Puzzled Indemnity

by Parnell Hall

  Harper’s face was red. A vein in his forehead was beginning to resemble a baseball bat. “Not when all of that talk can be traced back to you. Look, I don’t have time for this. Change the subject or get out of my office.”

  “Well, since you asked me so nicely. What are you working on, Chief, that leaves you no time for my theories?”

  “I have time for your theories. Just not that one.”

  “Only one I got, Chief. And it’s not my theory. Some fireman mentioned it.”

  Harper waved it away. “Yeah, yeah. Moving on. Anyway, the widow’s drugged and Becky’s not talking. Hell of a situation. On the one hand, a prime suspect isn’t talking. On the other, she isn’t refusing to talk.”

  “Which I’m sure you pointed out to Becky.”

  “Yes, I did. She’d love to help me, but she can’t violate a client’s confidence.”

  “Of course not.”

  “But you can. You have to. You have no legal right to hold out. In fact, if you do you’re guilty of obstructing justice.”

  “Come on, Chief. Couldn’t you just ask nicely?”

  “Not when you’re waving firebugs in my face. All right, look. We checked out Hubby’s office in the city. He’s not there.”

  “That’s a bad sign.”

  “No kidding. His coworkers don’t seem to have known him well. He’s been at the firm less than a year. His work was steady, but not inspired.”

  “An insurance salesman not inspiring. I’m shocked.”

  “As for taking out insurance on his wife, if he did, it wasn’t with them. There’s no record of any such policy.”

  “No insurance policy. Gee, I guess the wife didn’t have such a good motive for killing him. Oh, wait a minute. The policy’s on her. So it wasn’t a good motive anyway. Gee, Chief, I don’t see why you can’t wash the wife out entirely.”

  “I probably would if people weren’t so eager to pump her full of drugs. It seems like a guilty reaction to me.”

  “Or a normal reaction when dealing with a spouse who’s had a traumatic shock.”

  “Anyway, if there’s a policy we can’t find it. As for the other woman, we can’t find her, either. No one at the firm suspected he had a girlfriend. Or if they did, they’re not letting on. At any rate, we can’t find her. Which brings me to you.”

  “Ah,” Cora said. “This is where you want me to betray confidential information you can’t get from Becky Baldwin.”

  “There is where I want you to divulge relevant information you have no legal right to withhold.”

  “Mind if I consult Becky about that?”

  “Why in the world would you have to?”

  “You said something about obstruction of justice. Last I checked, that’s a crime. If you suspect me of a crime, I’m consulting an attorney.”

  “Fine. I just spoke to Becky. She’s in her office. Call her and ask her.”

  “Not with you listening, and not on your phone. I’ll run up and be right back.”

  Becky’s office was down the side street over a pizza parlor. It occurred to Cora the pepperoni smelled awfully good.

  Becky was at her desk. “Hi, Cora. What’s up?”

  “Harper wants me to rat out the mistress.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

  Becky shrugged. “I can’t stop you. If he wants the information, he’s entitled to it.”

  “That’s not good. She might mention Hubby was being blackmailed.”

  “That’s entirely likely. You think it might have been wiser not to blackmail him?”

  “In hindsight, it probably would.”

  “In any circumstances I can think of, it probably would. If he wants to know, you have to tell him. I don’t suppose you could head off Melvin so he doesn’t walk in while the cops are there.”

  “Already did.”

  “How’d he take it?”

  “Remember when you found out there was no Santa Claus?”

  “Sure. It was just last week. Listen, I’d be a lot more worried if there were any chance my client had anything to do with this. Aside from no motive, we were talking to the chief when it happened. The only downside here is anything illegal you might have done. Until Chief Harper gets wind of it, let’s not point him in the right direction by claiming you’re my client and refusing to answer questions.”

  “Right,” Cora said.

  Becky looked at her. “Cora, you know all this. You don’t need my advice. You could have handled Chief Harper on your own.”

  “I don’t want to compromise your position.”

  “Never stopped you before. What’s the matter? Melvin make you nervous?”

  “Not at all,” Cora said irritably. She got up, went out the door.

  Cora reported back to Chief Harper. “Okay, I got clearance. On two occasions I followed the gentleman in question from his place of business to a young lady’s apartment. I never saw the woman, but I know she was there on at least one occasion, because I saw her arm close the living room blind. And on both occasions someone buzzed him in.”

  “You never saw the woman?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I find that hard to believe. I’m surprised you didn’t bang on her door.”

  “I was told not to.”

  “And you always do what you’re told.”

  “I did this time. You wanna fault me on it.”

  “Got a name and address?”

  Cora gave it to him.

  “Okay, I’ll run it by the NYPD. Who’s that cop you’re palsy with?”

  “I beg your pardon?’

  “Well, it’s not my jurisdiction, and I don’t have time to do it myself.” Harper snatched up the phone. “Hey, Dan. You know that New York cop friend of Cora’s. Get him on the phone, see if he can go see a woman for us.” He gave Dan the name and address. “It’s got to be in person. It’s the girlfriend. She won’t know he’s dead.”

  “You don’t know he’s dead,” Cora said. “All you’ve got is a charred corpse.”

