Death Waxed Over (Book 3 in the Candlemaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  The start of the tape showed the interview with the mayor of New Conover. I’d seen him around the fair, but he didn’t interest me a bit. I was more intent on watching what was going on behind the scenes. I fast-forwarded through the interview, caught a few candid conversations with vendors and visitors, and then I saw the camera sweep across the area just behind Gretel as the cameraman caught an image of the murder scene. Something was different about the picture, but it took me a second to realize what it was. I had something, but I wasn’t sure if it would be enough. I hit the print button so I’d have a copy to check later, then continued scanning the tape.

  In another few moments, I was confronted with the static of a dead tape.

  There were only nine minutes on the tape, and I hadn’t seen the hint of a clown anywhere, though I had found something worth exploring. I watched the tape twice more and was ready to give up finding the assassin on tape when something caught my eye in the background. Yes, there was no doubt about it. In one corner of the picture was the clown Evelyn had described to me, the same man I’d nearly fallen over at the fair. I hurried back to Mary Fran and said, “I think I might have something, but it’s tough to see. Is there any way to enhance this?”

  She nodded, “There is, but I can’t do it. Let’s get Tom.” We found an older engineer in the backroom repairing a computer motherboard. Mary Fran said, “Tom, do you have a second?”

  “I’m tied up right now. Sorry.”

  I started to say something when Mary Fran shushed me. To her coworker, she said, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” Then she turned to me and said, “He couldn’t have enhanced it, anyway. The tape’s too grainy. Sorry, Harrison.”

  Tom put his soldering iron back in its stand and said, “What are you talking about?”

  She said, “You’re busy, it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

  Tom replied, “If there’s something on a tape you want to see, I can bring it up for you. Let’s go have a look.”

  Mary Fran was smiling as Tom walked by, and I thanked her silently. There wasn’t room for all three of us in the tape editing room, so Mary Fran stood outside in the hallway. Tom cued up the tape and said, “What are you looking for?”

  I pointed toward the screen and he slapped at my finger. “Don’t touch that. Just tell me.”

  “Do you see the clown in one corner? I need a better look at him.”

  Tom said, “You pulled me away from my work so we could look at clowns? You’ve got to be kidding.” He fiddled with some dials as he complained, and the clown jumped into intense clarity. He did something else to move the entire tape over to one side, and I could now see all of the clown in the display.

  “Can you run the tape this way?”

  He didn’t say anything, but tapped another button and I saw the clown moving in reverse. When the start of the shot arrived and the scene shifted, he started it again.

  “There’s no audio here, just background noise,” he said.

  “I’m not expecting him to say anything,” I said. I watched as the clown sat down on the courthouse steps, much as I’d found him the day Gretel had been shot.

  And then I saw something that told me, without a doubt, who had killed Gretel Barnett.

  I forgot myself and pointed to the screen again. “Freeze it right there. I need a copy of that.”

  Tom froze it, hit the copy button and handed me the print. I wasn’t sure it was evidence that would hold up in any court of law, but I was convinced.

  “Thanks, you two, you’ve helped more than you’ll ever know.”

  They both looked bewildered by my behavior as I handed Mary Fran two dollars, but there was no time to explain. I had a murderer to confront.

  I tried to get the sheriff, but he wouldn’t come to the telephone. Evidently Vince or Vance or whatever his real name was confessing to crimes that no one had the slightest idea he’d ever committed. I considered getting one of Morton’s deputies to back me up, but I really didn’t know any of them well enough to share my theory with.

  I made up my mind to confront the man myself. After all, it was broad daylight in a busy part of town. He wouldn’t have the nerve to try anything with the world walking past his front door.

  Chapter 20

  “Harrison, I trust you’ve brought the cash with you,” Jubal said as I walked into his store.

  “I’ve got it right here,” I said, patting my back pocket. “I’m just sorry it couldn’t be more.”

  “My friend, I already told you, whatever you came up with will be fine with me.”

