Cozy (Stanley Hastings Mystery, #14)

by Parnell Hall

  After that were a couple I didn’t know, a man and woman who presumably had stopped in for dinner and weren’t even staying at the inn. They were followed by the two men who could be gay, another couple presumably just there for dinner, and the man and woman with the little girl.

  The little girl herself was not interrogated. That struck me as a wise, humane move. It also occurred to me, when the dust had cleared and the case was finally solved, it would probably turn out that she had had the key clue all along.

  After that came Alice.

  She set a record, sixteen and a half minutes.

  I sat there feeling most uncomfortable. Not that I was worried about what she was saying. It’s just as the interview stretched on, the grumbling in the dining room became less and less restrained. The sentiment was abundantly clear—who the hell was she, and why was she so all-fired important?

  Finally Alice emerged, which meant Florence would be next—at all the tables Sad Sack had been observing ladies first, part of his annoyingly mannered Emily Post routine.

  I hoped Florence would be quick. Though, from what I’d observed, she seemed even more likely to gossip than Alice.

  However, I was not to find out.

  “Mr. Hastings?” Sad Sack said. He smiled and gestured toward the booth. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  14.

  EVEN THOUGH I had not yet said a word, somehow I expected the cop to begin with “Just one more time.”

  He didn’t.

  He said, “You’re a private detective?”

  Oh, dear. I’d been afraid of that. Alice had bragged about me.

  “Is that what my wife told you?”

  “Among other things.”

  “I see,” I said. “Did she tell you what type of private detective?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Did she mention I work for a negligence lawyer?”

  “No, I don’t believe she did.”

  I groaned. “Then I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong impression.”

  “Oh?”

  “I work for a personal-injury lawyer who handles negligence cases. Mainly trip-and-falls. I drive around New York City interviewing accident victims and photographing cracks in the sidewalk.” I smiled. “Now, if Alice has told you I have an expertise in murder cases, you have to take it with a grain of salt. It’s really a matter of circumstance, and not me. I must say, I have always found the police to be much more clever and resourceful than I am. If Alice has been telling you not to worry because I’m here to solve your murder case for you, I assure you it’s just a case of a wife being somewhat overzealous in praising her husband’s professional skills. I’m really no expert, and my accomplishments are minimal. So I hope my wife hasn’t been boring you with tales of my exploits.”

  The cop cocked his head, looked at me sideways. “Actually, she hasn’t, Mr. Hastings. She did mention you did negligence work—in fact, she told me all about it. She just didn’t say you worked for an attorney. I believe she described you as being self-employed.” He frowned, squinted at me. “But the idea that you have a knack for solving murder cases—and, do I understand you correctly, that you might help me with this one?—that certainly is a fascinating premise. Though your wife didn’t mention it at all.”

  I rubbed my head. Oh, dear. That ought to teach me to lead with my chin.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have let you do the talking. Please, go ahead.”

  “No, no. I find this immensely interesting. Would you care to illuminate on how you’ve managed to be of use to the police?”

  “I’d rather be shot dead.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “I was trying to downplay my worth as an investigator. I’d assumed my wife had been in here singing my praises.”

  “Well, she wasn’t. At least, not in that manner. I don’t mean to imply your wife is not proud of you. She just never made that particular suggestion.”

  “I get the point.”

  “Good. Then, please, fill me in. How did you come to acquire such a working knowledge of police procedure that you were afraid your wife might be inclined to brag about it?”

  I took a breath. “My detective work has sometimes led me into criminal cases. Not often, but enough that I’ve become acquainted with a few homicide cops.”

  “Really? And you’ve helped them solve crimes?”

  “I’d say I’ve watched them solve crimes.”

  “Excellent,” the cop said. “And now you’d like to watch me solve this one?”

  “Is it a crime?”

  “It is indeed. I’m Chief Pinehurst, by the way. You’ll want to know that, of course, the next time you’re listing your accomplishments.”

  I took a breath. Refrained from comment.

  “Anyway, getting back to what your wife said. She wasn’t promoting you so much as an investigator as a witness.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes. Oh. Do you suppose you could elaborate on that?”

  “I assume my wife has done a fairly good job.”

  “That she has. Still, we do prefer eyewitness accounts to hearsay.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. Could you tell me what you saw?”

  “I saw the decedent kissing a young man.”

  “Decedent?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not in court, and no one’s taking this down. You don’t have to be so formal. You can call her by name.”

  “I’m blanking on her name.”

  “You’re blanking on her name?”

  “I have trouble with names.”

  “And you’re a private detective?”

  Good lord. No wonder the interrogations had taken so long.

  “I’m not a private detective by choice. It’s a job. I admit I’m not as qualified as I might be.”