  “Yeah, but we’re all friends here. We don’t have to say ‘alleged’ every time we refer to the victim.”

  Cora left the police station in a foul mood. She should have seen that coming. Of course Harper wouldn’t check out the girl himself. And who better than Crowley? She should have warned him. Not that he couldn’t handle it himself. But he’d be pissed. Cora didn’t need anyone pissed at her. Particularly not Crowley.

  Damn.

  Chapter

  34

  The phone rang while Cora was in the bath. Cora hated that. For obvious reasons. And for some less than obvious ones. For one thing, it pointed up the fact that the nationally famous Puzzle Lady didn’t have a phone in her bathroom. A lot of celebrities did. Cora thought it was pretty stupid. She could think of a lot of places she’d rather make a call. On the other hand, not having to spring out of the bathtub and run dripping into the other room to answer the phone would be a hell of a plus.

  Cora wondered if there was anyone she wanted to talk to badly enough to do that. Unfortunately, there were a couple of pending phone calls she needed to take. If it was Crowley in a snit, she didn’t dare miss it.

  Cora lunged to her feet, cascades of water shedding from her body as if she were a dolphin at SeaWorld. It occurred to her she had consciously used the image of a dolphin so as not to use the image of Shamu. Cora had put on a couple of pounds lately, making her more than usually self-conscious. She grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her, plunged down the hall.

  It wasn’t the phone in the office; it was the phone in her bedroom. Was that good or bad? She had no idea. It occurred to her for the zillionth time she ought to get caller ID. She plunked down on the bed, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Cora, it’s Chief Harper. I need your help.”

  “You’re a big man to admit it, Chief.”

  “I can’t get Crowley. He’s gone for the day and can’t be reached. I
left a message. He hasn’t called back.”

  “Can’t someone else check it out for you?’

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  “Whoa! I didn’t mean me.”

  “Why not? You know where she lives.”

  “Not the sort of thing I want to let her know.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have no problem prevaricating.”

  “Prevaricating? Did you really say ‘prevaricating’?”

  “I try to load up on big words when I’m talking to you.”

  “Can’t someone else do it?”

  “Come on, Cora. I’d like to keep it in the family. And if this woman’s the mistress, she may not be eager to claim the relationship. In which case you’ll do a better job than your average cop.”

  “Now there’s a recommendation: ‘better than your average cop.’ I’ll put it on my résumé. You know who else will love it? Cops. It’ll leave ’em with a warm, fuzzy glow.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t want to do this. Usually, I can’t stop you from butting in.”

  “You’re full of flattery today, aren’t you? Relax, Chief; I’ll check it out.”

  Cora hung up on the chief and called Becky Baldwin. “Harper wants me to check out the other woman.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I don’t want her to tell me about the blackmail. I wouldn’t want to withhold it from the chief, but I’d have a hard time telling him with a straight face.”

  “See? This is why blackmail is not always a good idea.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I’m heading for the City.”

  “Coming back?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Cora threw on some clothes and went out. Aaron was home, so she wasn’t leaving Sherry stranded. Of course it might have been nice to let her know where she was going, but she didn’t want to advertise the fact, what with Aaron being a reporter and all.

  Cora drove down the Merritt Parkway and plotted her strategy. Never mind what Chief Harper would make of the answers, what was this woman going to think of the questions? What reason in the world could Cora give her for investigating the crime? “Hi, I’m a crossword constructor and I may or may not have bad news for you. A man you know may have been killed. Just what is your relationship with the possible corpse?” That didn’t seem too promising. Cora knew she could do it better, but that wasn’t going to help. All the tact and diplomacy in the world couldn’t alter the fact that she was inquiring into things that were none of her business.

  Snap out of it, she told herself. Look on the bright side. You’re not a cop, so you don’t have to give her a Miranda warning. You can ask any damn thing you want, and she has no legal recourse.

  Except to sue her. For exactly what Cora wasn’t sure, but a lawyer would be able to find grounds.

  Cora beat herself up for most of the drive and came to one conclusion. Actually, she came to several conclusions, but the one she flip-flopped back to by the time she hit Manhattan was that the interview would go much better if someone else conducted it. And while Chief Harper might have wanted her to question the woman, she was actually his second choice. He’d only asked her because Crowley wasn’t answering his phone.

  From experience, Cora knew Crowley didn’t answer his cell phone when he was home.

  She also knew where he lived.

  Instead of getting off the West Side Highway at 79th Street, Cora took it downtown to the West Village. She got off at 18th Street and began the series of loops and turns she had come to know well. From her few months with Crowley, Cora knew the confusing Greenwich Village streets like the back of her hand, and could navigate with nary a flick of an eye intersections such as 10th Street crossing 4th Street, doubtless dreamed up by some diabolical demon from hell expressly for the purpose of freaking potheads out.

  Cora swooped around the final curve, found a parking spot right on Crowley’s block. As she went up the front steps of his brownstone apartment, she wondered should she do this? Was she being presumptuous? Not after the day before. There’s welcoming and there’s welcoming. With one’s clothes scattered in all directions, it was impossible to misconstrue. No, he’d be happy to see her, even if she did need a favor. Not that interviewing the woman was a big deal. He’d have already done it if Harper had been able to reach him.

