Read Death at King Arthur's Court Online
Authors: Richard; Forrest
âYes, call Willey P. Lynch. He's in Hartford andâ'
âI know how to reach him.'
The state police corporals warily watched Rina as Lyon returned to the gym. Doctor Lars Postman, an assistant medical examiner, had arrived with a photographer and a dour-faced duo from the state forensics lab. The technicians scurried around the gym collecting and labeling. Postman was a notoriously cheerful man who affected either a Groucho Marx walk or a James Cagney strut. It was his constant smile, bad jokes, and intrinsic good spirits under the most dire medical circumstances of death that earned him the label of Doctor Laughing Lars.
âHe wasn't in that location when we found him,' Lyon said.
Lars Postman widened his eyes and mimed a long cigar puff. âOh, really. You going to the hot-air balloon meet in Farmington on the nineteenth, Lyon?'
âI don't know, Lars. I'm just getting acquainted with my cloudhopper and I'm not quite comfortable enough with it for any public flights. We found the body supine on that bench at the end of this aisle in front of the mirrors.' Lyon walked toward the far end of the room with the doctor following. He pointed at the weights resting on their support rack. âThe barbell was across his neck.'
Lars laughed again. âI never could figure out why you bought that damn cloudhopper balloon. The thing's an accident waiting to happen. If the rats haven't eaten holes in the envelope, why don't you break the old Wobbly II out of mothballs? It's still stored in your barn, isn't it?'
âThe body had a barbell on its neck, Lars,' Lyon said in an attempt to get back to the crime.
âThat would be consistent with the injuries I have externally observed at this point.' He laughed. âHey, if you don't want to fly yourself, how about driving chase car for me? If I can't get you, I'll end up with Grumpy and Sneezy over there,' he said with a wave at the two busy lab techs.
Lyon wished that Dr Postman were more interested in the deceased than balloon meets. âHow long has he been dead, Lars?'
âWho?'
âThe corpse that you are presently standing next to.'
Lars laughed and continued his examination. âDid I tell you that I'm thinking of going wicker on my balloon gondola for the Autopsy III? It's the only way to go.'
âAny ideas?'
âSure, I like wicker because it's traditional,' the doctor responded as he bent to peer into the dead eyes of the body on the floor.
âI meant time of death,' Lyon said.
The doctor reluctantly looked at his thermometer. âDropped a degree. We're talking an hour, two at tops. The stomach contents might reveal more when I get into that.' He straightened up and gestured to the waiting ambulance attendants. âCome on guys, your turn.' The first attendant pushed a gurney down the aisle while the second shook open a body bag.
Dr Postman shook his head as he gathered his instruments. âI don't know why you want to talk about bodies rather than ballooning, Lyon. You want dead? Come down to my office. We got dozens.' He waved as he followed the body out the door. âSee you at Farmington.'
Lyon returned to the owner's apartment and was relieved to see that Rina was fully dressed in a prim skirt and conservative blouse. She sat defiantly at the small desk. The troopers sat stiffly on the couch. She seemed relieved to see Lyon return.
âI haven't been busted since my groupie days,' Rina said, âbut the pigs don't seem to change. They're the same now as they were then.'
âWho had a key to the gym?' Lyon asked.
âWho gives a damn?' was her answer.
âI do. Keys, Rina. Who?'
âNaturally Skee and I each had a set. Let's see, the guy who does housekeeping and maintenance had another set. The store manager has them too, and there's an extra set around somewhere.'
âWho else was in the building early this morning?'
âNo one. The store clerk comes in at nine thirty, as does the receptionist. Before nine it's just Skee and me. Is it gone yet? Is his body gone? I have this thing about dead people.'
âThe medical examiner just finished and they're taking the body to the ambulance. Who'd want to kill him, Rina?'
âWhy are you going on about keys and killing? Skee had an accident. The barbell strangled him. That's all there is to it.'
