A Killing in the Market (3 page)

"That was just about the time he started acting weird around Aunt Gertrude."

Aunt Gertrude knelt down to gather up the birdseed. "I don't believe this has happened," she said, standing up again.

"Look on the bright side, Aunt Gertrude," Joe said. "There are no bullet holes, no bloodstains. Maybe Cyril—or Simone, or whatever his name is—is still alive."

Aunt Gertrude looked as if she were about to faint. "Bullet holes — bloodstains?"

"Nice work — really sympathetic," Frank said to Joe under his breath. He took his aunt by the arm and led her out of the kitchen to a seat near the dining room table, where she had left one of her knitting bags a week and a half earlier.

Just then the wail of a police siren sliced through the air. Joe went to the front door to let in Officer Riley and his partner.

"We found the place like this, but we don't know for sure what happened," Joe said. He handed Officer Riley the newspaper article. "But we did turn this up."

Officer Riley glanced at the article and surveyed the room. "Whew," he said. "I remember when stockbrokers led quiet, respectable lives."

"Whee -oo! Stockbroker, what a joker! Hey, no sweat!" the parrot squawked.

"Aah, pipe down before we book you," Officer Riley said with a smile. He took a look at the paper.

"Say, that's the fellow who stopped the cyclist thief!" Officer Riley's eyes narrowed. "Any of you know much about this guy?"

Frank and Joe looked at Aunt Gertrude, who was fingering a knitting needle nervously. "I do, Officer Riley," she said. "At least I thought I did — "

Officer Riley sat opposite her at the table. "Yes, I remember you talking to him."

Aunt Gertrude's worried look gave way to a deep frown. "I talked, but I guess I didn't ask the right questions," she said almost to herself. "I was fooled. I — I thought he was interested in me. But I guess my nephews were right. He wanted my money, the slimy, conniving — "

"A shame, Miss Hardy, a shame," Officer Riley interjected, shaking his head. "But if you'd just give me some facts about the man — "

"Some facts ..." Aunt Gertrude looked up at Officer Riley with bitter, hurt eyes. "The facts are that Mr. Henry Simone, alias Cyril Bayard, alias who-knows-what-else, swindled a woman's life savings, everything she had. Those," — she got up from the table and started pacing — "those are the facts, Officer Riley." Aunt Gertrude had turned her face away so Officer Riley couldn't see the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"Miss Hardy," Officer Riley said gently, "we may be able to find him, if you cooperate — "

"Good! Because if you do find him — that is, if he's still alive — then bring him to me right away. And I'll kill him!" She jabbed her magenta knitting needle in the air for emphasis.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then all at once Aunt Gertrude turned red with embarrassment. "Oh! Oh, what am I saying?" She sank back into her chair. "I'm so sorry, Officer! Of course I didn't mean that!"

"Not to worry, ma'am," Officer Riley said with a jovial smile. "You're upset and confused. We'll talk about this some other time."

After Officer Riley and his partner finished their report, they picked up the parrot to take it to the station house for safekeeping. Frank and Joe took their aunt home. For the rest of the evening they tried to patch up Aunt Gertrude's hurt feelings.

The next morning Joe sneaked quietly down the stairs to the kitchen. His aunt had looked so exhausted the night before that he didn't want to wake her.

As he moved toward the kitchen, he imagined he could smell the bacon he was about to cook.

Suddenly a voice called out, "Don't bother sneaking around. I'm up."

Joe entered the kitchen to see Aunt Gertrude sitting at the table in her bathrobe, nibbling on a piece of crisp bacon. "Help yourself," she said, pushing a plate of bacon his way. "How would you like your eggs?"

"How did you know I was going to come down just now?" Joe asked.

Aunt Gertrude gave him a sad smile. "I woke up at three this morning and couldn't get back to sleep."

The phone rang just then. "I'll get it up here!" came Frank's voice from upstairs.

"Can't get Bayard — Simone, I mean — out of your mind, huh, Aunt Gertrude?" Joe said.

"Not to mention my money." Aunt Gertrude sighed. "I feel like such a fool."

Before Joe could answer, the rhythmic thumping of footsteps interrupted him from behind.

"Get your jacket, Joe! We've got to move!" Frank called out.

"Wha — Wait a second! I haven't eaten! What's going on?"

