Arsenic and Old Puzzles Read online

  “Just because someone is a client doesn’t make them a defendant.”

  “It does to Rick Reed. The Guilford sisters don’t want to hire you?”

  “You were there. You heard them.”

  “That was when there was only one crime. They got two murders, maybe they’ll think twice.”

  “They didn’t.”

  “You called them?”

  “I would be remiss in my duty as an attorney if I failed to point out the nuances of the situation.”

  “Nice sidestep! And they still weren’t biting?”

  “Not a bit.”

  “What about the nephew? You know, that handsome young man you were so upset to find out had a fiancée.”

  “I was nothing of the kind.”

  “You looked like someone stole a prize out of your Happy Meal. It’s understandable. Your childhood sweetheart gets married, has a kid. The next eligible young dreamboat you meet immediately tosses a fiancée in your face.”

  “I think you were more disappointed than I was.”

  “That goes without saying. But I don’t try to hide it. I wear my six-plus marriages on my sleeve like a badge of honor.”

  “Six?”

  “Plus.”

  “Do I want to know what that means?”

  “There’s a gray area. What actually constitutes a marriage? Like in The Threepenny Opera, when Macheath—that’s ‘Mack the Knife’ of Bobby Darin fame, though God knows that’s before your time, too—marries Polly Peachum during a drunken revel in a ceremony performed by the Reverend Kimble, who may or may not have an official standing with the law or the church. And the marriage wouldn’t be legal anyway, since Macheath has already gone through numerous ceremonies of the kind. See what I mean?”

  “God save me.”

  “Eligible bachelor or not, you might want to consider him as a client.”

  “Why?”

  “He was apprehended prowling around his aunts’ house last night. He said he was staying over at his girlfriend’s, heard the police activity, and wanted to see what was going on without alerting his aunts to the fact he was sleeping over. Afraid he might shock their sensibilities. Though it takes quite a lot to shock a sensibility these days.”

  “And you find his story suspect?”

  “I find his story pretty much what he had to say. I mean, you’re an attorney. Could you think of another plausible reason for his being there?”

  “Just because it’s the most logical doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

  “It doesn’t mean it is, either. Anyway, he’s the nephew.”

  “So?”

  “So the aunts must have a bit of money. They own that big house. They must have some cash put away, because the B and B business isn’t exactly booming.”

  “My law business isn’t booming, and I don’t have any cash put away.”

  “Don’t digress. The point is, if the aunts have money, the nephew could inherit.”

  Becky shook her head. “Couldn’t happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “The aunts don’t have any money, except for the house, and I don’t think it’s valued at much. Look how close the neighbors are. They’re on a very small plot of land. The house is old, and in rather poor repair. I imagine the cost just to bring the plumbing and wiring up to code would seriously cut into anything they might recognize from a sale. They have a small income from the money inherited from their parents, and that’s it. Besides, there’s another nephew.”

  “What?”

  Becky smiled. “See how much you can uncover when you’re not trying to twist all the facts to support one of your own cockeyed theories. Alan has an older brother. Skipped out, lives on the West Coast, hasn’t been heard from in years. Assuming he’s still alive, he’s next in line to inherit.”

  “Even so, what if loving nephew Alan slipped his aunts a whacking dose of poison?”

  “Yeah, but they didn’t die. A lodger and the town drunk did.”

  “Sure. Because they happened to drink the poison. Which was out of the nephew’s control. It’s easy enough to poison a bottle of wine. It’s hard to make sure who actually drinks it.”

  “In the first place, we don’t know that the wine was poisoned.”

  “That’s only because the boys in Danbury are late with their analysis. The poison is sure to be in the wine.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it couldn’t be in anything else. How else was he going to ingest it? Unless the guy happened to have a hypodermic mark on him. And I don’t think even Barney Mac-Bumble-Fingers would miss that. What’s wrong with him, by the way?”

  “Who?”

  “Barney Nathan. He showed up at the crime scene last night and almost snapped my head off.”

  “Is that really so surprising?”

  “No, I’m sure I had it coming. Only I hadn’t even stepped on his toes, yet. He jumped on me the minute he came in the door.”

  “I’m sure you said something to provoke it.”

  “I just mentioned he didn’t have his bow tie on. And what’s with that? I’ve never seen him without a bow tie.”

  “Oh.” Becky nodded. “He’s having marital problems.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. His wife’s leaving him.”

  Cora’s mouth fell open. “How do you know that?”

  “Actually, he asked me out.”

  “He did what?!”

  “Well, it’s your fault. You had me make a play for him so you could get into the morgue. And now he thinks I like him.”

  “Did you go out with him?”

  “I made some excuse. I’m trying to let him down gently.”

  “That never works.”

  “I know.”

  “You gotta look him in the eye and say, ‘Dude, you haven’t got a prayer.’”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “No, that’s swift and painless. The cruel thing is stringing him along.”

