The Death of Perry Many Paws (24 page)

“Maybe not. Probably not,” Syra said. “But it does shed some more light on his apparent strangeness that Claudia said started when he was around fifteen. This would be an example of how he sort of went off kilter.”

“Right,” Diane agreed. “He got reclusive and started following women and picking up items they lost, put in creepy ads, maybe even met them and returned the items or just kept the things, who knows. It fits the elusive strangeness Claudia refers to.”

“But what about a motive for murder?” I pleaded. “No one kills someone because they have a collection of women’s personal items. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense if you insist the newspapers are going to show us why Franklin was murdered,” Grace explained. “But we only hoped that the newspapers would be the major clue to his murder. That doesn’t mean they’re going to be. This series of ads, especially if it goes all the way to …”

“I just found 1945’s ad and he found a hat left in the Methodist church on Bridge Street …”

“… the present explains why he kept the papers. If he went out at the end of March and didn’t come home until someone dropped something and then put the ad in every April 1 it would explain why he
kept all the papers. It was part of the fun, to see the ads. Who knows if he kept the stuff or actually returned it?”

“We didn’t find it at the cottage so he probably didn’t have it,” Syra chimed in. “You may have to face the fact that the newspapers aren’t going to give us a clue to anything other than the odd way Franklin’s mind worked.”

“In 1946 this Frankie character found an umbrella outside your grandfather’s bookstore, Grace! That’s exciting.”

“Too bad we couldn’t ask Willoughby and the other mannequins who exactly found the umbrella and whether they returned it,” Grace laughed. “Then our mystery would be solved.”

“There’s a wonderful recipe for ambrosia in here. I want to copy this. Does anyone have a pen and paper?” Bing asked. Diane supplied him with both from her cavernous purse. “Diane, I think you should keep on reading and see what else you come up with. It’s premature to decide this personal ad is the reason Franklin kept the papers and ignore all the other years and other news items.”

I shot Bing a grateful look but he was already bent over, carefully copying his recipe. Bing is always like this; you think he isn’t paying any attention but then he says something that indicates he has listened to everything and digested it. It occurred to me that Syra was acting completely normal so Bing clearly had not shared our conversation about their mother. Syra would be upset if she found out I was pumping Bing behind her back, especially if what he was telling me was not information she wanted to have to explain to me later. I knew I needed to get this story about Hetty straight because somehow I felt strongly, just as I did about the newspapers, that a clue to Franklin’s murder rested in that photograph and those five children.

“In 1947 Frankie found a small change purse at the bus stop on Dunbarton Street. There isn’t a bus stop there now, is there?” Diane asked.

“No.” We all answered simultaneously. Quite frankly I was getting a little tired of this Frankie jerk and his fetish. This had been going on for ten years now. This guy had to get a grip.

“And in 1948 he found a necklace on a seat in the now non-existent Fox Theater …”

Grace rattled her section of the paper to get our attention. “I have an update on Raymond Ketchum’s murder from the next year’s paper, April 1, 1939. It has that same photo …”

“I doubt he was having anything more recent taken.” Syra said.

“… and this statement:

‘A year ago today, on April 1, 1938, the body of Raymond Ketchum of 623 Danrich Street was found in Camden Woods by Ernest Whitcomb, who was out walking his dog. Mr. Ketchum had been missing from approximately 7:30 on the night of March 30 when he was supposed to attend a Knights of Columbus meeting. Subsequently, Dr. Fletcher Ketchum, brother of the deceased, received a ransom demand of $10,000. According to Dr. Fletcher Ketchum that demand was met and the money placed in the specified location. The police were not contacted as demanded by the kidnappers. The money disappeared and Mr. Raymond Ketchum’s body was discovered with a bullet hole to the head. Placed in Mr. Ketchum’s shirt pocket was a crudely scribbled note that stated, “This is what happens when you don’t pay.” Dr. Fletcher Ketchum swears that the money was placed in the exact location specified. After a year-long investigation the police still do not have any suspects in Mr. Ketchum’s murder.’

