Dead Soldiers (22 page)

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Authors: Bill Crider

Tags: #Mystery & Crime

BOOK: Dead Soldiers
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Instead he said, “Speaking of people who talk more than they should, did you by any chance pay a condolence call on Mrs. Hart?“

“Of course I did. She’s one of my very best Merry Mary customers. I had to go by and tell her how sorry I was about Matt.“

“Did she happen to mention toy soldiers to you?“

Mason arched an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?“

“Because of something you said.“

“I’m not at all sure what you’re talking about.“

Burns hadn’t wanted to come right out with it, but now he didn’t see any other way.

“You mentioned that a toy soldier was found by Hart’s body. I was wondering how you knew.“

“Oh. I see. Well, as a matter of fact,
Lonell
did say something about that.“


Lonell
?“

“That’s Mrs. Hart’s name, honey.“

Honey
, Burns thought. He was back in Mason’s good graces again. She and Bruce might have an understanding, but that didn’t mean she could change her flirtatious ways.

“She shouldn’t have said anything about it. Have you told anybody?“

“No. It didn’t occur to me to tell anybody.“

“Not even Bruce?“

“No. I didn’t even think of it again. It didn’t seem important.“

“Maybe it’s not, but I wouldn’t mention it if I were you.“

“If you say so.“

She started to get up, as if she were ready to leave, and Burns reached out and took hold of her wrist.

She sat back down and looked at his hand. She arched the eyebrow again, and Burns quickly let go of her wrist.

“I have something else to ask you,“ he said, knowing that she wasn’t going to like it.

“Why you just go right ahead. I’m beginning to enjoy it here, just you and me with this whole big old park all to ourselves. It’s very romantic, don’t you think?“

Burns cleared his throat. “It’s just a big empty park,“ he said.

He wished someone else would pay a visit to the place. Why didn’t Pecan City’s residents take advantage of the amenities provided for them?

“And here we are,“ Mason said. “Two people, all alone with nothing to do.“

Burns vaguely remembered a song with words that echoed those. “True Love“? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to mention it. What had he been about to ask, anyway? Mason had thrown off his whole train of thought. No matter what people said about her, it was true that she was a very seductive woman.

Not that he was interested. He got his mind back on track and said, “I was wondering about something.“

“And I’ll bet I know exactly what it is.“

He didn’t wait for her to tell him what she thought it might be, mainly because he was sure she had an idea completely different from his own. He said, “I have to ask you about why you went to Dr. Partridge and told her that Steven Stilwell was interested in the toy soldiers.“

Mason widened her eyes. “But he
is
interested in them. He’s an antiques dealer, after all.“

“But when I was in Dr. Partridge’s office, you made it sound very much like Stilwell was the one who took them from her house. I think you might have been . . . exaggerating.“

Burns didn’t think it was possible for her eyes to widen any further, but he was wrong.

“Carl, shame on you. You don’t think I would tell a lie, do you?“

“I didn’t say you lied. I said you might have exaggerated.“

“Well, I never!“

“I’m not saying I blame you. For exaggerating, I mean. You were just trying to throw suspicion on someone besides Neal Bruce. You knew he collected soldiers, and you were afraid someone would suspect him of taking the ones that were missing. You were protecting him. I can see that.“

Mason’s demeanor changed. “I said before that you weren’t as nice as you seemed, and now you’ve tricked me again. First you lure me here to this park and pretend you like being alone with me, and then you accuse me of lying.“

Burns was so taken aback that he couldn’t answer for a few seconds. After he gathered his thoughts, he said, “I didn’t lure you here. I followed you. You’re the one who did the luring, if anybody did.“

Mason stood up. “Of all things! I never heard of anything so ridiculous. I don’t have to listen to you
any more
. I’ve been insulted enough for one day.“

She turned and stalked to her Cadillac, got in, and drove away, spinning the tires so that gravel flew up and clicked against the side of
Burns’s
Camry. He walked over to look for chipped paint, but he didn’t detect any.

Mason hadn’t admitted a thing, but as far as Burns was concerned, she might as well have. He was convinced that he was right about her lying to protect Bruce. Burns felt that he should have known all along that it was a mistake to believe her. After all, Dr. Partridge had told him that Mason was capable of anything. However, it was Partridge who had called him and had him listen to Mason’s story, so maybe Partridge had thought there was something to it in spite of its source. In the end, it had proved to be just another dead end. Worse than that, it had messed up any case that Burns had been making against Stilwell, who was probably in the clear, an innocent victim not of jealousy but of Mason’s being protective of her new lover.

The depressing thing was that Stilwell wasn’t the only one in the clear. So was everyone else unless Napier had found out that Ball had lied about his rifle.

And then there were
Rex and Suzanne Cody
. Maybe they were the guilty parties. Burns was sure Napier had talked to them, though he hadn’t mentioned it. Since they were part of the college family, Burns was sure he was expected to have a chat with them.

He looked at his watch. It was still early afternoon, so he could drive by their house, which, as it happened wasn’t too far from the one owned by the Balls. It could, however, have been on a different planet, for as nice as the Balls’ house was, the
Codys
’ was nicer. In fact,
nice
wasn’t the word to describe it; neither was
house
.
Mansion
would have been more appropriate, and it was by far the largest home in Pecan City.

Burns decided that he’d pay it a visit.

Chapter Twenty-Seven
 

D
riving through the downtown area, Burns saw that Mason’s pink car was parked just down the block from Stilwell’s antique store.