Lyon was not a weight lifter, but the elementary physics of Skee's last lift seemed obvious. If he couldn't make the lift and realized he was in danger, simply tilting the barbell to one side or the other would carry it away from his neck and crash it to the floor. A safe way out, unless someone was standing behind him pressing down on the bar to prevent it from tilting. âI don't think it was an accident.'
âThen it was a burglar. Skee caught someone breaking into the building and they killed him.'
âRob a health-food store early in the morning and murder a man by forcing him to lie on a bench and then putting a barbell across him? I don't think so, Rina. Any other ideas?'
âHow the hell should I know?' she said brusquely, with the return of her usual volatility. The state police corporals sitting on the couch were visibly startled. âWhat different does it make to you? You were no friend of Skee's. You're not a cop.'
Lyon didn't pursue the matter. A violent argument had erupted in the corridor. Rocco and his brother-in-law seemed constitutionally unable to carry out a conversation in normal tones.
âWhat in hell are you doing here, Norbie! This is Murphysville! This is my town, not some state satellite where a resident trooper runs things.'
âThese cases are obviously interrelated and therefore state business.'
âRelated! How the hell would you know? You don't know who's dead here.'
âWe monitor your radio, big man.'
âWho the hell talked in the clear?' Rocco bellowed at his officers. âWho the hell didn't use land lines for sensitive information? Heads will roll!' Rocco nearly screamed.
The argument moved into the room, but both men, sensing the presence of civilian personnel, lowered their voices.
Captain Norbert pointed a short blunt finger at Rina. âBook her,' he ordered the corporals.
âMurder two, Captain?' the first one asked.
âDid I order that? Did I even hint at a capital charge? I want her booked for screwing around with a crime scene and resisting. Got that?'
âI'm not going anywhere,' Rina said. âAnd the first guy that lays a finger on me gets a knee in the family jewels.'
âOh, Jesus, we got one of those,' Norbert said in exasperation. âCool it, lady. This isn't a protest rally. There's no one to see you, so why are you putting up a fuss?'
âI'm not going and that's all there is to it.'
âWe can take her,' a corporal said as he pulled a sap from his rear pocket and slapped it into the palm of his hand.
âRina, please,' Lyon said. âGo on and get it over with.'
âA good lawyer will make a great violation of civil rights case on this bust.'
âYou think so?' Rina was beginning to look interested.
âKnow so,' Rocco said as he casually scanned the room. âYou'll clear a bundle.'
âThank you, Chief Herbert,' Norbert said. âGentlemen, escort the lady to the car.'
âWhy didn't you book her for murder?' Rocco asked after the two troopers took Rina from the building. âShe probably killed Morgan for the trust money and Skee was her accomplice. The boyfriend tried a little extortion, which pissed her off, so that's why she knocked him off. You can build one hell of a circumstantial case around that scenario.'
âExcept for this little detail,' Norbert said as he pulled a fax from his inside pocket. âA copy of this came to the barracks this morning and another went to the governor's office. It was sent from the Murphysville public library.'
âThe where?' Rocco asked in astonishment.
âAren't you listening, Herbert? I said it was faxed from the Murphysville library.'
âFor Christ's sake, Norbert, that was a rhetorical what,' Rocco said as he snatched the paper and read it aloud. âThe perjurer Morgan was first. His whore the Boston Bimbo was second. Others may also die by the avenging sword of the Brotherhood of Beelzebub.'
Norbert smirked in satisfaction. âThis second message proves we have a terrorist here. I've already called the local FBI field office and asked them to come in on it. Let the Feds handle this baby and we'll both be off the hook. We get to close our files and the Feds take the heat. Neat, huh?'
âYou're telling me that some hate group is knocking off people in Murphysville?' Rocco asked.
âJesus, Rocco. Avenging swords and whores. That kind of crap smacks of terrorist agents.'
âThe fax mentioned a Boston bimbo,' Lyon said. âIs that a loose translation or is a Boston bimbo related to the whore of Babylon?'
âDon't be a wiseguy, Wentworth. They're accepting responsibility. I take that as involvement. Ten to one we get a letter tomorrow concerning the muscleman killed here this morning.'