“And then listen to this from the following year, 1940. The headline is ‘Melee in Camden Woods on Two-Year Anniversary”:

‘On March 31, the two-year anniversary of the murder of Raymond Ketchum in Camden Woods, the area where his body was found was overrun with treasure seekers. A brochure distributed in Birdsey Falls and environs last week suggested that the missing $10,000 that was left as Mr. Ketchum’s ransom was still in Camden Woods. Mr. Ketchum was murdered by a bullet to the head and left with a note indicating that he had died as the result of an unpaid ransom. Mr. Ketchum’s brother, Fletcher, formerly of Bridge Street, stated that he had taken the money to the specified location in a timely fashion. Dr. Ketchum stated that a detailed map accompanied the ransom note and he had followed the map and obeyed the ransom note demands, including not contacting the police. Yet Mr. Raymond Ketchum was murdered and apparently the ransom was not retrieved by the kidnappers. The rather lurid brochure has suggested that the money is still in Camden Woods. Dr. Fletcher Ketchum has gone to the site where he left the money with the police numerous times in the last two years to show them the exact location. After a two-year investigation the police have come to the conclusion that the kidnappers did retrieve the ransom money and Raymond Ketchum was killed because he recognized his kidnappers. The inquiry into Mr. Ketchum’s murder is proceeding along these lines.’

“
What do you think that means, proceeding along these lines?”

“I would assume that they started looking at his acquaintances, people he would have recognized,” Syra answered.

“That must have been uncomfortable for everyone in town,” I mused. “After all, Birdsey Falls in 1940 was smaller than it is now, so if he got out in the community much, he probably would have at least recognized everyone in town even if he didn’t know their names. Imagine. A whole town under suspicion of murder.”

“I think the brother did it,” Bing said, setting aside his recipe list. “There were no witnesses that he even took the money to the
location. Plus, who could be easier to kidnap than your own sibling. I mean, all he would have to do is invent some emergency or something to lure him away on his walk to the Knights of Columbus meeting and there you have it. Syra could take me anywhere and I’d never question it …”

“… other than the fact that you wouldn’t leave the house so I’d have to take you somewhere in our own house …” Syra pointed out.

“… which probably isn’t kidnapping. OK. But let’s say I was normal and I left the house like everyone else does. It would be easy to persuade me to go anywhere with you because you are my sister and I trust you.”

“But that means the brother would have to want him dead and set up the whole kidnapping thing to cover up his murder. Why would he want him dead?” I asked. I couldn’t figure out why someone wanted Franklin dead and now I was worrying about why someone wanted Raymond Ketchum dead. How many murders could I possibly solve? Most likely none.

“There could be a million reasons. We don’t even know these people. All sorts of ugly things could be hidden in their relationship,” Grace offered. “I’m sure the police looked at the brother carefully. The immediate family is the first to be suspected. They must not have found anything.”

“Maybe I’ll write a book about all the unsolved Birdsey Falls murders once I finish my current Perry book. This Ketchum guy and Uncle Franklin may just be the bookends for seventy years of unsolved murders in this town.”

“I’m beginning to think you would write anything just to get out of the Perry Many Paws series,” Grace said. “Although writing mysteries could be fun. Writing true crime would be too depressing. If I were going to write something I’d …”

“Oh my God! Wait until you see this!” Syra yelled, shaking her paper at us. “Unbelievable. It’s in the wedding announcements, photo and all. Listen. It’s from April 1, 1949.

‘Sybil Mary Bright and Frank Harvey Bowe were married today in the Methodist Church on Bridge Street in Birdsey Falls. The couple picked the date of April 1, not usually associated with romance, because they met a year ago when Miss Bright lost her necklace in the Fox Theater. Mr. Bowe found the necklace and placed an ad, on April 1, 1948, in the personals column of the Birdsey Falls Gazette. Miss Bright contacted him immediately and they were introduced when he returned her necklace. “It had to be fate,” Mr. Bowe stated. “This sort of thing would never happen in a million years.” The bride wore …’”

“This has to be
our
Sybil. How many Sybil Brights could there be?” Grace asked.

“I’m already on it.” I had grabbed my phone and punched in Claudia’s number. “Hello, Claudia. Sorry to call so late. Did Sybil marry a guy name Frank Bowe? Thanks. Bye.”

