Arsenic and Old Puzzles (2 page)

“That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement,” Harper said.

“You don’t suspect foul play?”

“Not in the least.”

“And yet you called me in.”

“Because of the puzzle.”

“And while you were waiting for the doctor, you figured what the hell. Why not drag a seventy-six-year-old woman away from an afternoon with her great-niece?”

“I think you’ve paid me back for that remark. Could we move onto this corpse?”

“Love to. Would you like me to examine the body?”

“Probably better wait for the doc.”

Cora nodded. “Sure, sure. Important case like this. Come on, Chief. There’s no reason to suspect this guy died from anything other than natural causes.”

“He had a puzzle in his pocket.”

“They’re not usually lethal. At least the ones in my books. Even the hard ones are called diabolical, not deadly. So what was he doing in town?”

“I don’t know.”

“How come?”

“According to the sisters, he keeled over before they could find out.”

“That must have been disappointing.”

“You’re not taking this seriously, Cora.”

“Of course I’m not taking it seriously. Here’s a man we don’t know, who happens to be dead. There’s not a lot I can do.”

The plumper sister stuck her head in the room.

“Yes, Charlotte?” Harper said.

Cora smiled, happy to have the sisters sorted out. The plump one was Charlotte. The thin one was Edith. As her weight was probably closer to the plump one’s than the thin one’s, Cora was happy to drop that designation.

“Oh,” Charlotte said, “he’s still here.”

“Of course he’s still here. We’re waiting for the doctor.”

“It was such a shock. One minute we’re drinking wine, the next minute he’s dead.” Charlotte didn’t act like it was a shock. She cocked her head, birdlike, and peered up at the chief. “Have you figured it out yet?”

“Figured what out?”

“Well, it’s a murder, isn’t it? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

“It’s not a murder,” Harper said.

“Then why did you call her in?”

“She’s the Puzzle Lady. He had a puzzle in his pocket.”

Charlotte smiled. “He probably liked to do them. Widowers often have a hobby.”

“Widowers?”

“Yes, he was a widower,” the thinner sister said, pushing her way into the room. “We managed to find that out. He was much more willing to talk about what he’d done than what he was doing. Some men are like that.”

There was something very spinsterish about the way she said
men
. Cora chided herself for the thought, but she couldn’t help thinking it. Having been married five or six times herself, give or take an annulment or two, Cora was sometimes less than tolerant.

“Did you learn anything else about him?” Cora said.

“No,” Edith said. “And it was rather annoying. He had an irritating habit of smiling, nodding, and not answering the question.”

“I was married to a man like that,” Cora said. “He was delightfully vague. It was one of the reasons I divorced him.”

“You divorced him for being vague?”

“He’s lucky I didn’t shoot him. There was also a pole dancer involved.”

The front doorbell sent the sisters into a titter, deciding which of them should go answer it. By the third ring, Cora was ready to jump in and decide for them. Still arguing, they fluttered their way out the door.

“Well, that solves your mystery,” Cora said. “This poor man probably dropped dead in self-defense.”

Barney Nathan strode in. The good doctor had clearly foregone amenities, as the sisters were spinning in his wake trying to keep up.

Dr. Nathan saw Cora and grimaced. “Oh. Don’t tell me.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Cora said. “The guy had a sudoku in his pocket, so the chief called me.”

“Why?”

Cora smiled. “The same reason you’re here to pronounce him dead. So we can say we did. It’s not like it’s necessary or anything. I could pronounce him dead. And you could probably do the damn sudoku.”

“In your dreams.” Barney Nathan plopped his medical bag down on a chair, strode around the table, bent down to examine the corpse. After a moment or two he stood up. “All right, he’s dead.” He picked up his medical bag.

“That’s all you’re going to do?” Cora said.

“What do you want me to do, bring him back to life?”

Cora knelt down by the body. She looked up at the doctor. “Aren’t you interested in what killed him?”

“Not really. He died of natural causes.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I suppose you’d like an autopsy,” Barney said sarcastically.

Cora turned to the Guilford sisters. “Ladies. If you would be so good as to boil some water.”

Edith’s eyes widened. “The doctor needs boiling water to examine the body?”

