Expect the Unexpected

by John A. Broussard

  “Professor Colomb was a strange duck. Seems all he could think of was chess. I don’t know much about the game, myself, but from what I could make out, he was a first-class player. Used to rub his opponents’ noses in their losses when he beat them, which was almost always. He got to be a pain, and those who were chess players pretty much just avoided him.”

  Waliewiski broke in. “Did he ever set up games and play alone?”

  “Uh-uh. A couple of the members—can’t remember who—were talking about that in the foyer one day. They said he played games in his head.” Chang tapped his forehead to make the point. “He even liked to play blindfolded in some of his actual games, if you can imagine.”

  Harperworth was emerging as an avoider. Someone who did his best to keep away from the persistent Colomb. Wesley, an occasional player, was considered an unworthy opponent by the deceased. Lamb, as Chang confirmed, knew nothing about chess and was openly proud of the fact.

  While Chang was only too willing to expound on the characteristics of the remaining eleven members, Nolan steered him off in another direction.

  “What was the original purpose of the club?”

  Chang grinned. “To get away from wives—women in general. They were pretty open about that, the original members. The bylaws explicitly exclude women. I kind of feel the atmosphere has changed, though. I think most of the current members just look on this place as somewhere to relax or to do some private work without being disturbed. We’ve got a couple of authors that I know of.” He paused.

  “There is something different going on, come to think of it. There are two membership meetings each year. First Tuesday in December and June. Budget stuff, mostly. Dues, that sort of thing, and those are sky-high, as you can imagine. But there’s something different, something big coming up at the scheduled meeting next week.”

  “Yes?” Nolan encouraged.

  “This is all second hand of course, but I heard Colomb was proposing a rule change to be voted on at the session.”

  “Yes?” This time it came from both officers.

  “I’m not sure I should be mentioning this, but for a murder investigation…”

  Two nods of encouragement.

  For the first time, Chang appeared visibly nervous. Looking over his shoulder at the closed door, his voice dropped. “He wanted to allow women to visit. Only during the day, of course.”

  “Could he change the rules by just getting a vote at the meeting?”

  Chang shook his head. “Not that easy. He needed ten votes…but I heard he had them.”

  ***

  Between the take-outs—Nolan’s Shanxi-style braised beef and Waliewiski’s steamed vegetables—and the information they had gleaned, there was a lot to digest. Waliewiski struggled to keep the discussion on the case and away from the virtues of protein. “Do you think the possible rule change had anything to do with Colomb’s murder?” she asked.

  Nolan grinned. “Do you think someone hated his wife’s company so much he’d take a drastic step like that to keep her out of here?”

  “I’m more interested in finding out why Colomb wanted to change the rule. No one claims he was a womanizer. And, from what Chang said, the proposed amendment was a completely new idea for Colomb. He’s been a member for over fifteen years. Why the change of attitude, and why now?”

  Nolan stuffed her paper napkin and plastic fork into the empty cardboard container and tossed it all into the wastebasket. “Good question to ask our last suspect.”

  ***

  Of the three club members, Terrance Wesley was the most relaxed. As he explained, “I do ninety percent of my work right here in my suite. All I need is a computer and a high-speed connection, and today was time for a wrap-up. I still have work to do, so I’ll probably be here until nine or so.”

  “When was the last time you played chess with Colomb?”

  “Ages ago. I don’t have much time for that these days. Not like grad school, where we were all bored and looking for something to do.”

  “You did hear Colomb was proposing a rule change?”

  “Sure did. He distributed his proposal a couple of weeks ago. You should have heard the moans and groans.”

  “So most of the members objected?”

  “I wouldn’t say most. But the ones who did were pretty vocal.”

  “Wouldn’t it have been difficult for him to get the needed ten votes?”

  “I see you’ve been checking out our bylaws. Actually, he had the ten votes in his pocket. In case you’re wondering, Colomb was rolling in dough. Money talks, as you probably know. To put it bluntly, he’d bought the necessary votes. Big deposit to his account in one of the club member’s banks. A contract for a major developer—he had lots of influence with City Hall. You know the sort of thing.

