Persephone Cole and the Christmas Killings

by Heather Haven

  “Weren’t you, old man? A little Christmas angel, on another one of her pilfering missions for a diamond trinket of one sort or another, sees the whole thing, probably crouched down behind one of the counters.” Percy straightened up again and turned back to the son.

  “Gertie – that’s the Christmas angel’s name – lets your father know soon afterward what she saw. Like dear old dad, she knows a lethal opportunity when she sees one. She probably demands money or much larger trinkets. And she’s not a dummy. She knows she’s got a crackerjack blackmail scheme going for herself.”

  Waller senior shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Hanson, sweat dripping from his brow, turned on him. “I told you we shouldn’t hurt her, sir. I told you -”

  “Shut up!” Waller didn’t look at his servant, as he delivered his edict. “Just shut up.”

  “Yeah, shut up, Hanson,” Percy said, in mock tones. “I’m telling this story and I work solo. Where was I? Oh, yeah. The next night the deadly duo over here agree to meet Gertie at Santa Land round about midnight. Daddy Waller knows all about the tunnels, so they go in the jewelry store and through the tunnels, being real quiet to keep from waking Ernie who’s sleeping in the boiler room. They meet Gertie stage left, where Waller delivers a mean blow to the back of her head, probably while the ever-faithful servant here is distracting her. Somewhere in this time frame, he makes a phone call to Rikers Island inciting Danny DeLuca to break out and tail me in the hopes of finding Lily. Hell, you’ve got a lot of influence. Maybe you bribed a few people to help DeLuca break out. Might be he would do you a favor and follow-up on his promise to kill the girl. I’m sure that was your hope.” She stopped talking and stood in front of the elder man. “I may not have everything in the right order but I think I got it all in, didn’t I?”

  Mr. Waller rose from his chair in careful, slow movements. Percy stared down at him unflinching. From behind his back he drew out a small derringer and aimed it at the female detective. “Very good. Almost one-hundred percent correct. Not that you’ll be able to tell anyone.”

  “Father! You’re admitting to this?” William Waller rose so quickly his chair fell back, landing with a thud on the plush, Persian carpet. Neither his father nor Percy looked in his direction.

  “Shut up, William, and let me handle this.” Waller Senior continued moving toward Percy.

  She backed up, but continued to point the pistol directly at senior Waller. “Don’t do anything stupid, old man. I don’t have any problem with shooting a mean old bastard like you.”

  “Nor I you, you fat busybody.”

  “No,” shouted Hanson, from the sidelines. “No sir, no more killing. I’ll talk. I swear I will. I’ll tell the police what I did, what we did -”

  His employer whipped the derringer around and fired once at his servant, the bullet hitting him in the upper chest. Hanson reeled backward from the impact, hit the wall, and slid to the floor. Senior Waller took another aim at the man on the floor.

  Before senior Waller could pull the trigger again, Percy fired, the bullet hitting the man’s hand. He collapsed into a chair groaning in pain, clutching at his bloody, wounded hand.

  A stunned but wordless William walked to his father’s side and stood looking down at him. The son reached out a tentative hand then pulled it back, almost as if he’d touched fire. Then he turned to Hanson lying on the floor, taking measured steps to the servant’s side.

  There was a pounding at the door and the muffled cries of several men.

  “What’s going on in there? Open up in the name of the law. This is the police.”

  “They must have heard the shots.” Percy pivoted in the direction of the voices. “You’d better get the door, Bill, before they knock it down.” There were the sounds of splintering wood, a crash, and then thudding feet coming nearer. “Too late.”

  Picking up on Percy’s calm demeanor, William stooped down and checked Hanson’s wound, as three policemen, followed by Hutchers, ran into the room. Percy lowered her gun.

  “What the hell?” Hutchers stood in the doorway. He looked from one wounded man to the other.

  “She…that woman shot both of us,” the old man said. Though his voice cracked, showing his pain, his tone was indignant and accusatory.

