"Excuse us Paul we're not customers we're the detectives interviewing people about the murder of Harry Langer," said Stacy.
Paul turned around and over his half glasses peered at the two detectives looking at him "I see. Well, let's go out back to my house where we can talk. I love to tell people what a butt head Harry was."
After exiting the back door, it was a sight incongruous with the shop. A neat small house with a well trimmed lawn looked like a house in fairy tale land. It was painted stark white with window shutters in a shade lighter than dark green. Flowers were still fighting the last days of bloom, but still colorful. A well swept concrete walk led from shop to house. Rory was craning his neck looking at the terra cotta red roof.
Paul led them through the back door into a cozy kitchen. A left turn brought them into a spotless living room with two sofas at a right angle to each other making an L shape. A single Lazy boy recliner resided at the end of one sofa. It faced a TV that was attached to the wall. A Mrs. Paul came in from the back wiping her hands on freshly ironed apron. "I thought I heard voices Paul. Who are these nice looking folks?"
"They're detectives investigating the murder of old Harry. They want to ask some questions. How about a nice cup of tea for our guests," said a smooth talking Paul Coopra.
"I like that idea Paul and how about some chocolate chip cookies," said Celle as her name was finally said half way through the interview.
""Tell us about Harry Langer Paul," asked Rory.
"I stand in the middle of the road. The antagonists walk down one lane while the advocates the other lane. The antags outnumber the advos by 10 – 1. Me and Celle are among the count of middlins on one hand. In my opinion, the ones who wanted him dead are many in this community. Some may have justification, but other don't have a leg to stand on. Harry was a businessman. You can't own and run a bank by giving your money away just because someone needs it. There're rules for customers of a bank to abide by. Once again, in my opinion, because this is a murder case and regardless of the action a person has received from Harry, death is not acceptable." An interruption occurred with a tray of tea cups and saucers that surrounded a tea pot and a pile of delicious looking cookies. Stacy knew Rory would decimate that pile of cookies in a hot second.
Tea poured, cookies at arm's reach, and Paul continued his pearls of wisdom. "Here is my short list: Ralph Bolster and his buddy Amos Brown. May Rooter, the Riggins, Anita Albright, Maria Topaz, Stanly Northrop and Jason Bernard. They're more who could be sleepers that I'm not aware of."
"All were on the outing last Saturday, but Anita, Stanly and Jason Bernard. We've listened to the stories about everyone except Anita Albright, including her husband Stanly. We're under the impression Anita was, as you say: 'middlin' in the position of for and against in the Harry Langer crime. Can you expand on that name Mr. Paul," asked Stacy.
"Usually any story has a semblance of truth in it. In Anita Albright's story, the source of hearing the story or stories, is sitting on the sofa not far away. I'll let her tell you what she knows. By the way, we don't think repeating a story heard from a friend is violating a trust when it comes to murder. My wife and I firmly believe the killer must be apprehended to protect our way of life. It's your turn in the barrel my dear," said Paul looking at his wife fondly.
A squirm here and a clear the throat there Celle said, "Anita and I are close friends. We visit most days. My husband tells me stories of his customers and Anita tells me stories of life in the Langer house. It relives the boredom of an otherwise mundane existence. My point is that any good exciting conversation is rewarding. However, if a story is passed on revealing a bad thing we sympathize with the victim.
Over the years since Anita has worked for Shelly, Harry has subjected Anita to some not so nice things. Once simple example is when Shelly had an errand to run in the city, which left Anita at home alone with Harry. He'd ask for a bath. Well, the first time Anita was eager to help, but then when he wanted – oh my—his penis washed by hand—Anita refused. Harry told her to make it ejaculate or she'd lose her job. They need the money. So she acquiesced. This went on for years. Anita felt ashamed. She never told her husband.
Well, it got so bad, with him groping and to the point of penetration, he suddenly let some time go by. She found some sex books hidden in his office. Then it started up again. Now he wanted her to use her mouth on his penis. She ran out of the house down to me.
