Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 01 - Bogey Nights

by Marja McGraw

  “Would you please tell us everything you can about Charles and what was going on?” I asked.

  “There’s not an awful to tell. We’d been writing to each other since my parents and I moved away. His letters were usually short, but I was always glad to hear from him. I had kind of a kid’s crush on him for a long time. I used to tell my friends that he was my boyfriend. I was young and silly, and he was a little older and handsome. I used to tell him all the latest jokes in my letters. He got a kick out of that.”

  “Did your friend, the cousin, tell you that we’d found some unopened letters that had been hidden?” Chris asked.

  “No, but that doesn’t surprise me. I talked to him on the telephone once, and when I mentioned a letter I’d sent him, he said he’d never received it. After that there were a couple of letters that he never responded to.”

  “I gather from one of the hidden letters – one that you’d written to him – that he’d said something to you about problems at the boarding house. Is that correct?” Chris asked.

  “It is. He said there were two women living in the house and that one of them seemed to like him – too much. He said she’d started leaving him notes about how much she cared for him. He tried to ignore them. Then he started receiving threatening notes, but it was in a different handwriting. In those days no one called it stalking, but looking back, that’s what I’d call it. It’s just a guess, but I think all of the notes were from the same person, even if the handwriting was different. He also said that a couple of times the things in his dresser drawers seemed out of order, like someone had been going through his belongings.”

  “Were there any other problems?” Chris asked.

  “Actually, there were. With two women and three men in the house, things got a little uncomfortable. The men were, well, kind at each other’s throats. One of the women was nice to all of them, and the other one was always trying to make them jealous of each other. It seemed to be working, because Charles said he’d had a huge argument with one of the other men.”

  “Did he say anything else?” I asked.

  “No. I wrote and asked him for more details, but I never heard from him again.”

  “Did he give you any names?” Chris asked.

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Did he tell you which woman was which? I mean, did he tell you if the trouble-maker was his landlord or the other woman?”

  “No. Charles only told me the circumstances. I wish I could be more help, but that’s about all I know. I was worried about him, but there was nothing I could do. I called his cousin, Jeanne, and she alerted his sister, but from what Jeanne told me later, Charlotte had already figured out he was missing.”

  “Is there anything else you’d like to add?” I asked.

  “Not really. I only hope you can find out who killed Charles. He knew I had a crush on him, but he wrote to me anyway. Like I said, I was younger than he was. He was a kind and gentle man, and he didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  “We’ll ask Charlotte to let you know what we find out,” I said. “And thank you so much for your help. You’ve actually cleared up a few things for us. At least now we have some idea of what was going on in that house.”

  “I told Charles he should move out of there,” Sarah said.

  ***

  On Thursday morning we sent Mikey off to school with a promise that his bags would be packed for his trip to his grandparents’ house when he got home. My son was one of those kids who never missed a day of school, so when Grandma Linda called late on Wednesday night, I agreed to take him out of school on Friday so they could have a longer weekend together. They would pick him up after he came home from school and leave for a weekend of camping.

  I was cleaning up the breakfast dishes when I realized that I hadn’t seen the papers Chris had left on the table on Tuesday – his notes about Dudley Long.

  “Chris,” I said, “did you pick up the papers you left here on Tuesday? The research papers you were doing about Dudley Long?”

  “No. I thought you’d moved them out of the way when you were cleaning.” He set down the newspaper and began looking through stacks of other papers, the ones having to do with the new restaurant.

  I joined him and started going through everything I could find. Nothing. “You don’t think someone could have been in the house again, do you?”

  “I don’t think so. It seems like everything is the way we left it. Wait a minute. Let me go take a look at the stuff around the computer.” He left the room, looking puzzled and uncomfortable.

  When he returned, the look on his face made me feel uncomfortable.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  “Yeah, something’s definitely wrong. Everything I researched is gone. And the side window is broken. Someone broke in and took what I had. I can find it again, but this adds another degree of difficulty. Call Janet and let her know. I’m going outside to look around the house.”

  I called Janet and told her the house had been broken into again. I told her what had been taken.

  “I don’t get it,” she said. “The few people who are left are too old to be breaking and entering. I shouldn’t say that. You’d be surprised what a senior citizen can do when they put their mind to it. Do you have any idea when the house was broken into?”

  “It had to have been Tuesday. Thinking back, I don’t remember seeing the papers that were in the kitchen when we sat down to eat that night.”

  “And you were with Chance on Tuesday.”

  “I was. You know, I forgot to ask her if she’d told anyone else about our investigation. I’m going to call her right now. I’ll get back to you, Janet.”

  “Okay, but I’m going to send someone over to check for fingerprints. The chances of finding anything useable are slim, but it’s worth a try.”

  Chris hadn’t returned yet, so I picked up the phone and dialed Chance’s apartment. She answered right away, but her voice sounded like I might have awoken her.

  “Hello? Who is it?” she asked.

  “Chance, this is Pamela. I need to ask you a question, and it’s really important.”

  “Hello to you, too. Okay, ask.”

  “Have you told anyone about our investigation? Are you still in touch with any of the old boarders?”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Wasn’t I supposed to tell anyone?”

