Pane and Suffering

by Cheryl Hollon

  “But they worked in the same area. That doesn’t mean anything.”

  Savannah raised her hand in a stop signal. “There’s more to it. She says Officer Boulli let it slip that the poison that killed Hugh was also used on Dad. The facts are that he has a key to the shop, his fingerprints were on the cup, and he has no alibi for early mornings. The forensic lady found a baby jar full of an herb mixture tucked in with Jacob’s paints in the custom workshop. I’m willing to bet that it contained the poison. It makes a compelling case. I’m worried.”

  “What’s this?” Edward peered down on the sheet of onion skin spread out on the worktable. “It looks like bugs have chewed this up.”

  Amanda piped up. “That’s what I thought, but look at this. It’s way, way cool. I’ve never seen anything so clever. It fits onto a page in one of Mr. Webb’s Dan Brown books to reveal the next puzzle. I’ll bet he was a consultant for the puzzles in those books. Mr. Webb was a clever man. He was, wasn’t he?”

  Savannah felt a flush of pride at the compliment. “Yes, but I’m afraid he may have been a bit too clever to leave me a puzzle that I can’t figure out. He was always right next to me and ready to guide me to the solutions when we worked on them when I was a girl. This is an entirely different sort of code.”

  Edward looked into Savannah’s eyes and spoke softly. “The stakes are quite different, as well. Why didn’t he leave a message in the will or with me or just make it clear in the first puzzle?”

  “He was a very proud man, remember? And paranoid along with it. If he wasn’t sure enough to have the killer arrested or charged, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone.”

  “We need to figure out what he was trying to tell you. If there’s any chance to clear Jacob by solving this puzzle, we must do that. Now.”

  “Right, let’s copy out the letters that are revealed one more time and see if that will click something for one of us.” Savannah printed the letters on the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. She stood back and inserted slash marks for word separations.

  ON / THE / EDGE / OF / SPLENDOR

  Amanda propped her chin in the palm of both hands. “I can’t think of anything.” She turned to Edward. “Anything?”

  His eyes turned serious. “This could hold the solution to the murders. It’s a paralyzing thought.” He looked toward Savannah. “Did your dad solve these kinds of puzzles in his work under this kind of pressure?”

  “I think he did. He was an amazing man, but he would have known that I would need to have a simple puzzle rather than something too obscure.”

  “Good.” Edward stood. “Let’s try to relax and concentrate on obvious meanings. The phrase ‘Edge of Splendor’ is curious. What can we make of that?”

  “Could it mean the edge of the bay? He used to take me to see the sunrise on the water over by the arbor on Coffee Pot Bayou. It was a Saturday morning ritual. While we were watching, he would say, ‘What a splendor of light’ during the rising of the sun. Then we would go get breakfast.”

  “Okay. Would he have hidden a message there for you to find?” asked Edward.

  “I can’t think of anything.” She slumped onto a stool. “Wait, it could be the arbor. That was also one of his geocache locations that we would check when we were there. What time is it?”

  Amanda looked at her Mickey Mouse watch. “It’s only four-thirty. Guys, I am petrified at the thought of Jacob spending the night in jail. What if they won’t let him keep Suzy!” She pulled a tissue from one of her many bags and snuffled into it.

  “Focus, focus. It’s only a short drive. Let’s take the van. We can be there in a few minutes.” Savannah pulled the keys from her pocket. “We’ll lock the doors, set the alarm, and come back here with whatever we find.”

  Edward shook his head. “Look. I’ve got some arrangements to make at the pub. I’ll make some calls so I can have the evening off. I can’t leave the crew short-handed. I’ll be back in two shakes.”

  “Deal,” said Savannah. “We’ll meet up at the van.”

  The trip to Beach Drive took a bit longer than Savannah remembered. The traffic was heavier during the evening commuter hour, so it was more than twenty minutes later before they were parked and standing in front of the tall white arbor with its substantial base of Spanish style columns that supported a wooden trellis. A mature twisted bougainvillea plant was in front of each pillar and the thick vines wound up the trellis with a heavy canopy of red blooms.

