$10,000 in Small, Unmarked Puzzles

by Parnell Hall

  24 Search dogs’ quarry

  26 Playground retort

  27 Truth, to bards

  28 Priority in rank

  29 Disney collectible

  31 Off one’s feed

  32 Ready for surgery, perhaps

  33 Cologne’s river

  34 Slacked off

  36 “The Plague” setting

  41 Body shop fig.

  42 “My turn!”

  44 Payment from Ricky to Fred

  46 And the following: Abbr.

  48 Singer at shul

  49 Blustery sort

  53 Easily nettled

  54 Marble hunk

  55 Smoke or salt, e.g.

  56 Big birds raised on farms

  57 Word of warning

  59 More than singular

  60 Cut with a surgical beam

  61 Title role for Julia

  62 Nimble-fingered

  65 __-Blo fuse

  Chapter

  10

  Cora couldn’t believe it. She exhaled slowly, buying time to think. The benign sudoku she could solve had turned into a poisonous crossword that she couldn’t. Which was actually a relief. Now she didn’t have to lie about having seen it before. She had never seen this puzzle before, and how it got on the dead man she couldn’t begin to imagine. She could speak absolutely truthfully to Chief Harper on that score. So, in a way, the crossword was a blessing.

  Except she couldn’t solve the damn thing. How was she going to tap-dance her way out of that? Becky Baldwin knew she couldn’t solve crosswords, although she still believed Cora constructed them. But Chief Harper didn’t have a clue. As far as he knew, she was the Puzzle Lady, a celebrated cruciverbalist, whose puzzle-solving skills had often aided him in the past. He would expect them to do so again.

  What the hell could she do?

  “You say this was found on the body?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Who found it?”

  Harper frowned. “Hey. I’m asking the questions here. And you’re answering them. The more you evade, the more I think you have something to hide.”

  “Ask away. I’m not evading anything.”

  “Here’s a puzzle. It was found on the body. I wanna know, without any evasions or double-talk, did you ever see it before?”

  Cora put up her hand. “Let me get this one, Becky. In the spirit of cooperation, I would like to answer that question as simply and directly as possible. The answer is no. I have never seen it before in my life. Is that clear enough for you?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Good. Can I go now? My niece is in this hospital having a baby, and I wanna be there.”

  “Sherry’s having a baby right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “What were you doing at an abandoned service station if your niece is having a baby?”

  “There again, Chief,” Becky said, “you are taking two unrelated statements and making them codependent. I wouldn’t know how to answer such a question, and I’m certain my client doesn’t.”

  “I don’t,” Cora said. “Can I go now?”

  “You can go soon enough. At the moment, we’re still talking about the puzzle.”

  “Well, I hope you don’t expect her to solve it,” Becky said. “That would be a little much. Arrest her and then ask her to do you a favor.”

  “I don’t need her to solve it.”

  “Oh?”

  “I figured that might be your attitude, so I had Dan Finley run a copy over to Harvey Beerbaum.” Harper whipped out his cell phone, pushed speed-dial. “Dan. You get Harvey? Is he doing it?… Really? Great. I’m in the parking lot with Cora and Becky … No, we did not ID the body … No, we do not know who he is. You ask so many questions you’d think I worked for you.” He snapped the phone shut. “Harvey solved the puzzle. Dan’s on his way over with it.”

  “Then you don’t need us,” Cora said.

  “Don’t you wanna see the puzzle?”

  “Not especially.”

  “A puzzle found with a dead body? Don’t you care?”

  “We get one of those every other week,” Cora said.

  “Well, you can take a look at this one. Here’s Dan now.”

  Dan Finley drove into the lot, spotted the chief. He pulled up, hopped out of the car. “Got it, Chief. Not that it’s gonna help.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s just a stupid rhyme. Unless Cora knows what it means.”

  “Cora’s not being cooperative,” Harper said.

  “Hey,” Cora said. “You make me sound like a sulky ingrate. I happen to have been arrested.”

  “I’m sure the chief didn’t mean it,” Dan said. “You didn’t mean it, did you, Chief?”

  Harper looked ready to explode.

  Becky stepped in suavely. “Since the puzzle’s here, I think we can take a look at it. We’re not obligating ourselves to anything. Cora’s already stated that she’s never seen it before. But we’re perfectly happy to take a look at Harvey Beerbaum’s solution. Isn’t that right, Cora?”

  “Happy is not the word.”

  “Let’s not quibble. We’re willing to take a look, so hand it over.”

  “Here it is.” Dan handed the puzzle to Cora. “It’s got me stumped. What do you think it means?”

  “I think it means someone owes me an apology,” Cora said. “So, what’s the theme entry?” she added, referring to the long answers the puzzle was built around. When confronted with crosswords, Cora always tried to use as many puzzle terms as possible, in order to create the illusion that she knew what she was talking about.

  * * *

  Cora scanned the puzzle. Read the theme entry aloud. “Your number is in there. The centermost square.”

  “What do you think it means?” Harper said.