  “We never told you not to, but if you did, I need to know who you talked to.”

  “Well, I was in the recreation room for dinner one night and I mentioned it to that group that plays poker. That stupid Shelly said she thought I was making it up, that there probably never was a murder. Stuart and Jim seemed interested though. But Shelly made me mad and I left without eating.”

  “Anyone else?” I asked.

  “I told Alice,” she said.

  “You know where Alice is? We understood she disappeared.” This was a major revelation to me.

  “Of course, I know where Alice is. I don’t like her, but she’s changed in her old age and she’s tolerable now. We don’t talk often, but since your little investigation has to do with the boarding house, I thought she might be interested.”

  “The police told us she’d vanished, pretty much without a trace. Can you explain that?”

  “Well, Alice got married after she moved out of the boarding house. She and her husband moved to France for several years, and when he died, Miss La De Da moved back here. Her name isn’t Alice Frye anymore.”

  “What’s her name now?”

  “I don’t remember. I’d have to look in my address book.”

  Was she playing her bad memory game with me, or had she really forgotten?

  “What about her telephone number? Can you give that to me?”

  “Like I said, I’ll have to look at my address book. Quit being so pushy. Why don’t you come over tomorrow and I’ll give you her name, her address and her phone number.” Chance’s voice was beginning to sound irritated.

  “Okay, I�
�ll be over tomorrow.”

  We hung up and Chris finally came inside.

  “What took you so long?” I asked.

  “I visited our next door neighbors and asked if they heard anything. They did. Denise said she heard the dogs barking. You know our dogs hardly ever bark. Anyway, by the time she walked from the back of the house to our side, the dogs had quieted down. She didn’t see anything unusual, except a broken window! She figured Ace and I had been playing ball or something, and broken it. She said she’d noticed it the other day, which I figure would have been the day of the other break-in. She didn’t know about the other break-in because she never saw the police show up here. She’d gone to visit her mother and stayed the night. I’ll board up that window until we can get it replaced.”

  “Well, I’ve got news, and this one will make your day,” I said.

  “What’s up?” Chris asked.

  “Alice is no longer among the missing.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “What? You found Alice? When? Where?” Chris sounded as surprised as I’d felt when Chance mentioned still being in touch with her old friend.

  “She and Chance still talk from time to time, if you can believe that. I’m going over to Chance’s tomorrow to get the address and phone number.”

  “I wonder why Janet couldn’t find her.”

  “Because Alice married and moved out of the country. Remember, her social security number wasn’t in the ledger. So all Janet had was her maiden name. And I would imagine that Alice Frye is probably a somewhat common name.”

  “It is. When I did a search on the computer for her, a whole slew of Alice Fryes turned up, but none of them appeared to be the one we’re looking for.”

  “I called Janet and she’s going to have someone come out to check fingerprints, but she didn’t think they’d find anything useful. I’d better call her back later and tell her about Alice. I don’t want to bug her or call her too often.”

  Chris returned to the office and his Internet searches, while I wandered out to the backyard to play with the dogs. I hadn’t been giving them enough attention lately and I felt guilt about it. I’d call Janet later.

  Labrador retrievers are called retrievers for a reason. They love to fetch things and bring them back. Mine each have a favorite toy, so I picked up Sherlock’s stuffed duck and Watson’s thingamajig, which looked like a giant worm and quacked like a duck when you squeezed it, and began throwing them for the dogs. Bred to retrieve birds, both dogs had “soft” mouths and handled their toys gently. However, when we switched to tug-of-war, that all changed. I spent a good half hour playing with them before giving them a break. Giving them a break equates to me resting.

  I called Chris out to the kitchen and suggested he take a break, too, so we sat at the table with mugs of coffee in front of us.

  “I don’t understand why someone would take those research pages,” I said. “They had to know you could look the information up again.”

  “Unless it was a delaying tactic.” Chris picked up his mug and took a swallow, then added a little sugar. “Or maybe they figure with enough roadblocks we’ll give up and go away. I think everybody in this city realizes how understaffed the police department is, and they may figure old murders would take a backseat to current crimes.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Let’s take the dogs for a walk,” Chris said. “I do my best thinking when we walk. Come on.”

  “You take them. I’m tired. They wore me out.”

  “Come on.” Chris took hold of my hand and pulled me up. “By the time we’re done, it’ll be time to go see Freddi. Your reward for going on the walk with me and the dogs will be those old photos.”

  “You ol’ silver-tongued devil, you.” I let him pull me up and we called the dogs inside so we could put leashes on them.

  Sherlock and Watson were loose leash trained as puppies, and it turned out to be one of the smartest things we ever did. Labs grow big and they grow strong. I’d seen a woman at the dog park pulled down twice because the dog hadn’t been trained. Our dogs walked without pulling on their leashes. I frequently told them what a good girl and boy they were while walking.

  The exercise did me good, and it cleared my head. I actually felt myself relaxing, which surprised me because I hadn’t realized how stressed out I was.

  “Chris, why don’t we take a day off? Let’s go see Freddi and then come home and relax. Maybe we’d think more clearly with a day of rest.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  “I’ll call Constance and tell her that we’ll pick Mikey up after school. We can take him with us to Daniel’s.”