That brings us to last Saturday. Anita told me she was going shopping on the coast to breathe some fresh air. On Sunday, she seemed happy for the first time in a long while."
"My God, was her job that important," asked Rory.
"They've two kids that cost a lot of money to educate. Now that they're working, Anita and Stanly are still paying off the loans. Yes, she needed the money. Shelly paid her well at $12 dollars an hour. Well that's why Paul has her on the 'short' list as he calls it."
"We'd like your take on the bank manager Stanly Northrop," said Stacy.
"For years we were customers of Harry's bank. Stanly was friendly and accommodating. I enjoyed going there until the accident putting Harry in a wheel chair. After that accident I found the bank rather unsociable, Stanly being the exception. We first became friends when his toaster quit working. I found out later his pittance of a salary didn't allow for new electrical items. I fixed his toaster for a small price. He was ecstatic. So, over the years he's brought me all of his electrical problems and job related problems. I placed him on the list as Harry treated Stanly like a worthless human being. A man can only take so much and then blows his stack. It's possible Stanly blew his stack."
"I also see you've placed Anita Topaz on the short list," said Stacy. "Expand on her possible reason to have murdered Harry."
"Maria's job depends on the enrollment of the Senior Center. As she's a single woman, not yet retired or qualified for a pension, she desperately needs the income. Simply put, Harry Langer and his rotten personality prevented many more seniors to attend the center. It has the potential of a hundred a day. Now it's a big day at sixty or seventy. It's marginal at best. Now, you watch, the seniors will flock to the center for lunch and games."
"We heard the story of Jason Bernard losing his sawmill directly or indirectly due to Harry Langer. The subsequent death of his brother may have put him over the edge. Do you Paul have anything to add to that man on your short list," asked Rory.
"No not really. You'll probably find that last Saturday he has an alibi, but if, and I say if, he's a sneaky guy. Not only is he sneaky, but agile and very clever. If he made a plan to kill old Harry, he'd have been extremely crafty about it," said Paul leaning back with a self satisfied grin on his face.
Regroup at the Center
"For the life of me," said Emma, "how are you guys going to find the killer? It seems to me that a dozen have the motive and opportunity to execute the old feller. I guess that's why I'm a secretary and not an investigator."
"We're just as confused as you are," said Stacy. You could assign a number to each, roll the dice and that would be the one who done it."
"Nice analogy," said Rory with a grin. What is the best thing to do is sit back and wait for you as usual."
"That can only mean you're not up to speed Tall Man. I saw you wolf down those cookies. I saw the smile on her face loving every minute of you enjoying her cookies."
"We've a mystery here," said Ben. "There're two handguns missing. We can be pretty sure one is starting to rust on the coast, but where is the other one. I went back over May's story and she swears that somebody must have taken it, but whom?
"We discovered she's a friend of Jason Bernard. I can't think of a more unlikely couple," said Stacy.
"When shall we interview the old lumber baron," asked Rory.
"I was waiting for Dan to come back. Part of the key to this case is an access to the trail to the Amazing Tree from the highway. If Maria did come out behind May, there must be an access path or shortcut. Its either that or she was h
iding in the brush. But if that's the case, why would she pop up behind a witness," said Stacy.
It was time for Maria to close up the center. After going outside, Stacy called Dan for an update. He told her he was perhaps thirty minutes away. That gave time for Stacy to think about how to handle Jason the lumber baron. Maybe this is a job for Rory and Ben. They would be man to man and let the dirt fly where it may. Meanwhile, she decided rather than stay over, they would return to Eugene. Tomorrow they would put the reports/interview into respective places. Besides she wouldn't have to deal with a place for Rory to spend the night.
Rory and Ben thought it a good idea the two of them interviewing Jason Bernard. No doubt he'd open up more around men than a young woman. In the end it was his loss and her gain as they did a few crumbs of information thrown their way.