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “Cora,” Becky warned. She turned to the chief. “I have to agree with Dan. It’s not very helpful.” She pointed to the puzzle. “I mean, look. The center square doesn’t have a number.”

  “It must be referring to something else,” Harper said. “Do you have any idea what that might be?”

  “Not really.”

  “Cora?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “In the past you’ve found connections between crossword puzzles and sudokus.”

  “It’s sudoku.”

  “Huh?”

  “The plural of sudoku is sudoku. If that’s confusing, you can call them sudoku puzzles.”

  “I don’t care what you call them. I just care what they do.”

  “They don’t do anything, Chief. They’re number puzzles.”

  “Cora,” Becky said. “Not so hostile. I think maybe the chief has something to tell us.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Harper said.

  “You’re not about to thrust a sudoku on us and demand to know how it fits in with the crossword?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there doesn’t happen to be one.” Harper narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to know where one was, would you, Cora?”

  Cora drew herself up. “I most certainly wouldn’t. And I resent the implication.”

  “What implication?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever implication you were implying.” Cora shook her head. “It’s been a long day. You wanna give me a copy of this, and any other puzzles you might happen to find, I’m willing to check on them. But for the time being, I looked at the body, I made a full and frank statement. So, unless you wanna arrest me again, I’m gonna go see my niece.”

  Chapter

  11

  Cora found Aaron hanging out in the upstairs corridor. “Am I too late? I’ll never forgive myself if I’m too late, but you wouldn’t believe what happened. I can’t tell you most of it, but some I can, and you’ll probably want to print it.” She broke off at the look on his face. “What’s the matter?”

  “There are complications.”

 
; “Complications? You mean the baby isn’t born yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “The doctors threw me out.”

  “Why?”

  “It a breech.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a breech birth. The baby’s turned the wrong way.”

  “So, what are they doing?”

  “The doctors are trying to turn the baby. If they can, she can still deliver normally. Otherwise, she’ll have a C-section.”

  “That’s not dangerous these days.”

  “No, but it stresses the baby. And it’s premature anyway. A lot of things can go wrong.”

  Cora took him by the shoulders. “Yeah. But they’re not going to. She’s in the hospital. Under a doctor’s care. Things are going to go right.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Aaron held up his iPhone. “You know how many things can go wrong in a breech birth? The umbilical cord gets wrapped around the baby. An arm or leg gets broken trying to turn it.”

  Cora snatched the iPhone from his hand. “That’s the problem with the information age. Too much information.” She thrust the phone deep into her floppy, drawstring purse.

  “Hey, I need that.”

  “No, you don’t. You can have it back when your baby’s born. I gotta keep you off the Internet before you drive yourself nuts. Where’s Sherry?”

  “In the OR.”

  “OR? Good God, I don’t know what happened to language these days. It’s your damn phone. Everything sounds like a text message. I assume the OR is where they operate.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Through there.”

  “Fine.” Cora made for the door.

  “You can’t go in there.”

  “Oh, yeah? Who’s gonna stop me?”

  Actually, it was two orderlies and a scrub nurse. They deposited Cora unceremoniously in the corridor, stationed a security guard in the doorway to discourage any other visitors, and went back to rescrub.

  “Told you,” Aaron said.

  Cora commented on the hospital’s lack of hospitality.

  “Did you see Sherry? Did you see anything?”

  “Not a damn thing. Except a bunch of ruffled feathers. You’d think I’d breached the War Room.” She made a face. “Didn’t mean to say breach. Insensitive.”

  A doctor squeezed past the security guard out into the corridor. A surgical mask hung from his neck. He flinched slightly at the sight of Cora, and walked up to Aaron Grant.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s fine. The baby’s fine. We’re going to do a Caesarian section. Anything else is too risky for the baby. But this is just routine. We can do a bikini cut, she’ll still look good in a bathing suit.”

  “You think I care about that now!” Aaron cried. He controlled himself. Still breathing heavily, he said, “If you’re operating on her, what are you doing out here?”

  The doctor smiled. “I came to get you. At this point, it’s a routine surgery. You can be there for the delivery.”

  Cora opened her mouth.

  “Just the husband,” he added quickly.

  Chapter

  12

  Cora found Becky waiting in the lobby.

  “What’s happening?” Becky said.

  “Sherry’s having a C-section. The baby’s a breech. Aaron’s in there with her.”

  “Why did you have me wait?”

  “We have a problem.”

  “No kidding. I need to get back to the office.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Come outside.”

  Becky followed Cora out front. “All right, what is it?”

  Cora grimaced. “Well, I didn’t tell you everything.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a complicated case. So many little details.”

  “What little detail are you referring to?” Becky said.

  Cora told Becky about finding the sudoku on the dead man’s body.

  “That’s a little detail?” Becky said incredulously.

  “Let’s not quibble over size. The point is, I found a sudoku on the body. Miraculously, it changed into a crossword puzzle.”

  “That’s why you were asking Chief Harper about a sudoku.”