  I kept my back to the glass, making sure I was always in sight of the street, as I said casually, “Of course, you’ve got the rest of your inheritance to see you through, don’t you?”

  He looked at me oddly. “I thought we’d already discussed this. Gretel didn’t leave me a thing.”

  “As Jubal, no, but as Hans, you’re going to make a real killing when you sell this building to Runion, not to mention getting everything else Gretel had.”

  Jubal said, “Harrison, I’m afraid you’ve been out in the sun too long. I’m not Hans.”

  “Come on, there’s nobody here but the two of us. Do you honestly think you’re going to get away with this?”

  He eased up to the register as he said, “I truly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Okay, if you want me to lay it out for you, I will. You see, I knew you killed Gretel before I realized who you were. It wasn’t until after I figured out you were the murderer that I realized that meant you had to be Hans.”

  He kept fidgeting with something, but I was on a roll. I pulled out the photograph, laid it on the counter and said, “You were the clown I saw that day at the fair. One of your customers came by here to buy some supplies, but you were closed, though you denied it later to me. I told you, candlemakers can be a persistent lot. When she saw you were gone, she went to the fair to buy her supplies there. She was talking to Gretel just before you killed her.”

  He looked at the copy and said, “How could you possibly think I’m the person behind this clown makeup, let alone prove it?”

  I pointed to the photograph and said, “You mean besides the fact that you used to work on a carnival? I’m sure you learned how to apply that makeup; you did a first-class job when I saw you.”

  “And what makes you think that?”

  “In a way, Gretel provided that clue herself. She made a diary entry on her web page with your bio on it. I’d forgotten all about it until this morning. It fits, but there’s more to it than that. You’re rubbing the bridge of your nose in this photograph, just like you did last night. I figure it’s a nervous habit. You probably don’t even realize you’re doing it.”

  His hand started to go to his nose, but stopped halfway there. “And you call this proof? The police are convinced Pearly killed Gretel. It could just have easily been him in the clown makeup.”

  “Come on, I found the tube you planted under his workbench. Micah’s Ridge isn’t that big. I’m willing to bet there’s a pretty good chance one of the clerks at Party World will be able to identify you. It’s not going to come to that, though, is it? Your fingerprints are going to give you away as Hans Barnett, not Jubal Grant. That’s why you wanted cash today, wasn’t it? It’s the same reason Jubal Grant didn’t get anything in Gretel’s will; he doesn’t exist.”

  “So what,” the man said. “That still doesn’t prove I killed her. Where’s the gun?”

  “You were pretty clever about that, I’ll give you credit there. I’ve got a feeling I know where you stashed it, though.”

  “You’re bluffing,” Hans said fiercely.

  “Don’t you wish. You see, I noticed something else when I was looking at the video taken on the day of the fair. That cannon had a plug in its barrel that wasn’t there when I set up that morning. You made something to fit, shoved the gun in during the confusion and capped it with your homemade plug just in case you were stopped. It was pretty cl
ever of you. Did you plan to retrieve it on your way out of town?”

  Instead of replying, I finally saw what he was digging for by the register, and I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. It was a boning knife, not much of a weapon against the police and their guns, but it was more than I had.

  I tried to keep my voice calm as I said, “What are you going to do with that? If you kill me, the police will come looking for you.”

  The man smiled and said, “No, I believe they’ll come looking for Jubal, and the second I walk out that door, he’s not going to exist anymore.”

  “You’ll have to kill both of us,” Pearly said as he came out of the backroom.

  I don’t know who was more surprised to see him, Hans or me. As the knife wavered in his hand, he said, “How did you get back there?”

  “You really should lock your rear exit,” he said.

  “It was locked.”

  Pearly smiled and joined me at the front door. “But not deadbolted. I managed to force the lock with a screwdriver and come in.”

  “But how did you know?” I asked.

  “I’ve been following you for the last two days. I knew if anyone figured this mess out, it would be you.” He turned to Hans and said, “There’s no way you’re going to get both of us.”