  “I was one who objected, and I planned to vote against the proposal. Harperworth was one who didn’t object. Lamb was madder than hell at the idea and talked to me about it. We both saw the handwriting on the wall, though. With Colomb pushing it, the amendment was bound to go through. He did have a sure ten votes.”

  “Do you have any idea why he wanted the rule change, after all these years? And why he wanted it so badly?”

  Wesley grinned. “Not passion, I can assure you. At least, not in the ordinary sense. The reason was Eva Sugar. In case you’ve never heard of her, she’s one of the top players in the world—a Hungarian who just moved here recently. Colomb has spent weeks refurbishing his digs to impress her, but no way could he just defy the membership. Even he wouldn’t do that. Most of the members are sticklers for following the rules.

  “So he did a lot of politicking, a lot of arm twisting, and he lined up his ducks for next week’s meeting. I, for one, fully expected to see Eva come waltzing in by the weekend after next.”

  ***

  “Well, what do you think?” Nolan looked across the ornate desk at her partner. “You’ve now talked to all four suspects. Any favorite? Shall we just shoo them home to their spouses and start making background checks on them tomorrow?”

  “Let’s take one more look at the crime scene, first. There’s still something about it that bothers me.”

  “OK. But let’s make it short. That braised beef didn’t stay with me. First thing I’m going to do when I get home is check the freezer and...”

  “Alright. One last look.”

  The crime scene personnel had done their usual careful job. Except for traces of powder and the absence of a corpse, nothing differed from that first encounter when the door had swung open.

  A gasp made Nolan turn around.

  “That’s it! That’s it! Look at the board on the table. Look at the way the pieces are set out.”

  Nolan shrugged. “Looks just the way the pieces do on that wall hanging, and on all the boards in the cabinet.”

  “If you were going to set up the pieces for a game would you set them up that way?”

  “Well…not knowing the first thing about it…Yeah. I guess I would. I’d just look at the way the others are set up. It’s all the same as far as I can see. The pieces look a bit different, but I can tell what’s a king, what’s a queen, a horse and so on.”

  “Exactly. Well, that’s not the way it works. When someone sets up the pieces to play, he makes sure there’s a white square to his right in the first row.”

  “And there is.”

  “That’s because the board is part of the table. So we can skip that step. You wouldn’t have gotten it wrong. It’s the next step in the setup that’s haywire here.”

  “OK. OK. What’s the next step?”

  “You set up the pieces so the white queen is on a white square and the dark queen—in this case the red one—is on a red square.”

  “Gotcha. They were set up wrong. But so what?”

  “Stop and think about it. Would Colomb have set them up wrong? Or Grayson? Or Harperworth? Or Wesley?”

  “I see what you’re getting at. But Colomb wouldn’t have been planning to play a
game with Lamb. He knew he didn’t play.”

  “Right, Gina. Now fill it in.”

  There was a long pause before Nolan spoke. “Lamb came in to talk to Colomb, probably to talk him out of proposing that amendment. They argued. Colomb was adamant, and if the others report his personality correctly, he probably made Lamb mad as hell. Lamb picks up the poker and clobbers him. Probably didn’t mean to kill him, but he did. And, with the red haze fading, he suddenly realizes he’s one of four possibles for the murder. That’s when he decides to throw suspicion as far away from himself as possible.”

  “You’ve got it. He carefully wipes off the poker, then sets up the board for a game—always being careful to leave no prints. Since he’s the only one in the building who doesn’t play, he figures that with the board set up, he’ll be eliminated as a suspect. Except that the result is just the opposite. The finger points right at him.”

  “Let’s go have a chat with Lamb.”

  As they were leaving, Grayson met them at the door of the suite, a box in his hand. He seemed embarassed. “Dr. McNair left this for me when he dropped by today. Said a patient gave it to him and he doesn’t eat chocolates. Unfortunately, I don’t and neither does Chang. I thought you folks might like them. I also wondered if I could leave now. The little woman called and said my supper is getting cold.”