  “I was afraid he was going to spring it on me. Ask if I’d ever seen it before.”

  “At which point, as your lawyer, I would have been able to advise you how to answer the question,” Becky said dryly. “If I’d known about it. As things stood, I wouldn’t have had a clue.”

  “It’s a moot point. He didn’t ask.”

  “Yeah. Why do you suppose he didn’t?”

  “Only one thing I can figure.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He didn’t find it.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I have a theory.”

  “I’m sure you do. Care to share it?”

  “When I found the sudoku I was in a bit of a spot. I was tempted to take it. But I already had the blackmail money on me. It didn’t seem like a good time to be caught removing evidence from a crime scene.”

  “Just what is a good time to be caught removing evidence from a crime scene?” Becky said dryly.

  “So I stuck it back in his pocket for Chief Harper to find. Only when he does it’s a crossword puzzle. Which is nice, because I could honestly say I never saw it.”

  “Forget all that. Where’s the sudoku?”

  “Well, either Chief Harper found it and isn’t letting on, or it’s still in the coat.”

  “Which the cops searched.”

  “Right.”

  “How can that be?”

  “I’ve got no idea. But it’s gotta be one or the other.”

  “Anyone else at the crime scene who could have taken it?”

  “Just Dr. Smarty-Pants.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He wouldn’t.”

  “So it’s gotta be the cops.”

  “Unless it isn’t.”

  Becky looked at Cora in exasperation. “What’s your point?”

  Cora jerked her thumb at the hospital. “Barney Nathan.”

  “What about him?”

  “You think he’s gay?”

  Becky stared at her. “What?”

  “Do you think Barney Nathan’s gay?”

  “He’s got a wife and kids.”

  “Not always a deal breaker. But he’s married?”

  “You didn’t know that?”

  “I only keep track of the marital status of potential suitors.”

  “And Barney isn’t?”

  “I have a habit of pointing out flaws in his autopsies. After three times, men don’t usually ask you out. So, Barney’s heterosexual.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “And you’re the impossible dream. Every man’s secret fantasy. The stunning supermodel, too pretty to approach.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Cora made a face. “Come on. Just because you look like a beautiful airhead doesn’t mean you have to think like one. You’re a lawyer. Think like a lawyer.”

  “Why? What do you want?”

  “I want you to seduce Barney Nathan.”

  Chapter

  13

  Dr. Barney Nathan was washing his hands in the morgue sink.

  Becky Baldwin stuck her head in the door. “Excuse me?”

  The doctor looked up. Frowned. “What is it?”

  Becky pushed her way into the room. “Sorry to bother you. I just have a couple of questions.”

  Barney shook his head. “That’s not appropriate. You’re a lawyer. I’m the medical examiner.”

  Becky leaned in, gave him her hundred-watt smile. “This is strictly off the record. Just between you and me.”

  The top button of her blouse popped open. This was not unexpected. Cora had unbuttoned the button halfway so the slightest pressure would finish the job. Whi
le hardly revealing, the effect was wildly suggestive.

  Barney blinked. “Off the record?”

  “Absolutely.” Becky put her hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea. Cora’s my client, but she’s … well, Cora. You know what I mean?”

  “I certainly do.”

  “But I would prefer if that didn’t put a strain between us. It’s a small town. We all have to live here.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’d like to come to an understanding. Could I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  “I have to finish the autopsy.”

  “You look like you’re done.”

  “I still have to write it up. Bag his things for the police.”

  “Don’t the police already have the evidence?”

  “They have the evidence. They want his clothes. I don’t know why. I suppose you could get DNA from them.” Barney made a face. “See, that’s why I shouldn’t be talking to you. That’s the type of thing you’d pick on in a trial. Why the cops didn’t have it sooner.”

  Becky smiled. “And I’d have to testify it was my fault because the reason was I was buying you a cup of coffee. Come on, Barney. Cora Felton’s giving you a hard time? I could tell you a few things about her.”

  Barney Nathan was smiling as they went out.

  Cora waited until the elevator door closed on them, then slipped out of the medical supply closet and made her way down the corridor.

  The door to the morgue was locked.

  Damn. She should have had Becky wedge something in it on her way out to keep it open. Not that Becky wouldn’t have balked at the idea. It had been hard enough persuading her to buy the doctor a cup of coffee.

  She had to pry the lock. Impossible to do without leaving a trace, but there was no help for it. The cops would know someone had broken in, they just wouldn’t know why.

  With luck, they wouldn’t know who.

  Cora looked around for something to jimmy the door. Nothing sprang to mind. The corridor seemed remarkably devoid of burglary equipment.

  Her eyes lit on the door of the medical supply closet. There must be something in there. A scalpel, a forceps, a set of lock picks, or something.

  Cora hurried to the supply room door, flung it open.

  A janitor came around the corner. He stopped and frowned. Cora Felton didn’t look like a doctor or a nurse. She looked like a snoopy old lady poking around in the medical supplies.