  “Amanda, will you keep a lookout? One of the cardinal rules of geocaching is to make sure no one passing by sees where the caches are hidden. Just yell out that someone is coming and we’ll back away and wait until they pass.”

  She nodded and began looking up and down the sidewalk as Edward and Savannah cut through the grass toward the structure.

  “The cache is over here.” She led him over to the bottom of one of the large white columns that gave the structure an old world look.

  “Someone’s coming,” whispered Amanda at near conversational volume. “There’s three of them. Just hold off.”

  Edward quickly took Savannah’s arm and planted her against the column and began to nuzzle her neck. “Camouflage is quite fun,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

  She giggled. “And you call this convincing?”

  He pulled his head back and looked into her eyes. Then he kissed her with quiet passion and tenderness.

  Savannah forgot that it was a ruse and returned his kiss with unexpected warmth.

  “All clear.” Amanda looked over. “Hey, do you think you can start concentrating? Really, some people have great difficulty concentrating on the task at hand. I find it extremely annoying myself to be prepared to work and look what you two are up to. Really!”

  Savannah felt as scarlet as the ever-blooming canopy of bougainvillea blossoms and pushed down the passion that Edward had awakened. Stooping down, she cautiously reached her arm into the multiple branching trunks—careful to avoid the two-inch thorns that make the flowering plant a trespass deterrent.

  “Here it is.” She pulled out a small box and stood. With Edward and Amanda blocking the view of the many walkers that constantly passed on the sidewalk, Savannah opened the box to find only a new logbook and a pencil. The logbook was blank except for a congratulatory note from the owner. She stood there a moment, then her shoulders slumped. “This can’t be right. There’s nothing here that could take us further.”

  Amanda nudged her over to peek into the box. “Are you sure? Nothing?”

  Savannah turned the box over and over in her hands. “I’ve got it wrong. I’m not going to get this figured out in time.”

  Edward put his arm around her shoulders in a side hug. “Stop that kind of talk. It’s not the right solution, but we still have plenty of daylight. Let’s get back to the shop and take another look at the puzzle.”

  “Of course. I’m so anxious. I’m not considering how obscure this hint is for us.” She tucked the cache back under the bougainvillea plant. “I guess the pressure of trying to get Jacob out of jail is affecting my thinking. I’m sure that he was meant to help uncover the solutions. Dad was training him in code breaking. Not a comforting thought.”

  Chapter 27

  Friday Afternoon

  For the tenth time in as many minutes, Detective Parker checked the status of processing Jacob. It was irritating beyond belief to let Officer Boulli bumble his way through the minimal steps required for preparing a juvenile suspect to be questioned. He shook his head and checked the status again. It had been over half an hour already.

  The documentation would be important for the day when he could finally recommend the inept officer be fired. It would probably be easier to arrest the real murderer, and at the bureaucratic level, definitely quicker.

  Unfortunately, since Jacob had access and any number of opportunities to poison the two glass artists, Parker needed to quickly eliminate him as a suspect to refocus the investigation on searching for the real killer. Collecting docu
mentation on Officer Boulli was one of those serendipitous opportunities he couldn’t let pass. A chance like this one might not come his way for months if not years.

  “What is the problem?” Officer Boulli looked down at Jacob. “This is a police station, boy, not a pet parade.”

  They were standing in front of a small postal type window and Jacob was holding Suzy and looking around her, down to Officer Boulli’s shoes. “Sir, I need to take Suzy outside.”

  “What? No way. I need to get you through this processing bull so I can start the real questioning. All you have to do is empty your pockets.”

  “I don’t carry anything in my pockets.”

  “What? That’s impossible.”

  Jacob’s voice rose a little higher and he began to breathe faster. “I don’t have anything in my pockets.”

  The officer behind the window leaned over to Boulli. “What’s the problem? A line is starting to build. Check his stuff and get moving.”