  “Ooo, what a liar.” Percy squashed a hoot of laughter. “True, I shot the old man, Hutchers, but only after he plugged the butler and was about to do it again.”

  “What she says is true, Detective. My father shot this man.” William Waller had more control and authority in his voice than Percy had ever heard. “And he also shot the man my daughter is accused of killing.” He could not or would not look at his father.

  Hutchers reached for the pistol from Percy’s hand. She released her grip on it.

  Both she and the detective crossed over to Hanson lying on the floor and bent down. Hutchers examined the wound while Hanson asked in a weak voice, “Am I going to die, sir?”

  Hutchers shook his head. “Naw, it went clean through….”

  “Yeah, you just might, Hanson,” Percy said, making her voice louder than the detective’s. “So you might as well make a clean breast of it now. Set the record straight.”

  “All right.” Hanson stuttered. “I will.”

  “Shut up, Hanson,” Waller ordered from his chair at the table.

  “Shut up yourself…sir.” Hanson’s voice was still weak but clear. He looked up at Percy, not seeing one of the officers crossing to Hutchers.

  “Ambulance is on its way.” The young officer had a decided green tinge to his complexion.

  Hutchers glanced up at the rookie policeman standing over him. “I know this is your first crime scene, but take this down, Rogers. It’ll be good experience.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rogers withdrew a small notepad from the inside pocket of his uniform with shaky hands. Hutchers turned back to Hanson.

  Hutchers nodded and turned back to the man lying on the floor.

  “It was just like you said, madam, almost all of it. Mr. Waller shot the funny little man and struck the woman on the head with a brick we found in one of the tunnels. I dragged her body into the little house. She did see Mr. Waller Senior shoot the elf. And I was the one who returned the gun to her handbag before I put it under the body.” He turned to Hutchers. “I guess both our fingerprints are in that bag.”

  Hutchers turned a puzzled face toward Percy, she waggled an eyebrow and then both turned back to the bleeding man on the floor. Hutchers opened his mouth to speak but Percy’s voice over road his once more.

  “You the one that tried to run me down outside my apartment building in the middle of the night?”

  Hanson looked at Percy and nodded. “I was just obeying orders, Miss.” He let out a moan and whispered. “But I wasn’t trying to hit you, just scare you.”

  “Tell that to my feet.”

  “So you’re saying the senior Waller over there killed the elf and the Christmas angel, not Lily Waller,” interjected Hutchers. “And did so with your help?”

  Hanson rolled his eyes and focused on the detective. “Yes, sir, I am. I want to meet my maker with a clear conscience.” His head lolled to the side, and he closed his eyes.

  “Hey, I thought you said he wasn’t going to die.” Percy stared at the detective, concern in her voice. Faint sirens sounded. She stood and pivoted in the direction of the wailing.

  “The ambulance is almost here.” Hutchers put a practiced finger to a pulse point on the man’s neck. “He’ll be all right. He just passed out. I ain’t no doctor, but it looks like the bullet hit some of the muscles in his shoulder and went on through. I don’t think it even hit a bone.”

  “I’m glad to know he’ll get the chance to spend the rest of his life in prison. Maybe he can even share a cell with his boss.” Percy gestured to Senior Waller.

  Hutchers chuckled, stood up, and went over to the old man sitting in the chair. Waller’s hand had been wrapped in one of the cloth napkins and his son stood close by, shocked but
apparently trying to grapple with what had happened.

  “I’m sorry, Bill,” Percy said, approaching the jeweler. “It was the only way I could tie this up and get Lily out of jail right away. It was tough on you and I’m sorry.” He didn’t answer or even look at her. It seemed as if he was frozen in time.

  Hutchers glanced down at the old man. “Do you have anything you want to say? Any defense you could possibly offer?”

  “Don’t be an ass.” The man sneered.

  “It’s Christmas time, you killed an elf and an angel, and I’m the ass?” Hutchers shook his head. “News to me.”

  “I want to call my lawyer. That woman shot me unprovoked.”