The Amazing Tree Trail
On the way back, Emma sat in the rear while Stacy rode shotgun. This report was too important to have something missed by a front to back conversation. Dan said, "The first thing I did was see a ranger dude. As you know there's a nice map under glass showing all the trails. The ranger was very helpful. He knows the area like the back of his hand. The Amazing trail is a loop affair. One part does run along the highway, but as there's only one large parking area for sightseers, a short cut does exist. The question is why would someone from the center walk up the highway, and then take a short cut down to the trail that lead to the Amazing Tree.
As far as I could tell and the ranger could tell, Maria must have either taken the short cut or she was off the trail doing whatever. I guess you will need to ask her."
"Okay Dan. A return trip is already scheduled, but not until we all meet at the office tomorrow," said Stacy who leaned back engaging her thought processes.
The Old Lumber Days
Jason Bernard answered his door with a face that some of his sawmill workers witnessed when a forklift operator spilled a unit of lumber all over the ground. Both Rory and Ben had their shields out ready to show the lumber man who they were. He glanced and stood back to let them in. Rory said later that it was a nice spacious home, but awful big for one guy. Jason was tall, just at six feet and would have been taller if not bow legged. He led them to his office where both felt they were walking into a museum of old sawmill days. Pictures of his sawmill, logging sides, trucks with his name on the doors, and various other awards, of nameless lumber organizations of old hung on the walls. A miniature band mill stood in one corner. His desk, which he promptly sat down at, was beautiful. He beamed when told how nice it was from Ben. "It's maple with parts of it walnut," he said.
Three wooden chairs with arms that shined sat in front of the desk for visitors. They too were spotless as was the entire room. Rory took the lead and asked, "Do you own a small caliber hand gun Mr. Bernard?"
The reaction was like a shot to the belly. He flinched just a little and said, "I've a passel of guns detective. I've a .32 S&W and on up to a .44 mag. and behind you is my gun case. I'll get it for you." He stood up and walked with purpose to the gun case. From his pocket he took a key ring, found the one he needed and opened it up. With two fingers near the trigger he brought the little gun to Rory. Rory had a plastic Ziploc and Jason dropped it into the bag.
"I'll give you a receipt Mr. Bernard. Now where were you last Saturday," Rory asked.
"Right here in my home. I did go to the market in town to pick up some sandwich material. After that I drove west to Slater Creek to visit my brother's grave. I was home by 9 am. Nobody saw me after passing through town. My old pickup truck is not hard to miss. I'm sure somebody must have seen me drive east through town to my house. If not, then, I've no alibi."
"What was your relationship with Harry Langer Mr. Bernard," asked Ben.
"You've been in town since morning. That tells me you already know he and I were like opposing knights in armor. I read lot detectives. Medieval times I truly like to read about.
I guess business is business in or was in Harry's book of life. Me too, if the truth were known. I asked, he refused. It's that simple. I retired and my brother committed suicide."
"Do you or did you hold a grudge against Harry," asked Ben.
"Are you asking did I wait twenty five years before I sought revenge? I know what I know and if you want to know, then do your best detecting detectives."
"Do you have any other vehicles other than your old pickup that you drive once in awhile," asked Rory.
"For sentimental reasons I keep my dead wife's car in operational condition. It's locked up in a garage out back. It's maybe has a dead battery because I'm a little lazy sometimes. I'll look at it tomorrow."
"How about we go look now," suggested Rory.
"It's getting dark, but if you insist let's go.
A walk out the back to the detached garage they found his wife's car. Jason opened the hood and when he tried to start it, sure enough, the battery was almost dead. Rory leaned over and inspected the battery and its connections.
"Put a charger on it Mr. Bernard. One more question sir, we hear that May Rooter comes to visit once in awhile. When was the last time she was here at your house," asked Ben.
"She can cook very well. I think she was here last Friday," said Jason.