  “I have a problem telling men I don’t like them.”

  “There’s a name for girls like that.”

  “It’s not funny, Cora. I got enough problems trying to live off my law practice without dealing with unwanted advances.”

  “A few free dinners would help that along.”

  “I thought we had a name for girls like that.”

  “What, thrifty? So, Dr. Barney Nathan’s back on the market. That’s interesting.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re interested.”

  Cora shrugged. “It’s been a lean year.” She heaved herself to her feet. “Well, I think I’ll go see what Chief Harper thinks of my nephew-did-it theory.”

  “You were just trying it out on me?” Becky said.

  “Just seeing if you’d like him as a client. I gather you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Not at all. But no one suspects him of anything.”

  Cora grinned. “Not yet.”

  Chapter

  18

  “Good news, Chief.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The nephew’s not nearly as good a suspect as you thought.”

  “I didn’t think he was a suspect.”

  “Really?” Cora looked at him skeptically. “You didn’t think he tried to poison his aunts and got the other guys by mistake?”

  “No. Where’d you get that crazy idea?”

  “I didn’t. And for good reason. There’s no money to inherit. And even if there was, there are closer living relatives. Do you know Alan has an older brother?”

  “No, because I don’t suspect him.”

  “Well, he does. And the aunts are not wealthy. The house is theirs, but it’s in poor repair, and can’t be worth that much money. Surely not enough to kill for.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The idea that someone would bump off the Guilford sisters to get their hands on the house. I can’t believe that nice young man would do that.”

  “I can’t, either. In fact, it never crossed my mind
.”

  “Really? How narrow is your scope on this, Chief? Is your whole investigation geared on identifying the corpse?”

  “Not at all. The Guilford sisters had poison. I’m having it analyzed now.”

  “And if it matches the poison used to kill the lodger, you’ll arrest them for the crime?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Oh? Who will you arrest?”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!”

  “No, I understand your feelings. Who but the Guilford sisters would have access to the poison? Except their nephew, of course. He could come and go, would know where the key was kept. I’m assuming the poison was locked up.”

  “It was in a potting shed.”

  “Was the shed locked?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “And who would have access to the key but a close relative? By the way, do you know what Alan’s relationship to the Guilford sisters is?”

  “He’s their nephew.”

  “Yes, but who was his father?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Didn’t think so. Anyway, Alan Guilford isn’t nearly as good a suspect as he looks, since he doesn’t stand to come into any money. Of course, he may not know that. He may look at the big house and think his aunts are loaded. He’s really just a big kid.

  “Of course, he wants to get married. That’s always an interesting complication. I wonder if that affects the situation in any way. If it pleases the aunts. If it offends the aunts. If there’s some provision in the aunts’ will that upon their death he comes into some money, unless he’s married, in which event the money goes to charity.”

  “Who in the world would write a provision like that?”

  “Some unscrupulous lawyer. I know you can’t imagine such a thing since the only lawyer around here is Becky Baldwin, who’s straight as an arrow, but there are some pretty devious people in the world. Suppose someone wanted to get their hands on the aunts’ money, and manipulated them into a situation where upon their death the bulk of their money would go to a charity that this unscrupulous person controlled?”

  Harper blinked. “Run that by me again.”

  “It’s perfectly easy. You want to get your hands on the aunts’ money. You’re drawing up their will. You write a provision whereby under certain circumstances the money will go to a dummy corporation, which is actually you.”

  “That seems incredibly convoluted.”

  “It’s a simple situation. Alan comes into the money. Unless he’s married. In which case money goes to X. Lawyer controls X. Everything’s fine until Alan decides to get married. Then the aunts have to go.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Harper said.

  “Why?”

  “You said so yourself. Alan gets the money unless he’s married. He’s getting married. The lawyer’s not going to bump the old ladies off now. He doesn’t inherit. He’s got to wait until Alan gets married, then bump the old ladies off.”

  “You’re right, Chief. If the sisters die before Alan gets married, practically everybody loses out.”

  Harper frowned thoughtfully. “Except Alan.”

  Chapter

  19

  Chief Harper offered Alan Guilford a chair. “Thank you for stopping in.”

  “Glad to do it. I just don’t know why. I already told you everything I know.”

  “There’s a few loose ends I have to tie up. Very confusing crimes, aren’t they? Two men poisoned, no apparent motive.”

  “It’s definitely poison?”

  “Oh, it’s poison, all right. We’re still on the fence about which one. It could be cyanide. It could be weed killer. Would it surprise you to learn your sweet aunts used to poison woodchucks?”

  “Yes, it would.”

  “You didn’t know they kept poison on the grounds?”

  “I certainly did not.”

  “So if someone saw you going into the toolshed, it would not be to get the poison?”

  Alan frowned. “Someone saw me going into the toolshed?”

  “If someone did.”

  “You’re saying someone did?”

  “I’m saying if.”