"That was Callie on the phone. She says she saw ten cop cars swarming around the pier as she was driving to school. She couldn't tell what's happening, but thought we'd like to check it out."

Joe bolted up out of his chair. "Sorry, Aunt Gertrude," he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Before she could answer, Frank and Joe were out of the house and into the van. Frank threw it into gear, and they took off to the pier.

As soon as they reached Bay Road, they spotted the revolving roof lights of the cruisers reflecting off the surrounding houses. A crowd of people stood behind a barricade of wooden sawhorses, stretching to see what was going on.

"Over here, guys!" Callie's voice rang out. Frank and Joe pulled into a space and ran to her. "Officer Riley's here. I'm sure if you tell him that I'm with you, he'll — "

Frank rolled his eyes. "Callie, I don't even know if he'll let us in."

"Sure, Frank, sure. This is the thanks I get for tipping you off? See if I ever help you again!"

Frank sighed. "Let's go talk to the man."

"Great!" Callie said, following them as they slid between two sawhorses.

The three of them were at the foot of the pier when they met Officer Riley, who waved them on. At the far end of the pier a group of police officers was gathered, watching a team of divers search beneath the dock.

Callie dodged excitedly left and right between the police officers to get a better view.

Frank and Joe worked their way up to the railing and looked down into the dark water.

Both brothers' jaws fell open as they saw what one surfacing diver was holding.

The body of Henry Simone—with a magenta-colored knitting needle stuck into his chest.

CALLIE SHUDDERED AND turned her head away. "How horrible!"

Frank couldn't do much more than nod sadly as two police officers lifted the body over the railing and gently placed it on the ground. Around them, onlookers buzzed noisily. Police officers, led by Officer Riley, surrounded the body.

"Come on, Frank," Joe said, walking toward Officer Riley.

Frank looked back at Callie, who waved at him to go ahead without her. He joined his brother in looking over Officer Riley's shoulder.

"How long was he under, Con?" Frank asked.

"Oh, a day or so," he said.

"How did you know a body was down there?" Joe wanted to know.

"Received an anonymous tip early this morning," Con Riley answered, his mind obviously on something else.

Frank and Joe nodded solemnly, and Officer Riley looked away from them before speaking. "Uh — your aunt Gertrude," he finally said hesitantly. "Sounded to me as if she really wanted revenge on this fellow for swindling her."

"Well, she was angry," Joe replied. "I mean, she thought he was — "

Frank cut him off. "Why ask?"

Officer Riley turned back to face them and silently pointed to the bloodstained magenta knitting needle.

Joe stared at the policeman. "Wait a second! You mean, you think that Aunt Gertrude actually — "

Officer Riley shrugged his shoulders. "Obviously, I can't accuse anybody, but — well, you know, fellas, I've got to start this homicide investigation somewhere."

Frank and Joe exchanged disbelieving glances. "But, Officer Riley, how could you possibly suspect — I mean, of all the unlikely — of course she couldn't have done this — " Joe sputtered.

Officer Riley shook his head. "I'm sorry, boys, I'm going to have to ask you to bring her into the station for questioning. After school will be soon enough." He began walking to his squad car.

"No way!" Joe replied indignantly.

Officer Riley turned around. "If you don't," he said gently, "I will." He took in Joe's mutinous glare. "And, boys—I don't want her to know what evidence we've found — understand?"

That afternoon, right after school at two o'clock, Frank drove the van to the police station with his aunt in the back seat with Callie. Aunt Gertrude was nervously clutching the newspaper article about Henry Simone. "I still don't believe he's — " Her lips began quivering.

"Such a waste," Callie remarked, putting an arm around Aunt Gertrude.

"And now they want to talk to me? I don't understand this at all. Couldn't you have told them I'm not a murderer?"

"We all know you're not a murderer, Aunt Gertrude," Joe said. "This is more or less a formality. You'll chat with Con Riley, answer a few questions, and that'll be it!"

"I do appreciate your coming along," Aunt Gertrude told Callie as they drove into downtown Bayport. "I'd like to ask a favor though — could you please wait in the van while we go in to take care of this? It's family business."

They parked in the village square near the brick station house, leaving Callie in the van muttering about Hardys. The desk officer called Con Riley, who escorted them to his battered gray steel desk. "Would you like some tea, Miss Hardy?" he asked.