Sorting Time
Rory spent the night at Super 8 just off the freeway. It thought it somewhat ironic that just a few weeks ago he was sleeping with his, and he was at a loss to put a name to their relationship. He used the old standby: girlfriend. He recalled reaching out when she was sleeping and feeling her smooth skin on her soft back. Stacy was a heavy sleeper. Many times he let his fingertips run over her body. Now, he lay in a vile smelling motel room alone and admittedly lonely.
Across the freeway and to the southwest, his old girlfriend was sawing logs like old Jason Bernard used to do when his mill was producing more than 150,000 bf a shift. Stacy was mentally exhausted from sorting the interviews of the last few days. A couple things of major importance were bothering her. One was the missing two pistols. One from the bed stand of the victim and the other one was from May Rooter. The other one was the appearance of Maria Topaz behind May Rooter coming up the trail from the Amazing tree.
That was the last thing she remembered as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Early the next morning, she called Cathy while drinking tea, waiting for the toast to pop up. Rory had purchased the toaster not so long ago. He'd complained about no toaster for his scrambled eggs he was so proud of. She smiled and when Cathy picked up, "Hi Cathy. Hope it's not too early for you this grey dismal day in the valley."
"Not at all Stacy. I've been up for—let me see – at least twenty minutes," she said laughing. Actually I over slept and my six year old daughter woke me up tell me it was time for school. Anyway, what's up?"
"If you can see your way clear this morning, I'd like it if you could come over around 9 am for a get together with us. I'd like to hear once again everything you and Maria talked about and also how she handled herself as a director," said Stacy.
"I can probably do that. Let me see what's up at the office and if I don't call, I'll be there," said Cathy. Stacy could hear in the background a little girl wanting her cereal and wanted it right now! Stacy smiled wondering how it might be having kids. She shuddered a little and fetched her toast.
Pure Muddle
Stacy walked in at the same time as Dan and Emma. Rory followed meekly behind. Emma dashed to the kitchen for a pot of coffee and hot water. Stacy went to her office with Rory tagging along behind. After taking her coat off, Stacy turned and said, "Tall Man, you need to buck up and smile like the old days. I haven't dumped you; I just put us on hold for awhile. But if Ms. Right shows you her big chest, go for it. Go get some coffee and if you've not had breakfast, go get some muffins at the bakery down the street. I've some white board work to do for a little while. You do remember when we when had a list of suspects from the Charter Boat case. We put a three category column with names in their respective column."
"I remember very well. I'll be back as I'm starving as usual. That Egg McMuffin did nothing for me. I'd best get a sack full for everybody," Rory said long stepping it out the door.
Stacy turned to the white board with her board marker in hand. Using a yard stick, she made three vertical lines. Then a line across the top for the headings. The first column would be: Prime Suspect – next, Suspect – last would be Possible Suspect. She made eight horizontal lines to place names on.
She went back to her desk to read the entire interviews that she had on hand. Emma had some data she was entering into the computer at lightning speed. After a quick read through, she takes what she had to Em. By 9 am she'd have all entered with copies for all the investigators.
It didn't take long for Emma to realize Stacy needed private time to digest and assimilate all things concerning a case. Emma had a sign shop make a "Do Not Disturb" sign. It was a sliding door sign with the reverse noting: "Knock Before Entering."
Emma had the Do Not sign up when Rory came back. Rory never blinked an eye and went to the kitchen where he found Ben drinking coffee reading the local rag. "Morning partner," said Ben. I'm struggling to find housing for us. The kids want a high end school and those happen to be here in Eugene and not so much in Springfield. The wife isn't much help. All she wants to do is work in the yard. We guys can't win for losing. I'm not sure I understand that one at all. How was the Super room last night?"
"Damn cold and lonely. I'll find a bed warmer sooner rather than later. I've set a goal Ben, by thirty five I'll be married. If not, then I'll be a confirmed bachelor. Here have a muffin. There're still warm."
Murder Mysteries # 4 Page 12
