2 Murder in the Winter Read online

  I hate to work on weekends, particularly when I need assistance, because most of the top people aren’t on duty. It took a little longer than it would’ve taken us during the week, but we were able to come up with all the information we would’ve gathered had we waited until Monday. There were no pictures. The only information we had were the few visuals we saw from within the RV. Both Lou and I guessed that the SUV was either light gray or some shade of tan. We didn’t see enough of the vehicle to guess the make or model. The darkness of the night and the bright headlights shining at us prevented that. That made our job harder. Luckily, someone on duty knew more about computers than Lou or I did. A young man we didn’t know fed information into the computer and the computer spit out printed pages for the two of us to peruse. We decided to peruse them at my house after picking up some food at Antonio’s on the way.

  +++

  I spread out our computer printouts on the dining room table, and Lou and I went to work. I couldn’t believe a small, old-fashioned town like ours had so many people driving SUVs. We soon learned that Hilldale residents owned 257 SUVs. We chopped that number considerably when we eliminated dark blue, brown, dark gray, and black SUVs. Still, ninety-four people were more than I wanted to call on. True, the number of people who owned mid-sized cars was a lot higher, but if Lou and I were going to call on each of these people, it would take us a while. We would have to do it alone. No one else saw the vehicle we were looking for. While it was dark and we weren’t able to identify the person, we could rule out some people based on size. Too bad the person we were looking for was not our size. There weren’t too many men our size, though I expected that more of the corpulent ones drove SUVs than yellow bugs.

  It took us over an hour to pare the field. We studied our list, including addresses and occupations. No one stood out over the others. We decided to ride together, even though it would take longer. Besides, neither of us wanted to be the guy working hours after his partner had found the man we were looking for, and since neither of us owned a cell phone, neither of us would’ve been able to alert the other one that our mission had been accomplished.

  I was amazed when I found out that one of the programs on the computer routed out our stops for us. All I had to do was drive. Well, drive and walk. Up to one door. Back from that door. On to the next one.

  Our first two SUV owners were at home, but we quickly eliminated them from our list. The third name on the list wasn’t at home. It dawned on me that it might mean a second trip to see this person. Maybe our murderer would die and leave a confession before we finished our list.

  Lou and I adopted a plan to use if no one was at home. We would check the driveway, and garage if possible, for an SUV, to see if we could rule out said vehicle. If that didn’t work, we’d check with the neighbors to see what we could learn about the SUV owner who lived nearby. It helped at one early stop. The owners of the SUV were in Florida for the winter. So was the SUV.

  A little after 4:30, with no success except the ability to eliminate a few people, I pulled up in front of a duplex. The two of us got out. I glanced at our list. We were looking for the occupant on the left. As we neared the door, an elderly woman opened the door of the right-hand unit.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  I flashed her my credentials, and spoke.

  “We’re looking for Jon Edwards.”

  “That’s my grandson.”

  “Is he in?”

  “No, Jon went home for the weekend.”

  “Could you tell me when he left and when he’s expected back?”

  “Is he in some kind of trouble, Lieutenant?”

  “No, I just want to talk to him. He hasn’t done anything wrong that I’m aware of.”

  “I knew that boy wouldn’t do anything wrong. He doesn’t do anything but study. He’s a graduate student.”

  “And when did he leave and when is he expected back?”

  “Sorry, Lieutenant. I’m not used to being interrogated by a policeman. Jon left Thursday afternoon. He should be back some time tomorrow night.”

  “Well, thank you for your time.”

  +++

  At 5:30, dead tired, Lou and I decided to call it a day. We were still worn out from the night before, and were tired of freezing and watching our breaths go before us. Both of us were tempted to wait until Monday before contacting any more people, but we knew we’d have a better chance of finding people home on a wintry Sunday afternoon in January than we would on Monday morning. We would rest for the night, go to church on Sunday morning, grab a quick bite to eat afterward, and work through as much of our list as we could. Somewhere, there was someone who could help us solve this case. We merely needed to find out who this person was and talk to him or her.

  Lou and I left for dinner, then both of us retired early. Sunday would be almost as busy as the previous two days.

  +++

  I awoke Sunday morning more refreshed. A good night’s sleep had definitely helped. Also, it stirred my heart to be able to look forward to church, instead of immediately heading to work. I showered, spent time reading my devotionals and in prayer, then left the house to pick Lou up. Two hours later, we were nourished by the magnificent éclairs the church offers each Sunday, and blessed by the pastor’s message. We lingered a few minutes to visit, then hurried out the door and ate much too fast. Lou and I wolfed down two half-pound burgers with everything, two large orders of fries without the much-needed gravy that makes them worth eating, and two super-sized drinks. There was no time to waste. We were about to take off some of the pounds we had put on so far that day.

  We worked until a little after 7:00, satisfied that we’d made it through all but twelve people on the list, but dissatisfied that we hadn’t found our man. Frustrated, I drove to Antonio’s for some good Italian food to help me rest easier. The sour looks left our faces as soon as our server plopped down a large order of Italian nachos. We finished seconds before she returned with veal parmesan for me, and spaghetti and meatballs for Lou. By the time we finished, our spirits had almost been lifted to the mountaintop. A couple of desserts would take us the rest of the way.