  Hans considered doing just that, then he bolted for the back. I started after him but Pearly grabbed my arm. In a minute I knew why. We walked to the back of the shop and I saw Morton slapping the handcuffs on the murderer.

  “You’re here, too,” I asked. “What happened to Vince?”

  “I figured he was safe enough locked up in a cell. Pearly waved me down in the street a few minutes ago and I almost ran him over. If I hadn’t heard it out of this guy’s mouth himself, I still probably wouldn’t have believed it.”

  “He wanted to arrest me, but I insisted he come with me first,” Pearly said with a smile. “As soon as I heard what you two were discussing, I ducked out for assistance.”

  “Let’s go,” Morton said to Hans. “We’ll go out the front way this time.”

  Hans said, “Surely you don’t believe any of this.”

  “Let’s just say I’m willing to pursue it long enough to find out who you really are.”

  Hans shook his head in disgust. He knew he was caught.

  I had to add, “If you hadn’t been greedy wanting to sell those supplies, I wouldn’t have put it all together until it was too late. Think about that when you’re rotting away in jail for murder.”

  He lunged at me then, but Morton had a good hold on the cuffs and jerked him back.

  The sheriff looked at me and said, “Now, Harrison, what have I told you in the past? Don’t poke the bear. Listen, hang around a minute until I can get a black-and-white over here.”

  After they were gone, Pearly said, “So what happens now? Did you actually buy this inventory from him?”

  I shook my head. “No, I didn’t figure it was his to sell since he came by it through murder.”

  “So what do we do now?” Pearly asked.

  “We wait for the deputy, then we get you back to River’s Edge. We’ve missed having you there, my friend.”

  “And I’ve missed being there,” he said. He held my wallet up and said, “Did you miss this yet?”

  I took it and said, “Where’d you find it?”

  “It was in the backroom. I thought you might be needing it.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Sheriff Morton came back alone. “He’s on his way to the station. Listen, I want to say something to both of you while I’ve got the chance.”

  “There’s no need to apologize,” I said.

  Morton looked startled by the suggestion. “What makes you think I owe you an apology?”

  Pearly said, “Let’s see, you practically accused us both of murder. Isn’t that a good place to start?”

  Morton shook his head. “This is why I hate working with amateurs. I was just doing my job. I don’t make any excuses for that.”

  “So what did you want to say?”

  “I wanted to thank you both for your help, but I’m not sure I still want to.”

  I grinned at him. “It’s too late now, isn’t it?”

  Pearly asked, “So what’s going to happen to all this?”

  Morton shrugged. “It’s not any of my business. Now let’s get out of here. I’ve got an officer in back to watch the place until we can lock it up. Somebody did a real number on the lock in back. I wonder who that could have been.”

  Pearly said, “I wonder.”

  We left Morton, and Pearly and I drove our vehicles back to River’s Edge. We met again on the front steps, and Pearly said, “Harrison, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

  “I’m not the only one here who believed in you. We all knew you were innocent.”

  “Based on what? I have to admit, the evidence did seem to point in my direction.”

  I slapped him on the back. “Yeah, but when your family’s in trouble, you stand behind them. That’s what we all did.”

  “Then I’m glad to be a member of this particular clan.”

  Eve must have spotted us outside. She came bustling over, glanced at Pearly and told him, “It’s high time you stopped skulking around here.”

  Before Pearly could reply, Eve turned to me and said, “I stayed up most of the night, but I’ve got the pricing done. You just need to plug in the inventory numbers and we’ll be set.”

  I didn’t know how to tell her that the deal had fallen through, but she must have read something on my face. “Harrison Black, I can’t believe you let this slip out of your hands. Just when we have the chance to make some headway, you manage yet again to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.”

  She stormed back to the candleshop, and it was all Pearly and I could do to hold our laughter in until she was gone.

  Pearly said, “Now I really feel like I’m back home.”

