Presumed Puzzled

by Parnell Hall

  “Thank you for telling me what my client said.”

  “You know what your client said. And you know what your client thought when she heard Cora Felton had been in that hotel with her husband. She thought, who else would have lured her away from the house with a crossword puzzle?”

  Becky’s smile was enormous. “She thought Cora Felton sent her a crossword puzzle to frame her for the murder of her husband?”

  “You know that’s what she thought.”

  “Of course,” Becky said sarcastically. “The Puzzle Lady frames her rival for murder with a crossword puzzle. Who would ever suspect? It would be the perfect crime.”

  Henry Firth frowned. “Let’s not quibble. Do you have that crossword puzzle?”

  “That was burned at the mall?”

  “Do you have a copy of that puzzle?”

  “A hypothetical copy of a hypothetical puzzle my client mentioned when you illegally questioned her outside of my presence?”

  “There was nothing illegal about it.”

  “Let’s not go around again,” Judge Hobbs said. “Ms. Baldwin. Do I understand that you have no intention of revealing Cora Felton’s whereabouts or discussing any evidence your client may have mentioned to the prosecuting attorney?’

  “That’s right, Your Honor.”

  “Good. I’m going home.”

  Chapter

  34

  There was a knock on the door. Cora got up, leaned close, said, “Who is it?”

  “Open up. It’s me.”

  Cora eased the motel door open. Crowley and Stephanie came in.

  “Were you followed?” Cora said.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m a policeman.”

  “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

  Stephanie surveyed the sparse motel room furnishings. “Hey, nice place you got here.”

  “I didn’t choose it for the decor.”

  “I imagine not. Any reason you couldn’t come see us in New York? Not that I mind driving out here or anything.”

  “It would have meant crossing state lines. Flight is an indication of guilt.”

  “You really think they’ll charge you?” Crowley said.

  “The only thing stopping them is they can’t find me,” Cora said. “You can probably score some brownie points by turning me in.”

  “Hey, it’s not like I had a choice. I had to give up the desk clerk. How was I supposed to know he was going to finger you? I can’t be expected to keep track of all your romantic entanglements.”

  “Oh, low blow,” Stephanie said. “You sanctimonious one-woman man.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Cora said.

  “No. You’re a friend and you’re in trouble. But it is kind of amusing. I mean, it’s not like anyone seriously thinks you killed the guy. You never killed any of your husbands.”

  “Well, I was never prosecuted for it,” Cora said.

  Crowley gave her a look.

  “Hey, when you’ve had as many husbands as I have, some of them are going to die. It’s not my fault, it’s just statistics.”

  “Are you sure they’re going to arrest you?” Stephanie said.

  “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t. Well, actually, I can. They have Paula Martindale on trial. It would be embarrassing to arrest me for the same crime. But they can arrest me for obstruction of justice.”

  “And now that we know it, they can arrest us,” Stephanie said. “Thanks a lot.”

  Cora grinned. “I hadn’t thought of that. But now that you mention it…”

  Crowley flopped down on the edge of the bed. “I don’t get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “This isn’t like you. Running and hiding. I’d expect you to stride in there and take them all on.”

  “Oh, give her a break,” Stephanie said. “She just had her affair aired in court. Of course she needs a little time to regroup.”

  “That’s not it,” Cora said. “You think I’ve never done the walk of shame before? I’d be perfectly happy to face the music. But Becky hasn’t had a case in months. Then she gets the most depressing client imaginable. The type you can’t help secretly hoping gets convicted. And she suddenly gets a chance to play Perry Mason. Spiriting away a witness. Taking on the court and the prosecutor. Finding legal ways not to surrender me. I can’t bear to spoil her fun.”

  “That’s why you’re doing this?” Crowley said.

  “Plus, I can use the time to try to figure out what the hell is going on. Before someone asks me to explain it and I haven’t got a clue.”

  “This gets worse and worse,” Stephanie said. “We’re not just obstructing justice. We’re aiding and abetting a fugitive.”

  “Yeah.” Cora cocked her head. “Kind of fun, isn’t it?”

  “So what do you expect us to do?” Crowley said.

  “Do?”

  “What was so all-fired important you called us up here? I mean, it’s a hell of a situation, but I’m a New York City cop. What do you expect me to do about it?”

  “I don’t expect you to do anything,” Cora said.

  “Then why did you call?”

  “I was lonely.”

  “Cora.”

  “I’m serious. Think about it. I’m stuck here without a car. I’m not allowed to call Sherry or Aaron because people will be asking them where I am. All I’ve had to eat for two days is pizza. I need to talk to a human being. I need to eat some decent food. Hell, maybe we could go to a movie.”

  “You’re nutty as ever,” Crowley said.

  “Thank you.”

  There was a knock on the door. They looked at each other. Stephanie got up and opened it.

  Becky came in. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “Cora invited us for dinner and a movie,” Stephanie said. “Wanna come?”

  “No. I wanna talk to my client.”

  “I’m not your client,” Cora said.

  “You are now,” Becky said grimly.