“What did she say?” Bing asked.

“I only gave her a chance to say ‘yes’ but that’s all we needed to know. I can’t believe Sybil married that creepy Frankie guy.”

“It just goes to show that if you go fishing long enough …” Syra said.

“Yeah, like eleven years …” Grace laughed.

“… you catch a fish sooner or later.”

“I still can’t believe that creep was her first husband. Let’s see the picture.” I reached for the paper.

We passed the paper around and checked out the creepy Frankie, who didn’t look too odd, and the beautiful young Sybil.

“She could have done better,” was all Bing said.

“She must have thought so, too, because he was only husband number one. There were three more after him. Well, we solved the
Frankie ads. I’m glad it wasn’t Uncle Franklin. He was creepy enough without adding stalker to his list of oddities,” I said.

“The personals aren’t going to be as much fun anymore,” Diane sighed. “I’ll go back to 1938 and see what I missed while skipping ahead to look for Frankie ads.”

“I’m intrigued by this Ketchum murder story. Can you check the later papers and see if that’s covered again, Grace?” Syra asked. “For my part, I don’t think I’ll find anything better than Sybil and Frankie’s wedding.”

“I just found an old classic recipe for bread pudding. I’ll be experimenting with this and bring it to WOACA next Tuesday,” Bing informed us.

“I’ve been looking and there is nothing in ’41,’42 or ’43 that I can see. It may have moved out of the first section and into the local news. Tamsen?”

“I’m looking. Yes, here it is in 1941. Headline: Three Years. No Arrests. No Money.

‘Raymond Mayberry Ketchum was kidnapped and held for ransom on March 31, 1938. His body was found in the Camden Woods on April 1 with a fatal gunshot wound to the head. A $10,000 ransom demand had been made to and paid by the victim’s brother, Dr. Fletcher Ketchum. The money has not been recovered and there are no suspects in the kidnapping and murder of Raymond Ketchum
.

         
According to Dr. Ketchum, the ransom drop was an old maple tree on the edge of Camden Woods. The $10,000 was in a leather bag and hidden in an animal burrow that ran under the tree. Dr. Ketchum stuffed the money in the hole then immediately left the area to wait at his brother’s home for his safe return. When Raymond Ketchum had not returned by sunrise, Dr. Ketchum notified the police. Meanwhile, the police were already on their way to Camden Woods based on a call
from Ernest Whitcomb, who had discovered Raymond Ketchum’s body while out walking his dog
.

         
There have been several lines of inquiry over the past three years. Originally it was thought that Dr. Ketchum had placed the money in the wrong location and that the kidnappers never found it. This theory has led to all kinds of rumors about the real location of the missing money and searches, both professional and amateur, of Camden Woods. The money has never been found
.

         
Another line of inquiry was based on the fact that Dr. Ketchum kept exactly $10,000 in his home safe. The coincidence was duly noted by the police. Friends, business associates and acquaintances of the Ketchum family were questioned repeatedly. Dr. Ketchum claims no one but he and his brother knew he had exactly $10,000 in his safe. If that is true, the police theorize that Raymond Ketchum himself may have come up with that amount when questioned by the kidnappers. Ketchum may have convinced them this was as much as his brother could get his hands on without going to the bank and possibly alerting someone that something was amiss
.

         
There have also been theories that Raymond Ketchum was in on the kidnapping and that, after having gotten the money, the kidnappers disposed of him, indicating that the money had not been received. There are no grounds for this supposition, as both the Ketchum brothers are well-to-do and not in need of money
.

         
Dr. Ketchum was under surveillance for several months after his brother’s death. The police concede that he was very cooperative but continued to cross-examine him throughout the year following his brother’s murder. Dr. Ketchum has recently retired from his dental practice and moved out of state
.

         
Three years later the police have no arrests, no money and no suspects. We do still have treasure seekers who tramp through Camden
Woods every spring poking in animal burrows, digging up patches of dirt, even climbing trees to look for holes where the money may still be waiting for someone to discover, a discovery that would still be three years too late to help poor Raymond Ketchum.’”

“I think we should go looking for the money,” Bing suggested.