“No, but I think he’d like some tea.”

“Certainly,” Edith said. “Charlotte, would you boil some water?”

“I don’t need any tea,” Barney protested.

“Yes, you do,” Cora said. “If the two of you could just whip up something.”

Jabbering at each other, the sisters retreated to the kitchen.

“What’s the big idea?” Barney said irritably.

“I didn’t want to contradict you in front of them.”

“Contradict me?” Barney said, incredulously. “You’re going to contradict me?”

Cora smiled. “It’s not your fault, doc. You’re not a mystery buff. Or you might have noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“The smell of bitter almonds.”

Barney Nathan’s mouth fell open. “Do you mean…?”

Cora shrugged. “Well, my guess would be cyanide.”

Chapter

3

The first thing
Cora noticed was that the sisters were ill at ease. That bothered her. Cora didn’t want the sisters to be guilty. Not that she knew them, or anything, but if they were guilty, the case would be over.

“Just a few questions,” Chief Harper said.

“Oh dear,” Charlotte said. “I have such a problem with questions.”

“Why is that?”

“They need answers. I’m not good with answers. I get all flustered.”

“She does,” Edith said. “You really can’t get anywhere asking Charlotte questions. You’re better off hinting at the point. For instance, if you wanted to know what movie she saw last week, you wouldn’t ask her. You’d just start talking about movies, and she’d chime in with, ‘Oh, I just saw such-and-such.’”

“Really?” Chief Harper said with a forced grin. Cora could practically see the poor man trying to frame the right sequence of statements that would prompt Charlotte to volunteer the information that would crack the case.

Not that she was about to. Talking about her getting nervous about answering was only making her nervous about answering. Cora wondered if Edith had done it deliberately. Particularly since she seemed to be having troubles of her own.

“You’re the one who checked him in?” Chief Harper asked her.

“Yes. Because Charlotte had gone to the store. Otherwise, Charlotte would have done it. Charlotte does the check-ins, and I do the checkouts. She wasn’t here. That’s the only reason I checked him in.”

“I understand.”

“You sound as if you suspect foul play,” Charlotte said.

“Of course he suspects foul play. Otherwise he’d be gone.”

“I assure you this is just routine, Miss Guilford.”

“Which Miss Guilford?” Charlotte said. “Are you talking to her or to me?”

“I’m talking to both of you.” Harper took a breath. “There’s a chance there’s something irregular about the gentleman’s death. But, believe me, no one suspects you.”

“Who do you suspect?” Edith said.

“I don’t suspect anyone.”

“Then not suspecting us isn’t reassuring. We were with the man when he died. We served him the tea.” Her eyes widened. “Was something wrong with the tea?”

“The tea is excellent,” Harper said. Even as he issued that assurance, he looked suspiciously at his teacup.

Cora stifled a grin. Now the Guilford sisters had the chief imagining assassins.

“When did he check in?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“How did he get here?’

“He took a bus.”

“There’s no bus to Bakerhaven.”

“He said he took a bus to Danbury and came in a cab.”

“Which would be very expensive,” Charlotte said.

“You doubt his story?” Cora said.

Charlotte’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean, doubt his story? You mean, do I think he was lying?”

Cora shrugged. “I don’t know. Is that what you meant?”

“No one’s doubting anyone’s story,” Chief Harper said. “The man could have taken a cab from Danbury. It would be expensive, but maybe he had money. We don’t know because we don’t know who he is.”

“I suppose that’s my fault,” Edith said. “But he paid cash. When I asked his name, he smiled and said, ‘Tom.’ Then he counted out the money. And he gave it to me and he smiled and he kept talking and I forgot to ask him what his last name was.”

“It’s not like you asked him and he refused to answer?”

“Well, I asked him, and he said, ‘Tom.’”

“Just the one time?”

“You think I should have asked him twice?”

“No, I’m just asking what you did.”

“Well, that’s what happened. And he said he was exhausted and he went up to bed.”

“You showed him the room?”

“Of course I showed him the room. You can’t just let the guests pick a room.”

“And he just had the one suitcase?”

“That’s right.”

“No briefcase? No other bag?”

“No. Just the one.”

“Did we do something wrong?” Charlotte put in.