  “And yet you manage to assist the police. How extraordinary.” Chief Pinehurst consulted his notebook. “The young woman’s name is Christine Cobb. Was that the young woman you observed kissing someone?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “And who would that person be? The person she was kissing?”

  “That would be the busboy, Randy. Who, I understand, is the son of the people who run the inn.”

  “Louise and Charles Winthrop. Well, that certainly is interesting. You observed Christine Cobb and Randy Winthrop having a romantic encounter?”

  “I saw them kissing.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “That’s all I saw. And only for a moment. I withdrew immediately.”

  “What do you mean by immediately?”

  “A matter of seconds. As soon as I saw who it was, I left.”

  “Why?”

  “So as not to embarrass them.”

  “I see. How come you say only a few seconds?”

  “That’s all it was. I saw them there. I recognized her first. I thought she was with her boyfriend. Then the light fell on his face, and I saw who it was.”

  “Which is when you left?”

  “That’s right.”

  “To save them embarrassment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because she was kissing another man?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “So, if it was her boyfriend, Lars, she’d been kissing, you would have stayed?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “But you just said the reason you left was because she was kissing another man.”

  I said nothing.

  “Was that statement false?”

  “It was not.”

  “That statement was true?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “So, if you left because she was kissing another man ...”

  “It does not imply I would have stayed if she wasn’t. It’s faulty logic. The one thing does not imply the other. I left because she was kissing another man. I would have also left if she had been kissing Lars.”

  “But you didn’t leave until you saw who she was kissi
ng. Is that correct?”

  “I saw who she was kissing.”

  “And not at first. Isn’t that what you said? You recognized her first. Then the light fell on his face, and you saw him.”

  “That’s right.”

  “That’s right?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “That doesn’t jibe with your current statement.”

  I blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You maintain it makes no difference to you who she was kissing, you would have left in any case. If that were true, you would not know who she was kissing, because you would have left before you found out.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sakes.”

  “You have a quarrel with that logic?”

  “I find it hard to follow.”

  “Oh? Well, let’s go over it one more time.”

  I put up my hand. “Let’s not. I see the point you’re making. It’s a good one. Possibly even a great one. It may well crack the case. I admit I am incapable of explaining my inexplicable tardiness in leaving the scene of the decedent’s assignation.”

  “Well said.” Chief Pinehurst nodded approvingly. “Very impressive. You rattled that off quite expertly. The only slight fumble was forgetting the victim’s name and having to refer to her as the decedent.” He rubbed his head, pursed his lips, frowned. “Though I can’t say I join you in characterizing your behavior as inexplicable. There is indeed a perfectly logical explanation that springs to mind.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Natural curiosity. You saw the woman kissing someone, you wanted to know who. While it did not matter who she was kissing, with regard to your intention to leave, still you wanted to know who it was before you did.”

  “If that’s so perfectly obvious, I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal of it.”

  “Because you did. I asked for your reason, and you couldn’t give me one. If you’d just said, I wanted to see who it was, I would have found that perfectly natural. And we wouldn’t be discussing it now. But you, perhaps embarrassed by your own natural curiosity, decline to do so.”

  I took a breath. “Tell me, Chief, are you punishing me for being a private detective?”

  “Not at all. I’m just trying to get your story. It’s always difficult when a witness is evasive.”

  I took another breath. “Believe me, I’m not trying to be evasive. In fact, if I could get a word in, I’d like to volunteer something.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  I told him about talking to Christine/Inga at Glen Ellis Falls. Of course, I didn’t call her Christine/Inga—explaining why would have sent the investigation off on another unproductive tangent. But I told him everything else.

  “Interesting,” Pinehurst said. “So the young lady was actually aware that you had seen her.”

  “Yes, she was.”

  “Somewhat extraordinary, considering what a brief time you were there. At least, according to your account.”

  “It was a brief time.”

  “Yet long enough to be seen. And Miss Cobb asked you not to tell anyone?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Which you promised to do. Although, at the time, you had already told everyone.”

  “That’s not true. I’d told my wife.”

  “Which had the same effect.” He cocked his head, raised an eyebrow. “Your wife didn’t mention this incident.”

  “That’s because she didn’t know about it.”

  “You withheld this from your wife?”

  “I didn’t withhold it. I hadn’t had an opportunity to tell her.”

  “Oh? When did the incident occur?”

  “Early this afternoon.”

  “Uh-huh. And you say you left your backpack and had to go back and get it?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So, you went back down the hill, found your backpack, and encountered Miss Cobb. She recognized you as the person who had seen her kissing Randy Winthrop. She asked you not to tell anyone. Which you promised to do. Although, in point of fact, you had already told. You then returned to the parking lot, encountered your wife, and refrained from telling her of the incident.”

  “I didn’t want to tell her in front of Jean and Joan.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’d promised I wouldn’t tell.”

  “But Jean and Joan already knew.”