Over the years, the town of Murphysville experienced periodic coup d'états in its unsuccessful attempt to overthrow the town librarian, Miss Emily Southgate. The participants in these insurrections were usually dedicated genre readers who objected to Miss Southgate's benign, but authoritarian censorship. Romance novels, westerns, and hardboiled detective mysteries were never purchased or ever catalogued if donated. Miss Southgate, backed by an equally conservative library board, defeated all objections handily.
Emily Southgate squinted over half glasses at Rocco and Lyon as they entered the library. She spoke in the half whisper that through years of use had become her natural voice. âThose Wobblies of yours are still not acceptable, Mr Wentworth. They are a transparent disguise for the radical IWW. The International Workers of the World were socialists, and you know we do not tolerate that in Murphysville.'
Lyon sighed in resignation over their ancient argument. âMiss Southgate, can't we just pretend my monsters are benign little guys telling a child's story?'
âI know a parable when I read one. Good day, gentlemen.'
âMs Southgate,' Rocco said. âSomeone sent a fax from here this morning. Do you know who used the machine today?'
âTwo impudent young men from the state police were here earlier asking the same questions. I will give you the same answer that I gave them. No one used that machine this morning, or yesterday morning. Not only have I been at this desk since we opened both days, but there is no notation in the fax log. You gentlemen and the men from the state police were the only people to come in the library today. And that is a sad commentary on the literacy of this town.'
âWhere's the machine?' Rocco asked.
âThrough that archway. In the reference room by the encyclopedias. As you can plainly see, no one can get to it without passing by my desk.'
Rocco and Lyon entered the small reference room and found the machine. High shelves hid it from the main desk.
âShe's right,' Rocco said. âIt's impossible to get to the machine without crossing by her desk. She said no one came in, and I believe that.'
âAnd yet we know the message came from this machine, but I doubt that our neighborhood terrorist would make a log entry. What's this door?' Lyon asked as he stepped between two shelves. âIt's unlocked.'
Rocco arched an eyebrow. âThat's interesting. Where does it go?'
Lyon eased the door open and fumbled along the inside wall until he found a light switch. A single bulb halfway down the stairs illuminated a narrow stairwell leading to a basement door. Rocco put a restraining hand on Lyon's shoulder, drew his revolver, and led the way. They opened the door at the bottom of the stairwell and entered a dim room illuminated only by light from narrow windows high on the walls. Clusters of tiny tables surrounded by low shelves holding outsize picture books indicated that they were in the children's room.
The windows in the air-conditioned room were sealed shut. The other door in the room led outside and was securely locked. They returned to Miss Southgate at the front desk.
âWhere's the children's librarian?' Rocco asked.
âPhyllis Baxter only works in the afternoons and on Saturdays when school's in session. Obviously the children are not allowed here when they should be in school. She will open at three.'
âBut she came in this morning?' Rocco pressed.
âOf course not. Why should she?'
Rocco hung up the phone at Sarge's Bar and returned to the booth shaking his head. âMy guys checked it out. The children's librarian, Phyllis Baxter, definitely did not come into work early today. She has a pretty good alibi.'
âWhich is?' Lyon asked.
âShe was setting up bingo boards for tonight's game at St Margaret and was seen by Father Leonard, five other women, and a visiting nun.'
âThat visiting nun alibi will do it every time,' Lyon said.
âI'm really wondering if Norbie was right to close everything down in favor of some religious fanatical college dropouts.'
âOf course Norbie could be right,' Lyon said. âBut there's also some other strong alternatives. Rina has a unique turn of mind, and under certain circumstances might be capable of killing her half-brother.'
âWith Skee's help. Then when he became a problem, she did away with him.'
âMorgan might have let them in the RV later that night and they used his sword to kill him,' Lyon said.
âThe same sequence can be applied to Clay and his topless dancer friend. Of all the people we know who were around the RV that night, Bambi probably had the best opportunity to talk Morgan into opening the door. Once inside the RV they disposed of Morgan and attempted to hang it on you. Bambi proceeds to get greedy and Clay does her in. But in that scenario I don't see why Skee would be killed.'