“No. But you’re witnesses, in case there is anything irregular about his death.”

“What did the doctor say?”

“I’m not prepared to discuss what the doctor said. He has to make his examination. I have to make mine.”

“Of course. Ask us anything you like. Charlotte, pay attention now. We have to help the policeman. What would you like to know, Chief?”

Cora’s eyes twinkled. She wondered if the poor man, put on the spot, could think of a single question.

Turned out he could.

“Do you ladies keep weed killer in the house?”

“Weed killer?” Charlotte said. “Certainly not. We do organic gardening with no pesticides. Would you like to see the garden?”

“Not right now.”

“On your way out, then,” Edith said. “Do you like tomatoes? They’re just ripe. We could give you a few.”

“And you, too,” Charlotte added to Cora Felton. “For your cooking.”

Cora, who couldn’t recall the last thing she’d cooked that didn’t come in a microwavable pouch, smiled and nodded.

“So you say you have no poisons in the house,” Harper said.

“I didn’t say that. Charlotte, did you say that? I didn’t hear you say that. I know we got distracted by tomatoes, but I’m sure Charlotte wouldn’t say that.”

“You mean you do have poison in the house?”

“We do not have weed killer,” Edith said. “I would like to make that perfectly clear. We don’t believe in it.”

“But you do have poison?”

“Well…” Edith lowered her voice confidentially, smiled, and nodded. “We have a problem with woodchucks.”

Chapter

4

Becky Baldwin was
the prettiest lawyer in Bakerhaven. Granted, she was the only lawyer in Bakerhaven; still, she was probably the prettiest lawyer in all of Connecticut. A willowy blonde in her twenties with the face of an angel, Becky was not the first lawyer one would choose if one were in a scrape.

One would be wrong. Becky was an exceptional lawyer, who deserved a wider practice. In Cora’s opinion, her looks held her back. Cora figured that Becky would have a sensational law practice, if she were only ugly. As it was, her one-room law office was down a side street over the pizza parlor.

Becky was sitting at her desk when Cora came in.

“What you up to?” Cora said.

“Bookkeeping. I can’t afford a bookkeeper, so I do it myself. Did you know if your income doesn’t exceed your expenses, it’s hard to make a profit?”

“I know it’s definitely time to remarry.” Cora slumped into a chair, pulled out a cigarette.

“Can’t smoke in here,” Becky said.

“I’m bringing you business. You know, that income-producing stuff.”

Cora lit the cigarette, took a drag.

“If you don’t have a job for me, I’m going to put that cigarette where the sun don’t shine.”

“Oh, tough talk. This happens to be a genuine job. You’d do well to take it seriously. Even as we speak, your clients are being deprived of their constitutional rights.”

“My clients?”

“The Guilford sisters. Edith and Charlotte Guilford.”

“What did they do?”

“Absolutely nothing. As a lawyer, you should know that. But Chief Harper suspects them of poisoning one of the boarders of their bed-and-breakfast.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I was just there. The sisters were serving afternoon tea. The guy keeled over from what Harper suspects was a whacking dose of poison.”

“What makes Chief Harper suspect that?”

“Actually, it’s the doctor that suspects it.”

“Barney Nathan suspects something?”

“Well, I gave him a hint. He’s doing the autopsy now.”

“Who’s the corpse?”

“Tom.”

“Tom?”

“He didn’t have any identification on him. He checked in as Tom.”

“How do you check in as Tom?”

“He paid cash.”

“He didn’t have a wallet on him?”

“Not when he was killed.”

“He checked in last night?”

“That’s right.”

“What did he do today?”

“Don’t know. Chief Harper skipped right to the tea. When the sisters admitted having poison, I thought you’d like to join the party.”

Becky frowned. “Did you see this Tom?”

“Yeah.”

“What was he like?”

“Elderly gentleman, conservatively dressed. Well, seventy-six, which Chief Harper thinks is elderly, and hopes won’t offend me.”

“What?”

“Am I really that old, Becky, that people have to worry about hurting my feelings?”

“You’re young, you’re vibrant, you have a gun in your purse,” Becky said irritably. “Could we stick with the potential homicide? What else do you know about him?”