  “Then I don’t understand the question.”

  “Would that statement necessarily be erroneous?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t have done it. I wasn’t there.”

  “See?” Harper said. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

  “It would have been a lot easier if you just asked me if I went in the toolshed.”

  “Did you go in the toolshed?”

  “No.”

  Harper smiled. “See, that’s a rather unsatisfactory exchange. For a police officer, I mean. Ask the question, get a one-word answer. Hard to judge anything from that. Whereas the other way, we had a whole conversation about the toolshed.”

  “With exactly the same result,” Alan pointed out.

  “True. But I got to watch your responses, size up your character. It wasn’t wasted.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “No. Some cop said that on television. It sounded better.”

  Alan threw up his hands. “Is everyone in this town mad? It’s that Puzzle Lady, isn’t it? Her zaniness rubs off on everybody. Did you really drag me down here just to joke about my aunts keeping poison in the toolshed?”

  “No. I wanted to ask you about your relationship with them.”

  “It’s friendly. I don’t see them much. I’m hardly ever here.”

  “I meant your family relationship. How are you related? Are you their nearest relative? That sort of thing.”

  “Oh. Why?”

  Harper took a breath. “If your aunts were to die, would their money come to you?”

  Alan’s eyes widened. “Oh. That’s how you’re thinking. Do I need a lawyer?”

  “You have the right to an attorney.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. You mean if someone were trying to kill my aunts, would I be a likely suspect?”

  “Would you?”

  “No. The idea is absurd.”

  “Let me put it another way. Are you their principal heir?”

  “I have a brother. I’m not sure where he is. We’re not close. He’s older, if that makes any difference. I’m not even sure if he’s still alive.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “My father lost all his money on Wall Street, blew his brains out. My mother died a year later. Just wasted away. I dropped out of college. Never finished.”

  Harper nodded. “Are you familiar with the extent of your aunts’ estate?”

  “I think they own the house. I don’t know. I don’t think they’re making much money.”

  “Do they approve of Arlene?”

  “I think so. They’re so sweet, it’s hard to tell.”

  “Have they offered to pay for the ceremony? Hinted at a wedding gift to help you kids along?”

  “You’re way off base.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have a job. Arlene has money. We’re not hurting. We don’t have to depend on the generosity of my aunts.”

  “Particularly if they weren’t going to give you anything anyway,” Harper observed. “You didn’t sleep over at your aunts’ house last night.”

  “You know that.”

  “When is the last time you did?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Try.”

  “I really can’t recall.”

  “But you could if you wanted to?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have the run of the house?”

  Alan said nothing.

  “Do you have a key to the door?”

  Alan frowned.

  “I don’t think I like this.”

  Chapter

  20

  Becky Baldwin looked up from her desk. “Why Mr. Guilford. What brings you here?”

  The young man shrugged ruefully and grimaced, as if confessing to something embarrassing. “I think I need a lawyer.”

  Becky n
odded judiciously. “When will you know for sure?”

  Alan smiled. “I just had a long talk with Chief Harper.”

  Becky raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “It was not of my own volition. The chief seemed to feel he could get a line on the murders by investigating my family history.”

  “Really? Where would he get such an idea?”

  “It’s that Puzzle Lady person. That Cora Felton. She seems to think she has an insight into crime. Like some storybook detective who sits back and says enigmatic things and has people running around chasing extraneous facts and then at the end of the book makes it all make sense.”

  “You read a lot of detective fiction?”

  “Enough. That nosey Miss Marple character, for instance. A lot like Cora Felton. Always one-up on the police.”

  “You think Cora Felton’s one-up on the police?”

  “I think she thinks she’s one-up on the police. Anyway, Chief Harper’s asking me all these questions about my marriage, which is really none of his business, particularly since the date isn’t set yet. And you know women. Arlene’s a little nervous about the fact the date isn’t set, even though she’s the one who balks at setting it. And if she’s having a hard time naming a date for me, it’s going to be ten times worse when it’s a police officer asking for it. Anyway, he got all pushy, and I said, ‘Do I need a lawyer?’ and he said, ‘You have the right to an attorney,’ yada, yada, so I told him I wanted to consult you.”

  “And what does your fiancée think about that?”

  “Why?”

  “She didn’t appear too smitten with me out at your aunts’ house.”

  “She wasn’t seeing you as an attorney.”

  “No kidding. And just what does Arlene do?”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a typical lawyer question. We attorneys always ask it of prospective clients with significant others who hate us.”

  Alan smiled. “Wow. That was a mouthful. Are you this good in court?”

  “Better. I usually know what I’m fighting. Look, you come in here, want me to defend you from some unspecified charge of which you have not been accused. Fine, I need the money. But if you want me to do it, I need to know what I’m dealing with. If Chief Harper’s looking at you, he’s going to look at your fiancée, particularly since she lives next door. I’m not trying to pry into your personal life, but what’s she like?”