by Parnell Hall
Aside from that, the only sixties carryover was the owner herself.
Stephanie’s serene demeanor slipped only slightly when Cora walked in. Then she flashed a smile and went back to dealing with her customer, a stylish young woman in the process of renovating a loft. Cora couldn’t tell if the woman was an interior decorator or the owner herself. Eventually the sale was completed and duly logged into the computer on the counter and the customer left.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Stephanie said.
“Yeah,” Cora said. “I didn’t tell Crowley I was coming.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a long story. But if you got time before your next customer…”
“It’s a walk-in business. I never know.”
“Sounds like a precarious way to live. Must be rather nerve-wracking.”
“The shop’s doing fine. I have online business, too.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah. You looking for drapery?”
“Not at the moment.”
“I didn’t think so. Cora—”
“What?”
“He’s not such a bad guy.”
“Never said he was.”
“I didn’t see him the whole time he was with you. I talked to him occasionally, but I didn’t see him.”
“I’ll list it among my accomplishments.”
“He’s just a little boy.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes!”
“I know. All men are. But in his case, he’s a homicide officer. He deals with death all day long.”
“Must build up an appetite.”
Stephanie glanced at the door. “I’m not sure this is the best place to have this talk.”
“You ever close your shop and go to lunch?”
“I have it delivered. I’m a one-woman show.”
“But you could if you wanted. You got one of those clocks you hang on the door, says: Back at Two?”
“You wanna go to lunch?”
“No.”
“I don’t understand.”
Cora looked her over, nodded. “You do the earth-mother routine rather well. I know. I used to do it myself. You still do.”
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing. Just making a comment. Men like it. Younger men in particular. ‘Wow. An uninhibited peace/love hippie. Probably got some good grass.’” Cora’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God. That’s your Jimi Hendrix poster, isn’t it? Crowley just let me think it was his so he wouldn’t have to mention you. The whole hippie background, that’s your thing. That was never him at all.”
Stephanie said nothing, but she didn’t look pleased.
“I’m not attacking you, and I’m not criticizing,” Cora said. “I’m learning things, and I’m trying to understand. The thing is, you look good. Tall, thin, long hair. You look like the hippie girl guys today wish they’d been around back then to meet.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“I bet even today you could pull the hippie-chick routine, work your wiles on younger men.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“I have a younger man in mind.”
“You’re fixing me up with someone to get me away from Crowley?”
“No. That would be too low, even for me.”
“I don’t understand. Who are you trying to fix me up with?”
“A guy with a bad haircut.”
Chapter
56
Rodney Klein took a sip of scotch and smiled at the older woman sitting next to him at the bar. “What a coincidence,” he said.
Stephanie smiled back. “What do you mean?”
“That you should need insurance. I mean, you sit down next to someone at a bar, and what are the odds they have an interest in your business?”
“I have a tapestry shop on Bleecker,” Stephanie said. She referred to it as “tapestry” rather than “drapery” or “fabric,” to sell the hippie-chick image, the same reason she removed her bra before leaving the shop. She shrugged off her coat to give Rodney the effect of her loose-hanging smock. “I never think of insurance because I have only a few samples in the shop. But there’s the client base. I spent years building it up. Now it’s all computerized and what if the memory gets wiped?”
“You have backups?”
“Yeah, but an order form got accidently deleted, and guess what wasn’t on the memory stick? It was only an order form, no big deal, what if the backup system gets wiped? I have no idea. I need advice.”
“We should set up an appointment.”
“Would that be with you?”
“It certainly would.”
“When would you have time?”
“I’d have to check my appointment book. Ordinarily it would be no problem, but we lost an agent and we’re taking up the slack.”
“You lost an agent? You mean he quit?”
“Ah, actually it’s a little worse than that.”
“Oh?”
“He was killed.”
“No! How?”
“A car bomb.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding!”
“I’m not.”
“It was deliberate?”
“It sure looks like it.”
“Why would anyone kill an insurance agent? No offense.”
“None taken. I have no idea.”
“What do the police think?”
“They don’t know, either. They questioned me this afternoon.”
“As a witness?”
“No. It happened in Bakerhaven, Connecticut.”
“Why did they question you?”
“They’re grasping at straws. They don’t have a clue.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. Nothing to tell.”
“They buy that?”
“It’s the truth.”
“You didn’t know the guy at all?”
“I didn’t know anything about him connected to a crime.”
“No secret girlfriend? No drugs? Damn. Sex and drugs would be fun.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry to speak about your friend like that.”
“We weren’t close. He lived out of town. I saw him at work occasionally.” He shook his head. “Poor guy. As if he didn’t have enough troubles.”
“What do you mean?”
He grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not nice to talk behind someone’s back.”
“Hey. He’s dead. He’s not going to be offended.”
“I guess not. Well, we’re salesmen. If we do well, we get commissions. If we don’t…” He waggled his fingers.
“Your buddy wasn’t a very good salesman?”
“No. It was frustrating for him, because he was perfectly personable. He just couldn’t close. Some people can’t. I’ve never had a problem. But Hank?” He shook his head again
“Are you sure he didn’t have a girlfriend? When it’s not going well, a guy wants a shoulder to cry on.”
“If he did, he didn’t let on.”
“And he never asked you to cover for him?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. Tell his wife he was hung up with a client. Not tell her something.”
He frowned. Took another sip of scotch.
“You thought of something?”
“He ducked out of work one afternoon. But it wasn’t a woman. He went out to buy something. He said not to mention it.”
“Did he tell you what it was?”
“No. Just a present for some kid.”
“He had kids. That’s sad.”
“No, he didn’t have kids.”
“You sure it was for a kid?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you know?”
“Actually, I peeked in the bag.”
“What was it?”
“An Iron Man mask.”
Chapter
57
“I solved your liquor store robbery.”
C
hief Harper looked up from his desk. “What?”
“I know who did it. You can’t arrest him.”
“Who did it?”
Cora flopped down in a chair. “Hank Wells. That’s why you can’t arrest him. He’s dead.”
“Hank Wells robbed the liquor store?”
“That’s right.”
“You have proof?”
“No. That’s another reason you can’t arrest him. But being dead is probably enough.”
“Why in the world would an insurance salesman rob a liquor store?”
“I don’t know. I just know he did.”
“How do you know?”
“Actually, I just suspect.”
“How?”
“There’s a gray area here, Chief. I’m virtually certain he did it, but I can’t tell you how I know. It would get me in trouble.”
“You did something illegal.”
“Chief. You’re asking me to incriminate myself? You haven’t even read me my rights.”
“I have to warn you, I’m in no mood for this.”
“I’m not, either. Nothing about this case is very pleasant. Just between you and me, I don’t like our client much. I’m doing the best I can. And I’ll help you as much as I can without violating anyone’s rights. I’m telling you just as a helpful hint that Hank Wells robbed the liquor store. So you don’t waste your time looking for anybody else.”
“But you must have some reason for thinking that.”
“I do. And I’d feel bad if I didn’t tell you about it.”
“But you’re not telling me about it.”
“I beg to differ. I didn’t bury the lead; I led with the punch line. Hank Wells robbed the liquor store. That’s the important fact. How I know is the unimportant fact. It sheds no light on the situation. What you should be asking is why? That’s the important question.”
“It’s one of them. If you ask Ed James—”
“Who?”
“Owner of the liquor store. If you ask him, the important question is where’s the money? I don’t suppose you have any theories on that?”
“Oh.”
“What do you mean, ‘oh’?”
“‘Theory’ is too strong a word. I have an idea.”
Harper winced. “Please don’t split hairs. You don’t have proof Hank Wells robbed the store, but you still think he did. If you think you know where the money is, I’d sure like to know.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I know Hank robbed the liquor store. I have an idea where the money may be. See the difference? You wouldn’t like it because it’s just a guess. But even if I guess right, you’re still not going to like it.”
“Oh, yeah. So tell me. Where do you think the money is?”
“I think it blew up.”
Chapter
58
Cora wasn’t so reticent with Becky Baldwin.
“Crowley’s girlfriend pumped the witness?” Becky said incredulously.
“Yeah.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Pretty much. And I have to tell you, it’s not a happy high. Withdrawal is no fun, whether it’s alcohol, drugs, or merely smoking.” She snorted. “‘Merely,’ hell. Smoking’s hardest of all.”
“What in the world induced you to use Crowley’s girlfriend?”
“I was in a bind. Crowley blew the interview, and was too stubborn to admit it. I couldn’t talk to the guy; he thought I was working with Crowley. So I had to run in a ringer. My choices were limited. I don’t know a lot of New Yorkers anymore.”
“Melvin was busy?”
“Melvin wouldn’t have worked.”
“I thought Crowley’s girlfriend was a lot older than this guy.”
“Hey. She’s no older than I am.”
“That’s not what I meant. You made her sound like a call girl.”
“Not at all. She’s got a peace/love sixties vibe that would appeal to young men’s fantasies.”
“Earth mother?”
“Exactly. Except on the thin side. Well, not as thin as you.”
“So she picked the guy up. What did Crowley have to say about that?”
“Crowley doesn’t know.”
“You’re kidding!”
“It was an awkward situation. He blew the interview. It was like I went over his head.”
“You conspired with your ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend to keep secrets from him?”