  31

  Lou had a smile on his face when he opened the car door on Monday morning. I looked at him, raised my eyebrows. His look turned serious, funeral serious.

  “Okay, Lou. What’s up?”

  “The end is near,” he said in a most serious voice.

  “What end? The end of the case, or the end of the world?”

  “Since Jesus told us we will not know the time when he returns, I’ll guess that the case is almost over.”

  “Great! Who did it?”

  “I’m leaning toward Professor Plum, but I haven’t ruled out Mr. Green.”

  “Don’t overlook Miss Scarlet.”

  “Frankly, my dear, I don’t think she did it.”

  “If you my dear me again, you’re going to drive your own car.”

  “Just quoting Shakespeare.”

  “I believe it was Margaret Mitchell.”

  “I thought she was Dennis the Menace’s mother.”

  “Just buckle up and keep your hands to yourself.”

  +++

  We did our best to feed the hungry, and keep the Blue Moon in business, then took off to contact the twelve remaining names on our list. We found only two of them at home.

  “So much for being almost to the end.”

  “We’ve got nothing else to do. Why don’t we go back to those we didn’t find at home over the weekend?”

  “Might as well.”

  Our first few stops were fruitless. Then, I pulled up in front of the duplex we visited on Saturday.

  “I thought we found someone home here, Cy.”

  “We did, but the SUV belongs to her grandson. He’s supposed to be back from out of town. We might as well check and see if he’s here, so we can cross another one off our list.”

  “But if he was out of town, how could he be the guy we’re looking for?”
r />   “He couldn’t, but maybe he loaned his gas-guzzler to the Welcome Wagon.”

  We got out and approached the door. This time the little old lady didn’t intercept us. I approached the door on the left and rang the bell. I didn’t want to talk to the old lady again, and I figured she would be less likely to hear the bell than if I knocked. But then I had no idea how thick the walls were.

  A few seconds later, a young man answered the door.

  “Jon Edwards?”

  “He’s not in from class yet. I’m his cousin and roommate, Tom Singletary. Maybe I can help you?”

  “I’m Lt. Dekker, and this Sgt. Murdock.”

  “Maybe I’m the guy you’re looking for. Did you catch those guys yet?”

  “Which guys are you talking about?”

  “The guys in that RV that was blocking me, keeping me from getting out of that drive over on Linden the other day? The ones who were about to shoot me with a laser?”

  I had to think quickly. Evidently this guy was on the up-and-up and had reported us to the department.

  “Oh, those guys. You mean no one at the department called you?”

  “No. Could you excuse me for a minute? I have my girlfriend on the phone. I’ll tell her I’ll call her back when I’m finished.”

  As soon as I was sure Tom couldn’t hear me, I whispered to Lou.

  “Not a word of this to anyone. Now we have to find out why he’s spent so much time on Linden.”

  Just as I finished, Tom returned to the door.

  “So, how come you’re looking for Jon?”

  “Actually, I guess we’re looking for you. Are you the guy who’s made several trips over to Linden in Jon’s SUV during the last week or two?”

  “I wouldn’t say several. I think it’s been four times now. When it’s not snowing I drive my own car, but it doesn’t do well in the snow. Since I finish my paper route before John has to leave for school, he lets me drive his SUV on days when I need the extra traction.”

  I had dismissed the paperboy, when the lady in the apartment building next door told me he didn’t drive an SUV. I guess I shouldn’t have.

  “So, tell me Tom, why don’t you use the front door at Oppenheimer Arms?”

  “They lock the front door each night, and don’t open it in the morning until after I’ve delivered the papers. I don’t mind driving around back. Since it’s about the halfway point on my route, I usually sit there for a few minutes and fold a bunch of papers before I move on.”

  “While you’re sitting there folding papers, have you seen anyone else around the building?”

  “Other than that RV the other night?”

  “Yes, other than those two guys.”

  “So, there were two of them.”

  “Yes, but you don’t have to worry about them anymore. Have you seen anyone else there?”

  “Aw, so they had a break-in?”

  “Just answer the question. I’m particularly interested in a little over a week ago, the night it snowed so much.”

  “Come to think of it, I did see some guy. I was sitting there when this other SUV came flying down the driveway, going too fast for the weather, if you ask me. He had barely stopped the vehicle when he sprang from it and ran as fast as he could to the back door. It was as if the police were after him, but if so, no one came near the place when I was there, other than that RV that blocked the driveway. Do you think whoever was in that RV was after this guy instead of me?”

  “I don’t think they were after you. They could’ve been after this guy, but I wouldn’t worry about it. I don’t think you’ll see them again. Now, back to the matter at hand. I don’t guess you have any idea where this guy went.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. See, I fold my papers before I deliver to that building, and this guy came storming in while I was folding them. I was leery of him from the start, because of the way he was driving. So, I hunched down in the seat the best I could, so he couldn’t see me, but the way he looked, I doubt if he’d seen me if he’d looked right at me. Anyway, I waited a few minutes, then entered the building. He went to apartment seven. I know because that’s where the trail of melting snow led. I heard him bump against something when I passed the door as I was dropping papers. I wanted to get out of there before he opened the door.”