  Nolan sampled the box as the officers went up to the second floor.

  “There’s a lot of carbohydrates there, Gina,” Jill said.

  “Nah. Chocolate’s mostly fat.”

  THE MISSING SHIPMENT

  The explosion happened late in the morning on a day soon after the office of Brantley and Lemke had come suddenly alive and as active as in more prosperous times. The temporary secretary/receptionist was wrestling with the intricacies of Word Perfect, Brantley had his overcoat on and was in a hurry to leave while still carrying on a rapid-fire conversation with Lemke. At that moment the secretary’s phone rang right under Brantley’s elbow. He picked it up, and his face was soon showing a mixture of negative emotions.

  “Yes, Mr. Stanislaus.” Pause. “The shipment went out yesterday afternoon.” Pause. “I know. It’s just across town.” Pause. “Yes, I agree. You should have had it hours ago. Just a moment. I’ll get right back to you.”

  Brantley covered the mouthpiece and turned to Lemke. “Damn! It’s old man Stanislaus. He’s frothing at the mouth about a missing shipment. He’ll be bending my ear for hours, and here I have to meet Emma at the airport. I’m late already, but I have to do whatever I can to keep him happy.” Stanislaus, Inc. was one of Brantley and Lemke’s few remaining large clients. Lemke shook his head in dismay over a foul-up they could ill afford to have happen.

  Back to the phone. “Yes, Mr. Stanislaus, I’ll check immediately.” Pause “Yes, I understand.” Pause. “Yes, I know.”

  Lemke signaled to Brantley. Brantley looked puzzled, then handed him the car keys and smiled a thank you. It was only minutes later, while Brantley was still on the phone and the temp’s eyes were glued to the screen, that the explosion rocked the building.

  ***

  Sergeant McCaffrey decided, shock or no shock, the best time to question witnesses is as soon as possible after the crime. The temp was clearly out of it, but could manage a few answers. Brantley showed the impact of the tragedy less, but he was sprawled in one of the chairs in the outer office, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Their stories agreed. Brantley had been interrupted by a phone call on his way to pick up his wife at the airport. Lemke had volunteered to go for him, while Brantley tried to placate an angry client. The bomb planted in Brantley’s car brought instant death to the volunteer.

  McCaffrey was taking notes in his own unique shorthand style while firing questions at the two. “Who was the client who called?”

  “Stanley Stanislaus, the president of Stanislaus, Incorporated. He was complaining about a missing shipment. I just can’t believe it. Poor Lemke! If it hadn’t been for that call, I would have been the one blown to smithereens!”

  McCaffrey slowly put his notepad away, unclipped the handcuffs from his belt and said, “I doubt that very much. I don’t think there was the least chance of that happening.” McCaffrey made it a point to clearly enunciate the Miranda warning as he quickly slipped the cuffs over the startled Brantley’s wrists.

  “You can turn over your cell phone now, Mr. Brantley. I would guess that the last call you made on it was to this office phone. I suppose it was in your overcoat pocket and you pressed the memory button for this number while you were standing here. I doubt very much that there was any rush to pick up Mrs. Brantley at the airport, and I can guess who profits from Lemke’s death. As for the Stanislaus shipment, I’d be willing to bet it isn’t missing—assuming of course that there actually was a shipment in the first place.”

  Brantley sputtered, though his intention had been to say nothing. “You’re just speculating. You have absolutely nothing to go on. Everything I told you is absolutely true.”

  “Thank you. I was hoping you’d say that. Evidently you didn’t catch the news. There was a fire at the Stanislaus warehouse early this morning. Mr. Stanislaus was badly burnt. He was in no condition to call anyone, and certainly would not have been the least concerned about a missing shipment.”