“What’s your point?”
“Cora. That’s not normal. I’m not sure what it is, but Freud would have a field day.”
“Yeah, but he’s dead. Like Hank. I wonder if Freud ever robbed a liquor store.”
“Hank Wells really robbed a liquor store?”
“It’s a good bet. He bought an Iron Man mask, and he didn’t want anyone to know.”
“According to Sergeant Crowley’s girlfriend.”
“Yeah, but you can take it to the bank.”
“You trust her that much?”
“No, but it’s a million-to-one coincidence she made a detail like that up.”
“I suppose,” Becky said. “Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t tell Crowley. He’d have told Chief Harper.”
“Oh.”
Becky’s eyes widened. “You told Chief Harper!”
“I didn’t tell him about Crowley’s girlfriend. Or questioning the witness. Or the Iron Man mask. I didn’t really tell him anything. I just told him he could go on the assumption Hank Wells robbed the liquor store.”
“Oh, great,” Becky said sarcastically. “Just that one minor detail.” Her eyes widened. “Hey! Wait a minute! You saw Chief Harper before you saw me?”
“I thought if I saw you first you’d tell me not to do it.”
“I would have told you not to do it.”
“See?”
“Cora. You’re on my side. You can’t go running to the cops with everything you get.”
“That’s why I didn’t give them everything I got. There’s two cops: Crowley and Chief Harper. I could have told them both everything. Instead, I told one of them one thing. I think that shows admirable restraint.”
“That’s all you told Harper?”
“Well, he asked me where the money from the robbery was.”
“I suppose you told him it was paying my retainer.”
“No, I told him it blew up.”
Becky considered that. “Interesting idea. Why would Hank Wells rob a liquor store?”
“See,” Cora said. “That’s the question Chief Harper needs to answer. Instead he’s all hung up on where I got the idea. Because I was a good girl and didn’t tell him how I got the idea.”
“You’re a saint. Why did Hank rob the liquor store?”
“Best guess he wanted some money his wife didn’t know about.”
“Why did he need it?”
“Because he didn’t expect to blow up.”
“Obviously, but what did he expect?”
“If we knew that, we might know who killed him. There’s just one problem with that.”
“What?”
“If he was trying to squirrel money away from his wife, as a suspect she’s starting to look awful good.”
Becky considered that.
“You gonna tell her about this recent development?” Cora asked.
“I don’t know how she’d react to it.”
“I do. If Hank robbed a liquor store, she’d want you to get the money.”
“That’s not funny.”
“You just have no sense of humor. You gotta lighten up, Becky. Want me to get you a California bun?”
Becky leveled her finger. “Don’t you dare. I had a dream about California buns.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to do the job you failed to do so far.”
“Wow! Are you bending over backward not to treat me with kid gloves because I’m flipping out over a cigarette?”
“Right,” Becky said. “I’m not really upset about you run
ning to Chief Harper; it’s all just a show.”
“I was sure it was,” Cora said. “So what’s the job I failed to do so far?”
“Find the woman. Hank Wells’ girlfriend.”
“Rodney Klein says there wasn’t one.”
“And he’s the best source of the information? What is he? Hank’s golfing buddy? His best man? They grew up together?”
“Okay, who do you think is the best source of information on the subject?”
“How about the woman he was actually seeing?”
“Crowley says she’s not the one.”
“You didn’t trust Crowley’s opinion about the coworker. Why do you trust him on this?”
“The coworker acted guilty.”
“Did this woman act guilty?”
“I haven’t seen her.”
“Aha!”
“You know,” Cora groused. “I liked it a lot better when you were just feeling sorry for me.”
Chapter
59
Madeline Greer’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re the Puzzle Lady.”
Cora Felton smiled. “That’s right.”
“I can’t talk to you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I know why you’re here. About the Hank Wells case. My lawyer said not to discuss it.”
Cora smiled again. “Your lawyer said not to discuss it with the police. I’m not the police.”
“You work with them. I’ve seen you on TV. Talking about the case. Well, not this case. But other cases. And you’re always working with the police trying to prove someone guilty. My lawyer mentioned you specifically. Said not to talk to you.”
“About the case, sure, I understand that,” Cora said. “That doesn’t mean we can’t chat.”
“Yes, it does. He said you’re very smart and you’ll find some way to turn it for your own purpose.”
“Your lawyer flatters me. I’d put that on my Web site, if I had a Web site.”
“You don’t have a Web site?”
“I don’t know how to make one. If I did, I’d just get e-mails with questions about crossword puzzles.”
“You don’t want to talk about crossword puzzles?”
“You ever go up to a doctor at a cocktail party and try to tell him your symptoms?”
“No.”
