real kick in the head, now that you’ve said three-thirty. You know how hard it is to change a first impression.”

  “That’s why I did it. To head off Harvey. How was I to know I was going to be undermined?”

  “There’s no way to know. Because you don’t know what the police are doing. You don’t know what the medical examiner is doing. You don’t know what the facts of the case are. That is why your attorney told you to make no comment. Too bad you didn’t listen to your attorney.”

  “Don’t you find it pretentious talking about yourself in the third person?”

  “I’m not interested in word games. Aside from the puzzle the guy had on him. You know anything about that?”

  “Harvey solved it.”

  “I know he did. I understand Benny accuses you of the murder.”

  “That is so stupid. Benny realizes I’m about to kill him, so he writes a crossword puzzle telling the cops I did?”

  “He really accuses you?”

  “Of course not. It’s just a stop-you’re-killing-me wisecrack.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I got a copy of it here.”

  Becky took the puzzle, looked it over. “There’s nothing to it.”

  “Right.”

  “What do you make of it?”

  “I’m being framed. The killer left it by the body to implicate me.”

  “You really think you’re being framed?”

  “Well, it’s either that or I killed him. And I happen to know I didn’t.”

  “How did the killer frame you?”

  “I have no idea. But, boy, is it working. I told a story that’s contradicted by medical evidence, forensic evidence, fingerprint evidence. Plus I’ve got the motive, what with him claiming I ripped him off, and you helping him sue me for big bucks. Say, could you testify against me?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  “I mean would you be allowed to? You being the defense attorney, and all.”

  “Believe it or not, it’s never come up in the course of my practice. I’d have to look up some precedents.”

  Cora snorted in exasperation. “Couldn’t you just say no?”

  “Actually, I think there’s some cases where an attorney can be called as a witness. But, don’t worry, I won’t testify against you, regardless of the situation.” “Much better. Now, what’s our defense?” “I was kind of hoping you didn’t do it.” “Well, you got lucky. I didn’t. How we going to establish that fact?”

  “The frame is too good. We can’t get around it. So we have to prove it’s a frame.” Cora heaved herself to her feet. “Okay. I’ll rattle a few cages. See what I can scare up.”

  MR. WILBUR WAS out on the lawn polishing a gnome. The gnome was filthy. The rag was filthy. The rubbing wasn’t accomplishing much. Still, Cora was impressed by the effort. It was the first she’d seen of Wilbur taking any interest in any of his possessions. Except for his chairs.

  Wilbur glinted up at Cora with an evil eye. “What do you want?”

  “I was hoping we could have a little chat.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. Like I wanna talk to you. You killed Benny.”

  “Oh, Benny, is it? Good friend of yours?”

  “I barely knew him. Don’t make him any less dead.”

  “No, I suppose it doesn’t. And you think I did it?”

  “Police do.”

  “And they’re always right. Has this been your experience?”

  Wilbur said nothing, rubbed the nose of his gnome.

  “Of course, if I didn’t do it, you’d be suspect number one.”

  That got his attention. “What?”

  “The way I understand it, Benny had your chairs. You’re so nutzo about the damn things, you’d have popped him if he wouldn’t give ’em back.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t.”

  Wilbur moved across the path to a second gnome. Cora, looking back and forth, couldn’t tell the difference between the one he’d polished and the one he hadn’t.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, lady. I went to see him the day after he got killed. The police were already there.”

  “You were supposed to see him the day of the murder. What happened then? Did you go?”

  “I don’t have to talk to you.”

  “No, you don’t. But if the police think you’ve got information about the crime, they’re gonna want to know what it is.”

  “The police don�
��t know anything about it.”

  “They will when I tell ’em.”

  “You think they’ll listen to you?”

  “Of course they will. My lawyer’s advised me not to talk. Under the circumstances, they’ll listen to anything I have to say. Suppose I tell ’em you had an appointment with Benny Southstreet at two o’clock.”

  Wilbur peered at her suspiciously. “You’re the one who broke into my house?”

  Cora’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Someone broke into your house? Don’t tell me, they took your chairs.”

  Cora could practically see Wilbur’s mind calculating. “So,” he said. “You broke into my house, you went to meet Benny Southstreet. Benny wasn’t there. So you went back later and killed him.”

  Cora nodded approvingly. “Good. I can’t tell if you really believe that, or if you’re just trying to make me think you didn’t do it. Either way, I admire your cool. So how come you didn’t keep your two o’clock appointment?”

  “Who says I didn’t?”

  “Are you saying you did? You were in there all the time with Benny? Or Benny’s body?”

  “I’ve given my statement to the police.”

  “And they bought it. I wonder what you told them. Let’s see, did you tell them you had a two o’clock appointment? You had to. You had to explain why you showed up at the crime scene. What’d you tell ’em about the day of the murder? That you just didn’t go? That wouldn’t fly. So, you tell ’em you went and he wasn’t there? You got a little problem with that. I was there at two o’clock and I didn’t see you. When the police hear that, they may have a few more questions.”