  Cora hesitated a moment, rang the bell.

  There was no answer. No buzz unlocking the door. No gruff voice asking to know who it was.

  Cora figured she should give him a minute. Maybe he was in the john. She waited a minute, buzzed again.

  The door was pushed open by a middle-aged woman. She was tall and thin, with straight straw-colored hair and faded freckles on her cheeks. She smiled. “You’re Cora Felton, aren’t you? I’ve seen you on TV. Do come in.”

  Cora frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Oh. Crowley’s out. He doesn’t like me to buzz people in without seeing who they are. I mean, there’s only so much you can tell over an intercom.”

  “Who are you?” Cora said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I know you. But we’ve never met.” She smiled. “I’m Stephanie.”

  Chapter

  35

  Cora sat on the couch sipping tea. It occurred to her the living room was the only place in the apartment she had never spent any time.

  “I’ve known him since college,” Stephanie said. “My goodness, seems like yesterday, and now look. He went off and became a policeman, and got married, and it didn’t last. I never got out of the sixties, really. Had a tapestry shop on Bleecker. Still do. But the product’s changed. Along with the clientele. It’s draperies now. Interior designers.”

  Cora felt like her head was coming off. “Did you ever get married?” she asked.

  “Once. To a kindergarten teacher in the public school system. Turned out he didn’t like children. Not that he didn’t want to have them. He didn’t like the ones he taught. Turned into a grouch. I stood it for three years, threw in the towel.”

  “You’re Crowley’s girlfriend,” Cora said.

  Stephanie smiled. “I’m his friend.”

  “His ex-wife seemed to think you were his girlfriend.”

  “Yes. She would. But we’re really just friends.”

  “Friends with benefits.”

  Stephanie grimaced. “I hate that expression. It’s after our time, you know what I mean?”

  “What expression do you like?”

  She shrugged. “We’re friends.”

  There came the sound of the key in the lock. Crowley walked in, saw the women sitting on the couch, and stopped dead. His mouth hung open. He looked like a trout about to be reeled in.

  “Hi, Crowley,” Cora said. “Sit down; have some tea. Stephanie was just telling me about your sex life.”

  Stephanie laughed. “You’re very wicked. You didn’t tell me she was wicked.”

  “What are you doing here?” Crowley said.

  “I assume you’re talking to me,” Cora said. “Of course, I’ve been wrong before. It’s amazing how wrong someone can be.”

  “I don’t understand,” Crowley said. “You mean you just showed up?”

  “You weren’t answering your phone. Not that I called, by the way. I know you never answer. And I had to get in touch with you. So I rang the bell. I had no idea someone else would buzz me in.”

  “I didn’t buzz her in,” Stephanie protested. “I know better than that. I went down to see who it was. Of course I recognized her. It’s not like I let in some stranger off the street.”

  From the look on his face, Crowley might have preferred some stranger off the street. “Oh, of course, of course,” he said, clearly fighting for time. “And you invited her in?”

  “Someone’s dead,” Stephanie said.

  “Hank Wells,” Cora said. “The alleged philandering husband, now the alleged corpse. Who may or may not have blown himself up with a car bomb.”

  “What?”

  Co
ra gave Crowley a rundown of the situation. He latched on to it like a drowning man to a life raft, retreating from the social situation to his field of expertise. “This is the guy you were investigating?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You start investigating him and he blows up?”

  “I don’t think it’s cause and effect.”

  “Most things are. And why did you feel the need to tell me this?”

  “It’s not me. Chief Harper’s been trying to reach you all day. He wants to check out the girlfriend, and he doesn’t have time. He was hoping you’d talk to her.”

  “Why didn’t you do it?”

  “I didn’t want to.”

  “Really? That’s usually right up your street.”

  “I was personally involved. Before the incident.”

  “That’s not a deal breaker.”

  “You wanna argue with me? I didn’t want to do it.” Cora said to Stephanie, “Some men don’t hear women when they tell them they don’t want to do something. It’s the theory on which date rapes are prosecuted.”

  “I’ve heard that,” Stephanie said.

  Crowley exhaled. “Fine. You want me to talk to the woman, I’ll talk to her. Come on. Let’s go.”

  “You want me to go with you?” Cora said.

  “Well, I’m not leaving you girls here together. God knows what you’d be plotting.”

  Chapter

  36

  Crowley drove uptown in silence. Cora studied his profile and wondered how long it would take him to crack. She soon grew tired of the exercise. He was a policeman; he could probably hold out forever.

  “Well, you want to talk about it?” Cora said.

  “Talk about what?”

  “The skinny, straw-haired elephant in the room.”

  “I’ll tell her you said so.”

  “You were with me just the other day.”

  “What’s your point? We live in other towns. Our relationship’s on hiatus. I shouldn’t have other friends?”

  “This is a particular friend.”

  “Damn right she is. And a good one, too. She’s always been there for me. I’ve always been there for her. We have each other’s backs. I’ve known her all my life. I met you just last year. She lives in town and we have things in common.”