  “Unprovoked?” His son came to life. William stared at his father, shock turning into disgust. “Father, how many people have you killed? My wife? Lily’s boyfriend? Now you shot Hanson and you threatened to shoot Miss Cole? What kind of monster are you?”

  “You forgot Gertie,” Hutchers offered. “Just to keep the record straight. She was a thief, a blackmailer, and a lousy bookkeeper, but still a human being.”

  The ever-increasing wail of sirens stopped abruptly. Hutchers beckoned to Officer Rogers, who was never far away. “The ambulance is here, son. Go show them where we are.”

  Rogers nodded with a half salute and headed for the door. Hutchers walked discretely toward the door, too, but turned back to keep an eye on his shooter. He leaned against the door frame alert, but his eyes half closed, giving William and Percy a modicum of privacy.

  William took the moment and gestured for Percy to follow him to the other end of the long table, out of earshot. Once there, he turned to Percy. “How long have you known it was my father?”

  “Today for sure.”

  He dropped into a nearby chair and covered his hands with his face. “I can’t believe any of this.” Percy was silent, giving the man a chance to talk. “I seem to be surrounded by deceit and lies. My own father. And poor Lily, thinking all these years I killed her mother. And then me, thinking she’d killed that man. You’re right. I am a moron. We’re a family of morons.”

  “Look on the bright side. Everybody knows the truth now.”

  “’And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.’ That’s a quote from the Bible."

  “I know.”

  “Long ago, when Lily was a child, I’d take her to Sunday school, and we would read the Bible together. I loved those days.”

  “Maybe you can get back to them. At least, nobody ever got kicked to the curb for trying.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “How are you feeling, Pop? Better I hope.” His face no longer appeared fevered but healthier. More energy radiated from him.

  “Penicillin is a miracle drug, Persephone. The doctor says the infection is clearing up. It didn’t take but overnight for me to start feeling more like my old self again.”

  “You continue like this, you might make it home for Christmas, Pop. If not, we’ll bring it to you. We’ll smuggle in Oliver and Fred. You see if we don’t.”

  “Oliver! I miss my grandson every day. You see the pictures that Oliver drew of the new dog for me?” He pointed to a window where several eight by eleven paper-filled drawings were propped up against the glass pane. “The boy’s got talent. I was afraid he’d be as bad an artist as your mother, but don’t tell her I said that,” he added hurriedly.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, Pop. I think the only thing Oliver inherited from Mother is his tendency to hum tuneless and annoying little ditties. Better not tell Mother I said that.”

  “Not on your life, Persephone. Let’s shake on it.” He reached out a hand. They both laughed and shook hands. “Someday I hope we can get rid of all those pictures hanging in the parlor. They give me nightmares. Maybe we can get Oliver to draw something to take their place. There’s another thing we probably shouldn’t tell your mother.”

  They were silent for a moment. Pop fiddled with his pillows and Percy sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Pop, I want to talk to you,” she said, straightening his covers, “Waller didn’t cough up the five grand--”

  “Well, he didn’t have to, Persephone,” Pop interrupted. “Not with Lily spending the night in jail like that. All bets were off. I know that upsets your plans, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “That’s all right, Pop.” She took a check out of her suit pocket. “He didn’t give us the five grand, but he did give us a thousand smackers, as per our agreement that I solve the case.” She waved the check in the air. “Look at this. Merry Christmas to the Coles.”

  Pop took the check from her outstretched hand, a non-committal look crossing his face. “That’ll go a long way to you finding a new place for you and Oliver.”

  “No, Pop, no. It goes into the family coffers. We have running costs. And I think it’s time Cole Investigations did a little advertising. Let people know we’re around.”

  “You mean you’re not moving out?” His blue eyes got large, happiness dancing inside them.

  “Naw, who needs it? I got a good deal going right where I am. Nice people I live with, a little strange, but willing babysitters.”