  Chapter

  35

  “Paula Martindale fired me.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s a bitch.”

  “No kidding. Care to elaborate?”

  “Cops got a warrant to search your house, found the puzzle on your computer. Paula flipped out, accused you of murdering her husband. Accused me of covering it up and helping you frame her for the crime.”

  “There’s an idea.”

  “Cora.”

  “I’m just sayin’. You’re no longer her attorney.”

  Becky pulled out around a slow-moving truck. An oncoming car hit the horn and slammed on the brakes as she pulled back in.

  “What’s the hurry?” Cora said.

  “I want to surrender you before the police pick you up. I got enough problems without Henry Firth arguing you took to flight.”

  “I didn’t take to flight. You flew me. I’d have been happy hanging out at home.”

  “Then they’d have picked you up when I wasn’t your attorney. What would you have done then?”

  “Told them to go to hell.”

  “Right. Which might not have been good for my client. Who at the time wasn’t you.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Cora. Let’s not bicker. What’s done is done. You’re my client now, and it doesn’t look good. You were having an affair with the murdered man.”

  “Allegedly.”

  “You weren’t having an affair with the murdered man?”

  “Well, there’s no reason to concede the point.”

  “I’m your lawyer. I’ll make the legal arguments. Right now I’d like to know what’s true.”

  “You know what’s true. The cops found the puzzle on my computer. I didn’t put it there, I don’t know how it got there. It’s a clumsy-as-hell frame, and I can’t see it holding up in court. Unless the cops have something else.”

  “They have you in the hotel with Roger Martindale.”

  “No, they d
on’t. A substitute desk clerk saw me there once. And not with Roger Martindale. Just in the hotel. And the regular desk clerk never saw me at all.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  “Absolutely. The guy’s star-struck. When Crowley and I questioned him he recognized me as the Puzzle Lady and went nuts. If he’d have seen me before he’d have known it.”

  “You’re saying you weren’t there?”

  “I’m not saying anything. But I am a recognizable celebrity. If I were sneaking off to a hotel to meet a married man, don’t you think I’d make damn sure not to be seen?”

  “The substitute clerk saw you.”

  “He thinks he did. He could be wrong.”

  “Shall I plan my courtroom strategy on that assumption?”

  “Oh, come on. They’re really going to put me on trial?”

  “They released Paula Martindale. You think they did that on a whim?”

  Becky was peeking out from behind a slow-moving Subaru as she negotiated an S-turn.

  “I see your strategy,” Cora said. “If you kill us both, we don’t have to worry about it.”

  “What should I be worried about?” Becky said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Besides the hotel? You have any other little surprises?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Well, it would be nice to know the death penalty’s off the table.”

  “I thought Connecticut repealed the death penalty.”

  “For you they’d bring it back.”

  “There’s no surprises, Becky. That’s all they’ve got. I can’t believe they’re seriously considering trying me.”

  “I can’t, either. But they wouldn’t have let Paula Martindale go if they didn’t think they had a better case against you.”

  “Chief Harper’s not talking?”

  “He’s not talking to me. He might talk to you.”

  “He better.”

  “I’ll send him by the lockup.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “It’s no joke. There’s a bench warrant out for your arrest.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, did I miss that tidbit? That’s why I’m so eager to get you back. Or at least be heading toward Bakerhaven instead of away from it when we get picked up.”

  Cora glanced around. “Now you got me worried. You sure you weren’t followed?”

  “Cops and robbers is your game. I’m not sure of anything.”

  Cora shook her head. “I can’t believe they let her go. I’m just not a good-enough suspect. Not on the evidence. I mean, what have they got?”

  Chapter

  36

  Chief Harper closed the door of the cell. “Sorry about this.”

  “You’re sorry,” Cora said.

  “I have my orders.”

  “Please. Don’t get me started on I-was-only-following-orders.”

  “All right. And I won’t give you the it’s-my-job bit, either. They both happen to be true.”

  “What’s he got on me, Chief?”

  Harper’s eyes shifted.

  “Uh oh. You got orders about that, too?”

  “Henry Firth read me the riot act. He doesn’t like the way this case has developed. He thinks the police work has been substandard. He’s making a big deal about whether I’m a public official or whether I’m working with you.”

  “Oh, for God’s sakes.”

  “I tell you, he’s not happy, Cora. You know how bad it looks, changing defendants in mid-prosecution.”

  “Oh, there’s a concept. Ratface concerned about his looks.”

  “I’m glad you can still joke about it.”

  “I can’t still joke about it. I would like to talk to you about it. Like two friends. Like two colleagues. Like two people who have worked together. But—oh, no—you’re playing this arms-length, Henry-Firth-wouldn’t-want-me-to, and I’m supposed to understand. I’m in jail charged with murder, and I’m supposed to understand.”

  “You had the crossword puzzle on your machine.”

  “Someone planted something in my office. Not a novel concept in the annals of criminal behavior.”

  “There’s other evidence.”

  “What other evidence?”

  “It will all come out in the trial.”