  “Not from me. If my wife told them, what difference does that make? I promised I wouldn’t tell. I wasn’t going to rush up the hill and immediately tell.”

  “Yes, but they already knew.”

  “That’s not the point. Well, it is the point. I felt bad about that, and I didn’t want to discuss it.”

  “That’s why you withheld it from your wife?”

  “No. That’s why I withheld it from Jean and Joan. I was going to tell my wife at the first opportunity. I just never got one.”

  “Uh-huh. And is that the only thing you kept from your wife?”

  I found myself taking a breath again. “It was the only thing I had not had an opportunity to tell her. I am confident that everything else I observed, she knew.”

  “And what else had you observed? With relation to the young woman?”

  “I assume my wife told you about the incident at Champney Falls?”

  “You can assume anything you like. I’d rather hear it from you.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell you this as if you knew nothing. On the day we arrived here, which was yesterday, on our way we stopped off at Champney Falls. Christine Cobb and Lars Heinrick were there. They passed us on our way up. While we were stopping to rest. When we got to the falls we did not see them. However, there was an incident where we thought we heard the sound of a slap.”

  “Coming from where?”

  “Somewhere in the woods. It was impossible to tell.”

  “But you and your wife both heard the slap?”

  “Yes, we did. Didn’t she tell you?”

  “I’m concerned with what you’re telling me. Did anyone else hear the slap?”

  “Yes. Florence. The woman at our table.”

  “She was also at Champney Falls?”

  “Yes.”

  “You went there together?”

  “No. We met her there. Quite by accident. We didn’t know her, didn’t know she was staying at the inn. We began talking to her because of her dog, which was attracted to my sandwich.”

  “Uh-huh. And is that the only incident? The sound of the slap?”

  “No, it wasn’t.” I told him about seeing Christine Cobb crying behind the big rock with the tree on it.

  “So,” Pinehurst said, “at some time after you heard the sound of a slap, you saw the decedent, Christine Cobb, crying behind a big rock. When was the next time you saw her?”

  I put up my hand. “Before you get to that, there’s one other significant thing about Champney Falls.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There was a hiker there who later turned up at the inn. Although he doesn’t appear to be staying here.”

  “Yes, your wife mentioned him too. He was here tonight?”

  “Yes, and I don’t think he ate. Because he’s not here now. He came in, and must have gone right back out.”

  “But you didn’t see him go?”

  “No, I didn’t. He came in, walked behind my chair out of my line of sight. That’s the last I saw of him.”

  “Uh-huh. And can you describe this man?”

  “He was bald and overweight.” As I said it, I realized the description fit Pinehurst.

  If that offended him, he didn’t show it, just said, “Would you care to elaborate on that?”

  “On the trail he looked out of place. Like hiking wasn’t a natural thing for him to do.”

  “Uh-huh. You think overweight people shouldn’t hike?”

  “Not at all. I thought he shouldn’t hike. At least, he gave the impression he wasn’t enjoying it.”

  “And what was he wearing?”


  “On the trail, a T-shirt and shorts. Either a blue or dark gray suit at the inn.”

  “I see.”

  “Does that jibe with what my wife told you?”

  “Actually, I think it does. Let me see.” He flipped through the notebook again. “Let’s see. Bald on top. Fringe of light brown hair. Sideburns to middle ear, short, barber cut, recently trimmed. Hazel eyes, thin eyebrows—lighter than hair. Thick lips, bulbous nose. Pale blue, Lands’ End pocket tee. Tan shorts, cuffed, brown leather belt.”

  Pinehurst flipped a page. “And in the dining room, dark blue suit, light blue shirt, red patterned tie with gold diamond studded tie clip.” He looked up from his notes. “I would assume we were discussing the same man.”

  “My wife is far more observant than I am. I would credit anything she tells you.”

  “Thanks for your opinion. But getting back to my question.”

  “What question?”

  “The one I asked you before you chose this particular tangent. Not that it’s not important, and not that I didn’t want you to tell me about this man. However, right now I’m concerned with Christine Cobb. Could we go back to the time you saw her crying behind the rock? My question was, when was the next time you saw her?”

  “Later that day at the swimming pool.”

  “Swimming pool?”

  “Yes. The one here at the inn. My wife and I came here and checked in. We went up to our room and got settled. I went out to the swimming pool to swim, and she was there.”

  “Oh?”

  “What do you mean, oh?”

  “I don’t mean anything. I just said oh. Why did you think I meant something?”

  “You said oh as if you didn’t believe me.”

  “Not at all. I was merely surprised. That is, if I understand you correctly. Are you saying the woman was there when you got there?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, that’s certainly interesting. You leave the woman crying behind a rock, drive here and check in, go out to the swimming pool, and there she is. The woman seems to magically pop up wherever you go.”

  “Not at all. I admit I was surprised to find out she was staying here.”