  “Good idea. We haven’t spent enough time with Ace over the past few days. You know that kid, he’ll enjoy going with us. He’ll feel like part of the team.”

  I chuckled. “He sure likes his new nickname. Mrs. Stanhope is upset because he’s asking the other kids to call him Ace.”

  “Mrs. Stanhope can take a – ”

  “Now, Chris,” I interrupted, “Mrs. Stanhope is an older woman, probably close to retirement. And she’s not used to children in her class having parents who’ve become involved in murder. Besides, she’s not representative of the majority of teachers. Next year he’ll have someone new – someone who’d probably laugh at his antics.”

  “Yeah, there is a positive side to this. I can’t wait until next year, and I’ll bet Ace can’t either.”

  We finished our walk and put the dogs in the backyard, making sure they had fresh water. I gave them each a treat for being so well-behaved, too. Watson licked my hand, and when I squatted down to pet her, she panted in my face. There’s nothing quite like the scent of doggie breath in the morning.

  Chris and I turned on an old movie and decided to bring the dogs inside. Sherlock curled up by my feet, as much as a large dog can curl, and immediately began snoring. Watson decided Chris needed attention, too, and she licked one of his shoes with gusto. I didn’t want to think about what might be on that shoe.

  “Would you quit it?” Chris said irritably, pushing her away. She hung her head and Chris called her back, scratching her back to make up to her. “Just leave my shoes alone, girl.”

  We both fell asleep about half way through the movie. When we woke up, the movie was over, so we had tomato soup and BLT’s for lunch. I gave the dogs each another treat and put them back outside.

  While I read a mystery I’d been working on, Chris called a couple of agencies about bands. We really had to find a group soon.

  And suddenly it was time to pick Mikey up at school. The day had gone by too quickly.

  Mikey was excited to find out he was going to see Freddi with us. “Finally,” he said. “I get to go on a stakeout with you guys.” Chris had been right about our son feeling like part of the team.

  “This isn’t a stakeout, Ace. Freddi is going to show us some photos from the old days.”

  “Photos? Is that all? I thought we were going to do some detecting.” Mikey’s excitement turned into disappointment in a flash.

  “That’s part of detecting,” Chris told him. “It’s not all car chases and skulking in alleys or ducking down in cars so you can watch someone. A lot of it is boring. You have to find clues to solve a mystery. And that’s why we’re going to see Freddi. We’re looking for clues, and her pictures might hold a few.”

  I thought Chris was blowing the pictures out of proportion, but Mikey suddenly seemed more interested.

  “Yeah, clues. That’s what a good private eye would do,” my son said.

  Freddi was delighted that we brought Mikey along. “I have a grandson about your age, Mikey.”

  “You can call me Ace,” Mikey said proudly.

  “Ace, huh? Sounds like a mighty fine nickname to me. Come sit at the bar and I’ll find a soft drink for you. Do you like peanuts?”

  Mikey and Freddi headed behind the bar, hand in hand. I’d never seen him take to anyone quite as quickly as he’d taken to Freddi. Fortun
ately, my son is usually a good judge of character. She showed him where the peanuts were and handed him a bowl to fill. He did so and set it on the bar before walking back around and climbing up onto a barstool.

  “Huh. So this is what a bar looks like.” He glanced around, trying to appear as grown up as possible, nodding his head up and down slightly.

  “Well, this is more of a cocktail lounge,” Freddi said, “and you won’t want to hang out in bars when you’re older. When you’re older, and if you want a drink, find yourself a nice quiet little cocktail lounge, not a dirty ol’ bar.”

  “That’s something you won’t be thinking about for a very long time, Ace.” Chris made that sound like a very definitive statement.

  “I tasted beer at Danny’s house once, and I didn’t like it,” Mikey said. “I don’t think I’ll probably be a drinking man.”

  “Okay,” I said, having heard enough about booze and bars, “no more beer at Danny’s house and let’s move on to other things. Freddi, did you bring the pictures?” Danny’s mother and I would be having a talk.

  She pulled an album out from under the bar. “Sure did. My grandfather was so proud of this place. He took pictures, wrote on the pages who was in them and included the dates. You should find what you want in here.” She patted the album’s cover before sliding it over to me.

  I felt like she was giving me the album and I glanced up at her questioningly.

  “I have a dentist appointment that I have to keep, so I’m going to lend you the album. You can bring it back when you’re done.” She smiled. “If you don’t bring it back, I’ll know where to find you. By the way, what’s the name of your place?”

  “We’re thinking of calling it Bogey Nights,” Chris said.

  Freddi thought about that for a moment, appearing to let it roll around in her mind. She leaned forward and looked Chris in the eye. “I like it. It’s memorable and it suits your theme. And after seeing you, nobody will be able to forget it.”

  She picked up her purse and a hat, and walked back around the bar. Holding her hand out to Mikey, she said, “It’s been a pleasure, Ace. Maybe one night when I visit your parents’ restaurant, you and I can have dinner together.” She plunked the hat on her head at an odd angle and fished in her purse for keys.