"No, thank you," Aunt Gertrude said stiffly as she sat on a wooden chair facing the policeman. "I understand you have some questions, and I'd like my nephews — whom you know so well — to stay with me. I — I'm feeling a bit fragile this afternoon."

"Fine, Miss Hardy, fine," Officer Riley said, forcing a smile. "Sit, all of you." He paced slowly across the worn green linoleum floor. "I want you to realize that my questions in no way accuse you of any wrongdoing. I'm only collecting information."

Aunt Gertrude nodded silently.

Officer Riley walked behind his desk and pulled a plastic bag with a magenta knitting needle in it out of a drawer. "Now, does this look familiar to you?"

Aunt Gertrude swallowed hard as she took it and turned it around in her hands. "Yes," she said in a parched-sounding voice. "It's like some I have."

"It seems to me that it's an unusual color, and you were holding one just like it yesterday. Is that true?"

Aunt Gertrude looked confused. "Well, yes . .."

"Can you produce your set?" Con wanted to know.

"Well, no, I can't. I — urn — seem to have mislaid one," Aunt Gertrude said, her gaze quickly flicking up to take in both her nephews.

"Mm - hmm. Now, when exactly was the last time you saw Mr. Simone?"

"We went for a long walk the night before last. Please, you're not going to ask what we talked about, are you?"

"No, Miss Hardy. Just tell me where exactly you went on this walk."

"Well, we started at the cottage and walked along Bay Road."

"Did you walk along Bay Road into town—or did you go the other way, toward the fishing pier?"

"Officer Riley," Aunt Gertrude said uncomfortably, "I don't see how any of this is your business. And I will thank you to stop asking me any more questions."

The room fell deathly silent. To change the subject, Frank asked, "Have you found Simone's next of kin?"

Officer Riley shook his head quickly. "We're still tracking them down. Let me call my contact in the New York City Police Department — he may have found someone by now." He punched the number on the phone.

As Con Riley spoke into the phone, Aunt Gertrude leaned in to Frank and Joe. "I don't think this is right!"

Frank nodded his head reassuringly. "Just do your best to answer the questions, that's all he can ask."

"All right. We've got our info," Officer Riley announced. "His only kin is a former wife who lives in Cliffside Heights — Four seventy-seven Archer Street." He raised his eyebrows as he mentioned the wealthy section of Bayport. "An expensive address. She must have had a generous alimony settlement, or she's doing well in her business."

"Which is?" Joe asked.

"She owns a restaurant here in Bayport — the Shore Inn—down on Bay Road." Riley punched more numbers on the phone. "Well, here goes. I have to make an appointment to speak to her in person. I hate informing next of kin. It's the hardest part of my job."

He paused as the phone rang at the other end. "Hello, this is Officer Riley at the Bayport police station. Uh, it's about two-thirty in the afternoon. Please call me as soon as possible." He left the phone number and hung up, explaining, "Her answering machine."

"Officer, please, may I go now?" Aunt Gertrude was almost pleading.

Con Riley sat down behind his desk, leaning forward on his elbows. "Well, actually, Miss Hardy, I still have a few things I'd like to ask you. And if you don't mind, I'll have to request that your nephews leave the room briefly." He gave Frank and Joe a sharp look.

"Fine," Frank said. "Let's go."

Aunt Gertrude sat stony-faced as they headed out the door.

As soon as they were outside the office, Joe grabbed his brother. "How could you agree to leave her alone like that?"

"Look, we both know that Aunt Gertrude has nothing to do with this. And the only other connection to Simone that we know about is his wife. Listen, I'm going to go to the Shore Inn to see if Simone's ex-wife is there. Maybe I can find out something."

"But what about Aunt Gertrude?" Joe asked.

"You stay here. This shouldn't take me long."

Joe nodded, and Frank dashed out the door and down the station steps. He opened the door to the van—to confront a smiling Callie Shaw.

"Something very interesting must be up to make you move this fast," she said.

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as he quickly explained what was up. "I'm coming with you!" she said.

"Aunt Gertrude asked — " Frank began, but Callie put her hand over his mouth.

"Aunt Gertrude asked me to stay with the van. So if you take it, I have to go with you."

"If that isn't the strangest reasoning," Frank said. Then he gave her a big smile. "Come on, partner. Let's go."