  Dorothea Hurley’s Top-Secret Apple Pan Dowdy Recipe

  (the one that Millie borrowed)

  Ingredients

  1/3 cup brown sugar

  1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

  1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

  3 cups sliced and peeled apples (tart works well, one or two apples are plenty, depending on their size)

  1/3 cup sugar

  3/4 cup flour 3/4 teaspoon baking powder

  1/4 teaspoon salt

  1/4 cup shortening (we use real butter)

  1 egg

  1/3 cup milk

  Combine the brown sugar, nutmeg and cinnamon. Coat the sliced apples in the brown sugar-nutmeg-cinnamon mix. Preheat oven, then place apple mixture in a buttered

  1-quart baking dish and bake covered for 30 minutes at 375 degrees.

  In a separate bowl, mix the sugar, flour, baking powder and salt. Cut in the softened shortening (butter), and add the egg and milk. Stir until well mixed, then spread over the apples (still in their dish) and bake uncovered for another 30 minutes, still at 375 degrees.

  This was one of my late mother-in-law’s desserts, still a real family favorite at our house. Some folks like to pour a little cold milk over their portion, but I like a glass of milk on the side.

  Assorted Candlemaking Tips for Gel candles

  By adjusting the temperature of the wax, you can get some interesting shapes and forms in the candle using the wax itself.

  Play with different temperatures to get a varying amount of bubbles in the wax. For undersea candles, a popular choice for gel wax, we pour the wax as soon as it’s melted. That gives lots and lots of bubbles.

  Sometimes we make small amounts of vivid wax combinations; pour the heated wax on a cookie sheet and let the different colors cool. The wax stays thin, around one-eighth inch. Then we cut out shapes from the wax and stick them to the insides of the glass. It provides a bright kaleidoscope of colors when clear gel wax is poured into the candle.

  Themed candles are fun for holidays, birthdays and any special occasion. Craft stores h
ave a variety of small objects that do well added to a gel wax pour. We’ve done themes with semiprecious stones, marbles, pretty gravel, colored sand and other items we already had on hand.

  An assortment of coins buried into the gel wax make a good theme. Costume jewelry and anything that can stand the heat of the pour are good choices as well.

  Handcrafted Candle Stands and Bases

  Sometimes the way a candle is displayed is more important than the candle itself. Just about anything that will hold a candle upright can be crafted into a base. In the past, I’ve made candleholders out of papier-mâché, flower pots and even punched tin. I’ve found that recycled jars and bottles also make perfect candleholders.

  Using a little creativity, you can customize your base to the occasion. For Halloween, decorate jars with ghosts, goblins and full moons after painting the glass black. To make a specialized holder for Christmas, a red or green base frosted with flocking makes a perfect centerpiece. Remember, though, that anything you put close to the candle’s wick needs to be fireproof!

  I’ve also seen fruit carved out to hold candles at parties. The only limit is your own imagination, so have fun and experiment.

  And now a peek at A Flicker Of Doubt, book 4 in the Candlemaking mysteries by Tim Myers.

  A Flicker Of Doubt

  By Tim Myers

  Chapter 1

  As my kayak brushed against the woman’s body, I thought I’d hit another half-submerged log. The Gunpowder River was full of all kinds of debris, washed there from the banks in the heavy rains that had assaulted us over the past two weeks. Paddling through the water was more like an obstacle course than the smooth river I usually found on my excursions.

  It wasn’t until I looked closer that I realized what I’d brushed up against

  In a moment of panic I dropped my double-bladed paddle, but I managed to catch it again before it skittered off the sleek surface of the boat and into the water. Without it, I’d be hopelessly adrift “Harrison, what’s wrong?” I looked over on shore and saw Markum, a big bear of a man with wild black hair and the look of an ogre about him, standing near the concrete steps that led down to the water in front of the complex. It was funny how he had become one of my best friends in the world. To the casual eye, we had nothing in common; no mutual interests to forge the friendship we had found nonetheless. Markum based his business at River’s Edge—my converted warehouse that featured retail shops downstairs and offices upstairs. My apartment was the only living space on the second floor, and it was perched above my candleshop, At Wick’s End.