  “Sir, I need to take Suzy outside.”

  Ever-patient Suzy looked at Jacob and whimpered a short whine.

  “This is important. Suzy needs to go,” Jacob insisted.

  “Okay, already. Take off her pack and check it in.”

  “But I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.” Boulli pulled at the Velcro straps that held Suzy’s service pack on and pitched it through the window.” Sending a hard look to the property officer behind the window, he asked, “Are you good now?”

  “Thank you, Officer. He’s processed and in the system.” Shaking his head, the property officer tucked Suzy’s pack into a large bag and labeled it JACOB UNDERWOOD. He added the date and the case number muttering all the while, “That man has no sense, no sense at all,” and motioned for the next in line.

  Officer Boulli trotted down the hallway dragging an agitated Jacob with him. Jacob was struggling to keep upright while holding on to Suzy cradled in both arms. They finally arrived at the end of the hallway and Boulli held open the door to the outside.

  Jacob placed Suzy on a small patch of grass that faced Central Avenue just a few yards away. Suzy performed, shook herself thoroughly, and returned to sit beside Jacob, who instantly scooped her up into his arms.

  “Let’s go,” urged Officer Boulli. He looked at his watch. “We’re late.”

  “Late?” echoed Jacob. “Late?”

  “Yeah, very late. We should have been done long ago.” Officer Boulli led the teenager by the arm down the long hallway.

  Jacob stood stiff in his tracks and nearly pulled Officer Boulli over.

  “What the—” Boulli uttered as he regained his bulky balance and looked to see that Jacob was having difficulty breathing. The officer released his grip and Jacob set Suzy down and sat down beside her still struggling to get enough air.

  “What? What’s the matter?” Boulli yelled down at Jacob.

  Suzy moved close to him and placed a paw on his knee.

  Jacob scooted backwards to lean his back against the hallway wall. “In”—he took a tiny breath—“hale”—another breath—“er”—another breath. His lips were taking on a slightly blue tinge. He puffed out a forced breath and struggled to say, “Inhaler.”

  Suzy looked up with pleading brown eyes.

  “Oh, your inhaler. Where is it?”

  Jacob’s eyes were beginning to droop. “Suzy’s pack.”

  “Crap, crap, crap.” Officer Boulli sprinted as fast as his bulk would allow down the long hallway and back to the property window. Gasping, he pushed the people in line out of the way and leaned his head into the window. “I need the dog’s pack.” He panted like a steam engine. “Hurry. It’s got a medicine in it.”

  The property officer raised his eyebrows high, reached for the bag, and pulled out the pack. “Here. You had better hurry.” He shoved it through the window and the sweating Boulli grabbed it.

  The trip back down the hallway extracted the last vestige of fitness from him as he staggered the last few feet and dropped the pack at Jacob’s feet.

  Jacob lifted his head and pulled his inhaler out of the pack and puffed it quickly. He exhaled long and inhaled another puff.

  Boulli was sweating profusely and leaned against the wall trying desperately to get his breath.

  As he stood there recovering, Jacob calmly stowed the inhaler back into the storage pocket and fastened the pack around Suzy. Lifting her back into his arms, he stood patiently beside the panting officer. “I’m ready. Can I see my mother now? She said she would be waiting for me.”

  Nodding wearily, the officer led the way down the hallway and turned into the corridor where the interview conference rooms were located. He opened the largest one, motioned for Jacob to sit at the table in the center of the room, and collapsed into one of the chairs along the wall, sweating like a beached walrus.

  In his office, Detective Parker clicked the status tab once more and it indicated PROCESSED for Jacob. “Finally.” He retrieved a file folder from his desk drawer and marched quickly down the hallway to the part of the building that contained the interview rooms.

  Jacob’s parents and lawyer were sitting on the plain industrial metal chairs that lined the far hallway just outside the entrance to the interview room. Like the chairs in a hospital waiting room, they simply couldn’t provide comfort no matter the design.