  I recalled that apartment seven was Tony McArthur’s apartment, then resumed my questioning.

  “So, did you recognize the man? Could you identify him?”

  “No. He was bundled up. Not only did he have on a heavy coat with the hood up, but a knitted cap that covers everything except the eyes and the mouth. Besides, I never see any of those people. Only four of them take the paper, and all of them mail their checks. And other than that night and the night I saw that RV, no one is ever up when I get there. See, it’s usually a little after 5:00 when I get there. I’m always through and home before 7:00.”

  “Well, thanks for your time. By the way, can I have your phone number in case I think of anything else?”

  “Wait a minute. I’ll write it down for you. It’s my cell, the only phone I have.”

  I refrained from telling him I would call him on my ancient, big, black phone that is chained to the wall. The only phone I have.

  +++

  Lou and I looked at each other and smiled as we buckled up, ready to get on with the case. There was no reason to talk to other SUV owners. We’d found our man. Too bad he wasn’t home the other day. It would have saved us some time.

  Still, I wasn’t sure what to do with our new information. McArthur was out of town that night. Could someone else have used his SUV?

  It was late afternoon. I made a decision to drop Lou by his place, and head home myself. Both of us would spend a couple of hours thinking about all the information we had, and try to put it together so that we could arrest someone. If we hadn’t solved the case by 6:30, I would pick Lou up and the two of us would get something to eat.

  I felt like we were almost at the end. Besides, our clue of the day said so. It was time for the two of us to look at our case like a logic problem, decide who fit in, and where. It didn’t matter if we identified someone right away, or if it meant that we had to eliminate all but one suspect. We would find our man. Or woman.

  +++

  I sat down at the dining room table with a legal pad. I began by listing each of the suspects. By suspects, I meant the people I felt could’ve done it. Not necessarily everyone we’d met. I began with the staff at the inn. I really couldn’t make a case for any of them except for Sidney Longworth, the proprietor, and Antoine Le Blanc, the chef. I couldn’t see any reason anyone else there could’ve committed the murder. If I didn’t get anywhere in the next couple of days, I could always add the others to the mix. I didn’t include everyone at the apartment building, either. The most likely suspects were Martin Mulroney, the actor who showed up at the inn as a male and a female; and Tony McArthur, the late-arriving actor who supposedly was out of town during the murders. I added one more, even though I had never met the man. Ray Phelps. Did he fit in somewhere, or was he merely a plumber who came to fix a leaky faucet that wasn’t leaking? Time would tell.

  I would begin by using the snow. Snow couldn’t lie. But did it? According to the lack of tracks in the snow, no one could’ve left the inn and delivered the note to me. Also, Mulroney was at the inn when the note was delivered, thus giving him an alibi, and McArthur was out of town. Was it time to bring in the lesser-likely suspects? It wouldn’t matter. All of them were cleared by the same snowfall as the others. That left only Ray Phelps. But how did he fit in? Unless he had a previous connection to these actors that we’re not aware of, or was paid by one of our suspects, Phelps didn’t fit in. Or did he? He left town with a lot of money and didn’t leave a forwarding address. Would it help if we could locate his rich friend? Or would we be wasting time hunting for that proverbial needle in a haystack?

  I thought again of the trailer. Could it be that someone had sneaked away from the inn be
fore the snow began to fall and come back after Lou and I checked in? Someone could have stayed in the trailer, sneaked to my place, left the note and then gone back to the trailer. After Lou and I checked in and the driveway had been cleared, this person could have driven into the garage undetected and reentered the inn through the passageway that comes out in the garage. Could someone have done that without being missed? I remembered that we didn’t see a lot of people wandering around the inn on Friday afternoon. I wrote down the name of everyone connected with the case. Okay, I skipped Lou, myself, and anyone else connected with the department. And in a weak moment, I eliminated my next-door neighbor from my list. One by one I went through the list to see who had no alibi for Wednesday afternoon, and who could have sneaked over to my house in the wee hours of Friday morning. I gave a great deal of thought to each person before moving on to the next. If no one could have been both places at those times, then someone had to have had an accomplice, whether it was Ray Phelps or someone else.

  I wrote The End Is Near at the top of my paper. It was meant to inspire me, not to get someone to call me and confess. Besides, none of the suspects had my phone number. Phone number. Maybe that’s a clue. Inspired by my new information, I picked up the black monster. I had questions for two of my suspects. If their answers were what I wanted, it might take only a few more phone calls until I could solve the case, and get about being lazy again. Lazy. I liked that. I also liked the fact that I had solved every case put before me during all my years of working homicide. Every case except one. Maybe by tomorrow I could move that one from the “in” file to the “out” file.

  I hung up from making calls to two of my suspects, one scared, one not so scared. My ducks were lining up. It would do no good for me to make more calls that evening. The others could wait until the next morning. If I received the information I wanted, an arrest would follow. Not only was I expecting an arrest, but a confession, as well. A confession from someone so bold he had sneaked down my driveway in the dark of night with an invitation for me to play his game.

  I picked up the phone and dialed Lou.