  He reached out and stroked her cheek. “You’re a good girl, Persephone. A girl can’t be as sweet and loving as you and not have someone snatch her up one of these days. You’ll find that man and then you and Oliver will have a new home with him. That’s the way it should be.”

  Percy stuck out her hand in a gesture meant to stop the conversation. “Pop, believe it or not, I am content. No more talk about men in or out of my life. My life is good. This is going to be a fine Christmas. I’ll take a little of this money and buy Oliver a red Radio Flyer.”

  “That the wagon he’s been wanting?”

  “It is, Pop. Between that, the dog, and you getting well, this will be the best Christmas my son’s ever had. Actually, all of us.” She looked at his face and smiled. “I should go, Pop. You’re a little tired.”

  Pop leaned back and nodded. His turned his head, eyes focusing on a nearby cot, neatly made up with covers and cushions from home.

  “Your mother’s taken to spending the nights here with me, just like when I first broke my leg. I like that. This place has a nice homey touch, thanks to Mother. She’s bringing in some of her ferns from the parlor. She says they have medicinal properties. If nothing else, they’ll remind me of home. I’m a lucky man.”

  “Yeah, you are. We all are, Pop. You rest now.”

  Her father closed his eyes, and Percy slipped out the door. She took a few steps down the busy hospital corridor and saw Lily sitting on a bench by the elevator, dressed in her dark green coat and hat. She looked calm and serene, not like the first time Percy had seen her wearing the combo.

  Lily stood up when Percy approached. The corners of her dark eyes were creased by a broad smile that covered her face. Percy had never seen her smile like that before. She actually looked happy.

  “Lily, what a surprise. I’m glad to see you. I know you only got released yesterday but it seems like a long time. How does it feel to be free?”

  “It’s like being reborn, Percy.”

  “Well, let’s not get carried away.”

  “No, truly. My life is going to be different from now on. You know, with the baby and all.”

  They stood smiling at one another for a moment. Percy went on, “I haven’t heard from you since I got your note about being released from jail. I wondered what you were up to, but you look like it’s okay. Sera packed your things. You can drop by for them any time.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come back yesterday, but I’ve had a lot of things to do.”

  “Like what?”

  Lily didn’t answer but took Percy by the arm. “Let’s walk a bit.”

  “Sure.”

  They began to stroll down the corridor arm in arm like old friends.

  “I had a lot of time to think in jail.”

  “I bet.”

  “Even one night in jail can chang
e you, Percy.”

  “Every lifer says that.”

  “You think about a lot of things. Not just about being free but about money.”

  “One of my favorite subjects.”

  Lily stopped walking and turned to face Percy.

  “It’s not the money you have, but what you do with it.”

  “That’s what they tell me.”

  Lily laughed. “I was here visiting my doctor, saw your car, and thought I’d wait and see you after you visited your father. Let you know what’s going on. But first, how’s Pop? I didn’t want to barge in and interrupt things.”

  “Doing good. The penicillin is working and Pop’s feeling better. But Pop would love to see you, Lily. Drop by and say hello. He considers you one of the family now.”

  “Does he? I’m so glad.”

  “We all do.”

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  “It’s true or I wouldn’t say it. Haven’t I always told you like it is?”

  “You tell everybody like it is, Percy.”

  “Yeah, but sometimes I mean it more than other times. I was tough on you in the beginning. For that I apologize.”

  “Don’t. At least you cared enough to be tough. I always knew that.”

  “Then I guess we’ve got a warmhearted ending here.” She turned and faced the younger woman. “So, Lily, have a great life but don’t be a stranger. You’re one of those rare commodities, an extended member of the Cole family. We’re small but mighty.”

  “You’re not so small, Percy.”

  Percy stared at her for a split-second. “Holy cripes, did you just make a joke? Don’t tell me you have a sense of humor.”

  “Maybe I’ve been hanging around you too long.”

  Both women laughed.

  Percy pressed the elevator button, Lily by her side. The detective looked up at the floor indicator, but continued to talk, her voice taking on a more serious tone.