And a Puzzle to Die On (19 page)

“That’s right.”

“This is the point at which you’re letting the case drop?”

“The client is letting the case drop. Who, if you wanna interview her, doesn’t know a damn thing more than you do.”

Aaron frowned.

“Horribly unsatisfactory situation,” Cora said. “I’ve been fired. I have no business poking around in this anymore. I have no status whatsoever. You, on the other hand, are an investigative reporter. You have the whole weight of the
Bakerhaven Gazette
behind you. You could probably ask anyone anything you want.”

“Yeah, if there was a story in it.”

“Hey, there’s probably no story in it,” Cora agreed pleasantly. “Mysterious strangers hiring attorneys in the names of real people and sending cash retainers in the mail. Yeah, doesn’t sound like a story to me.”

“Maybe Aaron could find out something that would get you hired again,” Sherry suggested.

“That’s not gonna take facts,” Cora said. “That’s gonna take money.”

“Even a juicy fact?”

“I don’t know. Bring me some juicy facts. The juicier the better.” Cora refilled her iced tea. “Anything else happening? Not that I’d expect the two of you to notice.”

A CLUE FOR THE PUZZLE LADY

ACROSS

DOWN

“Yeah, you got a birthday card,” Sherry said.

Cora groaned. “Not another one of Harvey’s puzzle friends. Where is it, on the computer?”

“No, this is a real card. Came in the mail.”

“A real card? You mean like paper? An envelope you rip open, and the whole bit?”

“Sure looks like it,” Sherry said.

“Who’s it from?”

“I didn’t open it.”

“Why not?”

“You think I read your mail?”

“You read my e-mail.”

“I
pick up
your e-mail. That’s entirely different.”

“And you tell me what it says while I’m reading it. Like the postman in that Dylan Thomas play.”

“
Under Milk Wood
?”

“That’s the one. Whose wife steams open the mail so they can read it. You steam open my birthday card?”

“It was a great temptation, but we resisted.”

“I guess you had better things to do.” Cora held the card up to the light. “Hard to tell what it is.”

“
You’re
allowed to open it,” Sherry pointed out.

“Oh, thank you. Don’t mind if I do.”

Cora tore open the envelope, took out the card.

It wasn’t a card.

It was a piece of paper, folded into quarters.

Cora unfolded it.

It was a puzzle.

“Oh, Christ!” Cora said. “Another damn puzzle. Can’t anybody spring for a Hallmark card anymore?”

“Let me see,” Sherry said.

“It’s not even a
good
puzzle,” Cora griped. “Hardly any clues. Hardly any words. Like Harvey asked somebody who really didn’t wanna do it, but couldn’t say no.”

Aaron Grant, looking over her shoulder, said, “Not only that, they’re all the same length.”

“What?”

A CLUE FOR THE PUZZLE LADY

ACROSS

DOWN

Aaron pointed. “The answers. They’re all six letters long. So what are the clues?”

Cora read them off. “ ‘A flock of crows.’ ‘Dial M for blank.’ ‘Knock off.’ Oh, my God!”

Cora’s mouth fell open as the answer dawned on her.

“This is ridiculous,” Cora grumbled, as Sherry pulled the Toyota out of the driveway.

“Ridiculous?” Sherry said. “You just got a death threat.”

“It’s not a death threat. It’s just a stupid puzzle.”

“It’s
not
a puzzle,” Sherry said. “There’s no such thing as a puzzle where every answer is
murder
.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not? It’s too easy to solve, for one thing.”

“Hey, when it comes to solving puzzles, I can use all the help I can get.”

“Oh, stop it. You read three clues and said, ‘Oh, my God, it’s murder.’ ”

“Well, what else could it be?”

“Nothing. That’s the whole point. It’s a threat, and the chief should see it.”

“He could see it tomorrow.”

“Oh, like nothing happens at night? When did that rock come through the window?”

“You’re taking this way too seriously.”

“Cora, I don’t know what you’re mixed up in here, but this is sick.”

“We could have just called him.”

“No, he should see this.”

“What, like he wouldn’t believe us?”

“Of course he would. But it’s hard to describe. ‘Chief, we got a puzzle and every answer’s
murder
.’ ‘What?’ ”

“We don’t even know if he’s there.”

“He’s there.”

“This time of night?”

“It’s not that late.”

“We should have called.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t. And we’re almost there. So why don’t you stop griping about it.”

Sherry drove down the main street of town. There was a cruiser parked in front of the police station.

“See, I told you he’s here.”

Sherry pulled up next to the police car. Aaron pulled in alongside.

The door of the police station opened and Chief Harper came out. “Hi, what’s up?” he asked.

“Cora got a threatening letter,” Sherry told him.