Burns thought about the conveniences of living in a small town. Mason could apologize to Stilwell, walk a short distance, and tell Bruce what had happened. You couldn’t do that in Houston. Well, you could, but it would be unlikely that the buildings would be so close together. And Burns was willing to bet there weren’t a lot of antique stores in downtown Houston.

He stopped at the college and went up to his office to tell
Bunni
where he was going and to ask if he’d had any calls or visitors.

Bunni
told him that, as usual, there had been none of either.

“I won’t be back this afternoon,“ he said. “If anyone calls, just take a message.“

Bunni
said she would and asked if the baseball game was still on for Saturday.

Burns hadn’t thought about it, but with the injury to Elliott, the faculty team wasn’t at full strength. And it might not be safe to play, what with someone sitting around to pick off members of the team. Even if Napier had the metal building guarded, there was always a chance something could happen.

“I’m not sure,“ Burns said. “Maybe not.“

He didn’t add that he sincerely
hoped
not. He wouldn’t have to humiliate himself in front of Elaine and everybody else.

“I’ll find out,“ he said, feeling better about things for the first time all day.

 

T
he Cody house, or mansion, sat at the top of Thrill Hill and looked down on all the other lesser homes around. It was surrounded by a high wrought-iron fence. A sign attached to the fence said “The Cody’s“ in old English script, and Burns reflected on the sad fact that even having millions of dollars didn’t protect people from the egregious misuse of the apostrophe.

There was an electronically operated gate beside the sign, but it was open, so Burns drove through it and onto the grounds. The drive was paved, and it curved around in front of the house so that Burns was able to park almost at the door. He was prevented from getting really close by the wide concrete porch and the steps that led up to it.

The house was a wonderful example of conspicuous consumption. It was modeled on the antebellum mansions of Mississippi, and Burns almost expected to see someone sitting on the veranda, wearing a white suit and a planter’s hat, sipping on a mint julep. At the very least he expected the doorbell to play “Dixie.“

If it did, he couldn’t hear it. The house was too well insulated for that.

Or maybe the bell didn’t work, because no one came to the door in response to it. Burns pushed it again and waited. Still no one came. Burns was a little surprised. He’d more or less expected a liveried servant to appear. The
Codys
were a little too democratic for that, he supposed.

Because of the open gate, Burns knew that the
Codys
must be at home. Maybe he should have known the people of his station entered a place like this only through the back door. He walked down off the porch and started around the house on a little graveled path that wound among the trees on the close-clipped lawn. When he got near the back, he could hear the sounds of people talking, and he soon saw that the
Codys
were enjoying the pleasant weather in their back yard on their own private putting green. Burns looked around, and he was disappointed to see that there were no mint juleps anywhere around.

“Excuse me,“ he said.

Rex Cody, who had been lining up a putt, straightened and turned around. Suzanne looked at him with curiosity, as if he might have wandered in from the slave quarters in some trashy plantation novel. If Burns had been wearing a hat, he would have taken it off and twisted it in his hands.

“I hate to bother you,“ Burns began, but Cody interrupted him.

“Whatever you’re selling, we don’t want any.“

“I told you we should have that gate fixed,“ Suzanne said.

She was in her late thirties, Burns thought, and she looked trim and fit in the white shorts and shirt she was wearing. Her husband was a little older and not as fit. His stomach pushed out his polo shirt and obscured the waistband of his golfing shorts.

“I’m not selling anything,“ Burns told them, and Cody interrupted again.

“That’s what they all say, buddy. Now get on your horse and ride on out of here.“

“Actually I’m in a Toyota.“

The
Codys
exchanged glances, as if to say, “How plebian. And a smart-ass, besides.“

“I teach at the college,“ Burns continued. “My name’s Carl Burns, and I’m the chair of the English Department. Dean Partridge asked me to come by and visit with you.“

“Oh,“ Suzanne said. “Then we beg your pardon. We didn’t know you were here on college business. I’ve contributed quite a bit of money to the school, as I’m sure you must know.“

“Oh, yes,“ Burns said, wondering if he should curtsy. “The college is very indebted to you for the furnishings in the student center, among other things.“

Suzanne smiled, and Burns could see that she appreciated the acknowledgment.

“Why don’t we sit down,“ she said, leading the way to a white metal table shaded by a large cloth umbrella, also white.

Rex looked reluctantly at the golf ball at his feet. He sighed, flipped the club, caught it by the handle, and followed his wife. Burns trailed along behind.

When they were seated at the table, Rex said, “Make it snappy, Dr. Burns. It is
doctor
, I presume.“

“It is, but just call me Carl.“

“Fine. You know who we are, and we know you. Now that we’re all cozy, state your business and let’s get this over with.“

Burns wondered if Cody dealt with everyone the same way, or if he treated only those he regarded as his underlings with disdain.

“I’m here because someone stole some toy soldiers from Dr. Partridge’s house,“ Burns said.

“Jesus Christ,“ Rex said. “And you interrupted my putting practice for that?“

“She thinks you might have stolen them,“ Burns told him.

He didn’t know why he said it. It was uncharacteristic of him. He decided that he’d been hanging around Napier for too long.

“The nerve of that woman,“ Suzanne said. “We’ll just see how long it takes us to get her ass fired.“

Burns couldn’t hide his smile. “Did you say
ass
?“

“What the hell difference does it make?“ Rex said. “She can say whatever she damn well pleases. I’m not going to have anybody call me a thief and send some second-rate English teacher to my own house to question me.“

The golf club was leaning against the table, and Burns wondered what would happen if he took it and bent it over Cody’s head. Probably he’d be thrown in the Pecan City jail, where Boss Napier would work him over with the bullwhip.

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