  Detective Parker walked over and they immediately stood like soldiers awaiting orders. He extended his hand. “I’m Detective David Parker in charge of the case involving Jacob.”

  Jacob’s mother stepped forward and shook his hand. “Good afternoon, Detective Parker. We may have met, but you don’t look familiar. I’m Judge Frances Underwood, Jacob’s mother.” She gestured to the pale man standing next to her. “This is my husband, Ben and our lawyer, Mark Howard.”

  “Ma’am, your name sounds familiar.” Detective Parker’s eyes narrowed. “Should I know you?”

  “I’m not sure we’ve crossed paths, but I’ve been the chief judge for the Sixth Judicial Circuit’s Juvenile Division of Pasco and Pinellas Counties for the last fifteen years.”

  Detective Parker shook Ben’s hand while still looking at Judge Underwood and in his mind saw his quick in-and-out questioning of Jacob fly out the window. “I don’t think our paths have crossed.” He shook hands with Mark Howard. “Obviously, I can skip the brief instructions about how the process works.”

  Judge Underwood smiled tightly. “Please continue as if I were just an ordinary parent.”

  Nodding, Detective Parker motioned for them to sit and he took the chair next to her, leaving Ben and Mark to lean forward to hear what he had to say. Parker smoothly recited the information he usually gave to a suspect’s family at the start of a major case.

  “Succinct and well delivered, Detective Parker,” Judge Underwood admitted, if stiffly, when he was finished. “I’m happy that we can continue.”

  Detective Parker nodded. “I assume you would prefer to be present during our interrogation of Jacob?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  A familiar tension began to knot its way up the back of Detective Parker’s neck. “If you’ll follow me, he’s just down here.” He led the way into the hallway of interview rooms around the corner and held open the third door on the left. He stepped back to let them enter the room.

  Jacob stood up instantly with Suzy in his arms. He looked down at his shoes. “Mother, I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t hurt Mr. Webb. I didn’t hurt Mr. Trevor.”

  Judge Underwood hurried over to her son, but didn’t embrace him, as society would have expected. She lightly rested a hand on his forearm and bent down to look into his eyes. “I know, Jacob. I believe you. We need to find the truth. Right?”

  “Yes, Mother, we need the truth.”

  She spun around to the lounging Officer Boulli. “I’ve never heard of an incoming suspect taking this long to simply turn over no possessions to the property officer. You realize I made sure he had no possessions. What took you over thirty
minutes to check in at the property window and walk half the length of this building?”

  Detective Parker was delighted with Officer Boulli’s answer.

  Chief Juvenile Judge Frances Underwood—not so much.

  Chapter 28

  Friday Evening

  Savannah, Edward, and Amanda returned to the shop and gathered around the classroom worktables once more.

  Amanda looked down at the Dan Brown novel and up at the whiteboard. “So far, all we’re doing is proving that Jacob is the only one who could have killed John and Hugh. Maybe we should just leave this to the cops.”

  “I’m not giving up. We haven’t completed the code so we don’t have all the information yet. Savannah paced back and forth in the front of the classroom before light dawned. “Wait. Dad called the panel in the custom workshop Splendor. It was on the invoice for the stained glass project.” She headed to the custom workshop to look at the panel.

  Amanda followed. “Do you think he meant the panel that they were working on for that big contract?”

  Edward shrugged his shoulders, following them. “Well it’s possible, but why would you think that?”

  Savannah flipped on the lights and the large panel lay out like a patient ready for the doctor to complete a lifesaving operation.

  “It’s just a hunch, but it makes sense that he would have a clue here in the shop so that he could make sure it was available to me.” Savannah gently ran her hand across the smooth surface of the panel. Most of the individual pieces were spot soldered. The more recent pieces were held in their place within the panel with small metal pushpins. “This copy panel is going to be as beautiful as the original.”

  Amanda crossed her arms across her chest. “Everything in here is splendid!”

  Savannah felt her frustration. “Yes, but he called this one Splendor on his invoice.”