  “I don’t want to go to trial.”

  “That’s not my decision.”

  “You’re saying you can’t help me.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  “Of course I didn’t kill him.”

  “Then you got nothing to worry about.”

  “Now I’m really worried.”

  Chapter

  37

  Rick Reed couldn’t have been happier. “Martindale murder trial, take two!” he proclaimed in a Channel 8 on-camera remote in front of the police station. “That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, in an unprecedented move, County Prosecutor Henry Firth dismissed the charges against Paula Martindale in mid-trial and is proceeding instead against Bakerhaven’s own beloved Puzzle Lady, Cora Felton.”

  The TV cut to a shot of the courthouse steps.

  “I caught up with Henry Firth earlier this afternoon.”

  Rick Reed thrust a microphone in the prosecutor’s face.

  “Mr. Firth, I understand you intend to try Cora Felton for the crime. Do you have the right woman this time?”

  Henry Firth’s response was largely bleeped out.

  “There you have it,” Rick Reed said. “Bakerhaven’s own Puzzle Lady Cora Felton is now charged with the crime. And judging from his first response, the prosecutor isn’t happy about it. One can only wonder, who will he charge tomorrow?”

  “Good point,” Cora said.

  Aaron Grant dropped his taco. He grabbed the zapper, froze the TV. “Oh, my God. Mark it on the calendar. Cora Felton actually believes Rick Reed has a good point.”

  Jennifer, who was having too much fun dropping tacos of her own, missed the opportunity to yell, “Point!”

  Buddy, on the other hand, didn’t miss the opportunity to wolf up the scattered food.

  Sherry took a taco shell off the tray, filled it with lettuce, tomato, meat, cheese, and guacamole. “Of course he has a good point. But don’t give him any credit. Any moron outside of the county prosecutor knows that charging you is stupid.”

  “Let’s just hope twelve jurors agree.”

  “They’re not going to find twelve jurors in Bakerhaven willing to consider you guilty.”

  “They’re not supposed to,” Cora said. “They’re supposed to consider me innocent.”

  “Not because they’re prejudiced in your favor.”

  “That’s not my problem. That’s Henry Firth’s problem. I hope it’s not his only problem.”

  “You can’t find out what they’ve got against you?” Sherry asked.

  “No.”

  “I thought there was such a thing as discovery,” Aaron said.

  “There is. And I can’t wait to see what surprise evidence they ‘discover’ once the trial begins.”

  “Chief Harper will tip you off.”

  “Ordinarily, yes. At the moment, he’d like to keep his job.” Cora took a messy bite of taco. Ground beef and melted cheese dripped down her sleeve. She saw it, quoted Henry Firth.

  “Watch your mouth,” Sherry said. “No one’s bleeping you.”

  “Relax, she’s eating tacos.”

  “Tacos!”

  “See?” Sherry said.

  “Unpause the TV,” Cora said. “I wanna see how I did.”

  “You never cared how you did on TV,” Sherry said.

  “I was never concerned with the jury pool before.”

  The phone rang. Cora went in the kitchen, picked it up.

  It was Becky Baldwin. “I got the witness list.”

  “And?”

  “No surprises. You got the cops, you got the medical examiner, you got the hotel clerk. You got Paula Martindale.”

  “Kill me now.”

/>   “And they got the crossword puzzle on your machine.”

  “It’s a strong case, but not a convicting case,” Cora said. “They need something else. Like my fingerprints on the knife.”

  “You left your fingerprints on the knife?”

  “Of course not.”

  “When Paula Martindale dropped it, you didn’t pick it up?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “It’s a natural reaction. You’re confronted by a distraught woman holding a deadly weapon. Disarming her is a number-one priority.”

  “She disarmed herself.”

  “She dropped the knife on the floor, and then what did you do with it?”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You went in and looked at the body?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Leaving Paula Martindale there with the knife?”

  “No, I took her with me.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why?” Cora said irritably. “What else was I going to do with her? I couldn’t leave her there with the knife, could I?”

  “See?” Becky said. “These are the kind of questions they’re going to throw at you to try to make you look bad to the jury. Getting you angry is just the first step.”

  “Thanks for calling. You’ve made my day. Can I go back to my tacos?”

  “You’re having tacos?”

  “Sorry. I would have invited you, but Sherry gets jealous.”

  “She does not. That’s one of those stories you make up out of whole cloth.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cora said. She hung up the phone, went back in the living room.

  “What’s up?” Sherry said.

  “Becky Baldwin wants to have tacos with Aaron.”

  Chapter

  38

  Henry Firth smiled at the jury.

  “It takes a big man to admit when he’s wrong. As you all know, just last week I was trying someone else for the murder of Roger Martindale. His wife, Paula Martindale, was accused of the crime. And there was certainly plenty of evidence against her. As you will learn, during the course of this trial, that evidence was carefully manufactured by the defendant, Cora Felton, to frame Paula Martindale for the crime. I, like everyone else, was taken in by the evidence and believed that Paula Martindale was guilty.

  “Then new evidence came to light.