  THE WHITE MOUNTAIN

  The People of the Ocean came from the setting sun and settled on a large island called Tamohana, where the reefs broke the fury of the seas, and quiet lagoons teeming with fish surrounded its shores. A white-capped mountain stood in the center of the island, capturing the passing clouds and forcing them to shed their burden of rain down upon the fertile land. Grateful to this guardian of their crops, the people soon worshipped it as their god, whom they called Pali.

  There on Tamohana the people multiplied and prospered. There was no need to tend the breadfruit and the coconut, nor any difficulty in harvesting their endless bounty. No tree bore its fruit higher than a tall man’s reach. The taro grew wild, and the tubers swelled and broke the earth inviting the people to pluck them from the ground. The fish swam willingly into the waiting nets. Enormous, flightless birds roamed the land, easily trapped and providing mounds of flesh to be roasted in the campfires.

  Best of all, there was peace in the land. No one raised spear or club against his neighbor. No war canoes sailed along the island’s shore. At this time the chief of the people was a woman, and the rule of the people passed from mother to daughter.

  Then, one day, after countless circlings of the sun and many generations had come and gone, when a woman-chief called Tamai ruled, the island began to tremble. The people fled here and there in terror. Enormous cracks opened in the ground. The great White Mountain spewed smoke and ash. The sky darkened, and the clouds hovering high over Tamohana flung forked lightning down into the pandanus groves.

  After three days of huddling in their huts, which had been torn and beaten by the storms, after cringing at every roar from the White Mountain, and after fighting off the fear following every new upheaval in the ground around them, the people saw the skies clear. The sounds in the earth abated, the winds died down to occasional gusts. Then the people gathered, terror still gripping their hearts.

  One among them, a cousin of Tamai, an old man respected by all because he knew the legends of the people word for word, stood and spoke to them. His voice carried above the wind, which still came rushing down the mountainside in fearful gusts. “Pali is speaking to us. He has given us much since our ancestors came to Tamohana, and yet we have given him nothing in return. He is now showing us his displeasure at our neglect. We must give him something, something we value above all else, something which will show him we are grateful. If we do that, he will curb his anger and once more shower us with his gifts.” The people murmured and then agreed, shouting for him to tell them what they should give to Pali.

  Just before the time of troubles there had been great rejoicing on Tamohana, because Tamai had given birth to a girl child, one lovely to be
hold. Even at birth, she had flowing black silky hair. Her large dark eyes already seemed to catch every movement around her, and a smile hovered on her face, seeming to welcome any who looked at her. The people had come from all over the island to see the proud mother and the beautiful baby lying under the pili-grass mats stretched outside their stone shelter, shading the newborn from the sun. All agreed they had never looked upon so adorable a creature. All agreed they were fortunate to have been born in a time when they could see such a sight. All agreed the Ocean People were blessed to have the promise of her rule one day.

  The memories of those happy days came back suddenly to first two or three in the crowd, then dozens, then hundreds. “Tamai’s child” they whispered, then they spoke the words aloud, and finally they shouted the baby’s name.

  Tamai, herself, had been sitting cross-legged in front of her shelter, her child peacefully asleep at her breast. She heard the first murmurs, and she knew there was nothing more valuable in the whole of Tamohana than the sweet, dark-haired infant breathing softly against her body. She also knew Pali would settle for nothing less. The clouds were closing, sheet lightning flashed across the horizon, the ground trembled in impatience. With a look of agonizing pain etched across her face and then a last hug, she yielded the child to three young and sturdy men, powerful runners, who began immediately on their long journey to the mountainside and up its eastern flank.

  Tamai could not take her eyes off the tip of the White Mountain, the end of the journey for her child. Few of the people dared to look at the mountain. None could look at her. Most straggled back to their torn shelters, searched in the rubble for a few morsels to feed to their crying children, and waited. After a while, the sun peered through the clouds, the trembling abated, the sheets of fire in the distance faded and went out, though the mountain still coughed and belched intermittently.

  By sundown, even the wind had tired. Tamai had not. Still she watched as a full moon peered over the shoulder of the White Mountain. Soon the men would return. Soon, the last link with her child would be announced.