“Well, I wanna take a look at that. Can you give me a moment? I gotta go see Edith Potter.”

“What for?” Aaron asked.

“I don’t know. Jimmy’s probably in trouble, or something.” Harper started across the street. “Come on. Bring your letter. What type of threat is it?”

“It’s a puzzle,” Cora said.

“Yes, I suppose it would be. And what does the puzzle threaten?”

“Murder.”

Chief Harper stopped at the foot of the library steps. “I beg your pardon?”

“Show him,” Sherry said.

Cora unfolded the puzzle and handed it over.

“There’s no answers filled in,” Chief Harper pointed out.

“No, but they’re all murder,” Cora told him. “Look at the clues.”

Chief Harper read them over. “That is strange. Come on, we’ll make a copy.”

They went up the steps of the library and in the front door.

“SURPRISE!!!”

The one-hundred-and-fifty-plus people jammed into the library foyer, front desk area, reading room, computer alcove, and rare-book room, all shouted in unison. They wore party hats and carried noisemakers, which they blew with wild abandon.

It was hard to tell just how many people were there because the library was awash with streamers, banners, balloons, crepe paper, and confetti. A huge sign hung over the front desk:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PUZZLE LADY
!!!

Cora was astounded. She gawked at the crowd. Everyone, but everyone, was there. There was Iris Cooper, in a silver party hat, and was that, yes, Judge Hobbs in a purple pointed one. Cora almost wished she had a camera as the august jurist blew one of those rolled-up paper party favors that come shooting out like a sword. And there was Mrs. Cushman of Cushman’s Bake Shop, and Officer Sam Brogan, and Judy Douglas Knauer, of Knauer Realty, and Dr. Nathan, dapper as ever in a red bow tie, with matching red
party hat. And there was Jimmy Potter, obviously in no trouble, standing with Chief Harper’s daughter, Clara.

Oh, was Chief Harper going to get it!

From out of the crowd came Harvey Beerbaum. His eyes were sparkling, his face was wreathed in smiles.

The library fell silent.

Harvey pranced up to Cora, took her by the hands.

Cora cocked her head. She growled: “Harvey Beerbaum, you are in
such
trouble!”

Everyone laughed and cheered.

Harvey gave Cora a big hug. “Pretty good, huh? Tell me, did you ever suspect this was going on? You didn’t, did you? You know why? The puzzles. I fooled you with the puzzles. That was the master stroke. Like a magician, I directed your attention to one hand, while I appropriated the playing card with the other.” He frowned. “Or whatever the saying is.”

“Palmed the ace?” Cora prompted.

“That’s the ticket. Anyway, did you have the faintest idea this was happening?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You mean you came because you
knew
?”

“Fat chance, Harvey. I swear, I’m gonna get you for this.”

Harvey laughed. The little wordsmith was like a kid in a candy store. “Come on! Come on!” he exhorted. “You have to see this!”

The crowd parted as Harvey led Cora past the main desk into the central hallway that connected the original frame library building with the modern addition. Two stories high, with a skylight, the hall had a spiral staircase leading to the upstairs stacks, with a balcony all along the side wall. Taped to the balcony
rail, in huge letters, was the sign,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CORA
!

Centered under the sign, two four-by-eight-foot tables had been pushed together to form an eight-by-eight square.

On the tables was the largest cake Cora had ever seen. It was flat and square. It was frosted with black-and-white icing.

It was decorated in the shape of a crossword puzzle.

“See!” Harvey cried triumphantly. “Isn’t it phenomenal! Everybody baked a square, and we conjoined them with frosting, and we constructed a puzzle cake. Isn’t that the most lovely thing you’ve ever beheld?”

Cora barely heard him. She was fixated on the clump of birthday candles clustered in 22 and 23 Across. “What’s with the candles, Harvey?”

“Oh. Well, you see, no one would tell me just which birthday this was you were having. Silly, don’t you think? And I couldn’t ask you, for fear of spoiling the surprise. So I put in twenty candles, just to have some.” He smiled roguishly. “You
are
over twenty, aren’t you?”

“What about that one?” Cora pointed to a lone candle in square 55.

Harvey smiled. “Why, Cora Felton! Surely the Puzzle Lady is familiar with that old saying.”

“What old saying?”

“You’re not? I’m amazed. ‘And one to grow on.’ The extra candle on the cake is to grow on. For instance, a six-year-old boy would have six candles on his cake, and one extra candle, to grow on. You really never heard of it?”

Cora had had it. It wasn’t enough to be ambushed
by this surprise party, now she had to put up with being needled about her knowledge of linguistics?

“Harvey Beerbaum,” Cora said severely. “At my age, which, by the way, is none of your damn business, I have done all the growing I intend to, thank you very much, and you can take your extra candle to grow on and stick it—”