Murder in the Library (20 page)

I awoke Saturday morning
to a strange noise. It sounded like my next-door neighbor might sound on her
best day. I don’t know how I could say that. My next-door neighbor has never
had a best day. I slapped the alarm clock a few times, and finally it shut up.
When you set one as little as I do, you forget what allows them make that awful
racket and what makes them stop it. I contemplated lying there for a fortnight,
but realized that it would defeat my purpose of setting the alarm. It was time
to get up and get things in motion.

It seemed like months
since the Colonel called and invited us to his house.    

Over the twenty plus
years I’d spent in homicide only a few cases had taken longer to solve than
this one. I hoped that this one would come to a rapid conclusion in a matter of
hours, and my choices on what to do on Monday would include coming home to read
after breakfast, or giving the Scene of the Crime some more of my money.

I initiated the twelve
step method to remove myself from my bed and stood looking at my clock, my
old-fashioned clock. The hands pointed to 6:03. Yes, it has hands. I did say it
was old-fashioned. I made it a point to consult the Guinness Book of World’s
Records to see if someone of my girth rising from a bed in only three minutes
was a record. If not, I wasn’t going to set the alarm again the next day in
order to achieve that status.

I tried my best to wipe
the sleep from my eyes as I stumbled to the bathroom. If I hadn’t tried both at
once, it is possible that I wouldn’t have banged my elbow on the door casing.
Naturally, it would have to be my right arm, my shaving arm. But I’d tough it
out. Cops are known for toughing it out. Otherwise, I would’ve moved a long
time ago. I remembered the time I dreamed that Lou and I showed up late enough
for church that someone snatched the last donut just before we arrived. To miss
out on a donut at the only place where my candy doesn’t accompany me is
toughing it to the nth degree. However, I’m not sure if toughing it out in
dreams is quite the same.

Somewhere around 7:00, I surprised my next-door neighbor with my early departure, and left tread marks in
the street as she opened her front door. She sicced the dog on me, but that
wimp was no match for Lightning.

+++

Lou opened Lightning’s
door, sat down, shut the door. He buckled and looked at me.

“Lou, do you think God’s
message for the day will help us solve the case?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know. God’s
message is ‘I don’t know.’ Well if God doesn’t know, who does? What you do
mean, ‘I don’t know.’ Doesn’t the Bible tell us that God knows everything?
There’s even a word for it. What’s that word, Lou?”

“Omniscient.”

“That’s it, Lou.
Omni…whatever you said. All those words for God start with ‘omni.” All this.
All that. God’s all everything. There’s even a building in Atlanta named the
Omni. Is it still there, Lou?”

“I don’t know.”

“Right, and who’s on
first. Anyway, I’ll ask someone who has a computer. They’ll know where to look
to see if the building has been razed. If God doesn’t know anything anymore,
the building’s probably gone.”

“You could ask someone
who’s been to Atlanta.”

“And I could call up the
Omni in Atlanta, and if anyone answers, the building’s still there.”

“Cy, I think you’re too
charged up. Take a bite of candy.”

“Good idea, Lou.”

I reached into my
pocket, yanked my candy out, took a bite.

“How’s that, Lou?”

“I’d say you’re still
too charged up.”

“Why’s that, Lou?
Because I didn’t check to see if I’d eaten more than one almond?”

“Partly.”

“And what’s the other
partly?”

“Well, in all the years
I’ve watched you eat your candy, Cy, this is the first time I saw you take a
bite, paper and all.”

“I thought it tasted
funny.”

I pulled over and practiced
some Lamaze breathing. It didn’t work. My stomach was still there. And God
still didn’t know.

“Lou, why do you think
God told you to say ‘I don’t know,’      and don’t say ‘I don’t know?’”

“God didn’t say, ‘I
don’t know.’”

“I know you say you
don’t say that God gives you the idea each day, but why did your thoughts tell
you that?”

“They didn’t, Cy. You
asked me, ‘Lou, do you think God’s message for the day will help us solve the
case?’ and I said, ‘I don’t know.’”

“Right. So why did you
say that?”

“Cy, get a grip. I said
I don’t know if you will use the clue to solve the case, not that ‘I don’t
know’ was the message.”

“So, God still knows. Of
course He does. But what I don’t know is today’s clue. Enlighten me.”

“Joanne Woodward.”

“The actress?”

“No, the rugby player.
What other Joanne Woodward is there?”

“Well, there’s the rugby
player.”

Only the fact that Lou
and I had pulled up in front of the Blue Moon kept Lou from choking me. We
stepped out of the car, opened the door. I couldn’t move.

“Now, Cy. Get ahold of
yourself. We’re not eating here today.”

Somewhere faraway I
heard Lou’s words, but up close I saw some old guy sitting on my stool. My
stool. I thought surely our stools were like retired jerseys from sports teams.
No one other than Lou or I would use them.

“Cy, stay calm.”

“That’s easy enough for
you to say, Lou. No one’s sitting on your stool.”

“Would you like for me
to ask the elderly gentleman if he’d be just as comfortable on my stool.
Remember, Cy, we’re not using our stools today. We’re eating at the station
with the others. You don’t want this old man and Rosie to pick you out of a
lineup, do you?”

“You mean Rosie would do
that?”

“I don’t know, Cy, but
an old man's declaration carries a lot of weight.”

“I carry a lot of
weight, too, Lou.”

“Just don’t end up in
the slammer with Belding.”

“That’s a thought, Lou.
I’ll throw this old man off my stool. They’ll throw me in the slammer, and
while I’m waiting for the lineup, I can beat Belding to a pulp. I wouldn’t be
acting as a police officer then, would I?”

“No, Cy, I’d say you
wouldn’t be acting as a police officer ever again. Now, what’s that smell, Cy?”

“The old man smells,
too.”

“I’m talking about
breakfast. You do still like to eat breakfast, don’t you, Cy?”

“Of course, Lou. I guess
it’s that I’m nervous about today. Plus, I had two, not one, but two nightmares
about my next-door neighbor last night. That’s enough to drive anyone crazy.”

+++

Lightning had never
smelled so good. The smell of bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns, biscuits, and
gravy wafted from the back seat and stirred the air around us. Just like the
night before, I was tempted to dash for home and serve a humongous breakfast
for two. I envisioned the rat from next door gnawing on my ankle and food
flying everywhere.

Lou and I arrived at the
station five minutes before the first of our witnesses. We’d decided the night
before that we’d whisk the witnesses in before we deposited any of the
suspects. All of our witnesses arrived within a couple of minutes of each
other, so each got a brief look at the others. None were told that those other
guys were witnesses too. We didn’t want talking among the witnesses, so we
placed them in adjacent rooms, rather than put them together. The younger two
seemed terrified to be there. And they were the witnesses. Lou or I asked each
of them what he wanted to eat or drink, got it for them, and left them alone
with their breakfasts. We told them we’d return after breakfast with details
about the proceedings. We brought out our finest dinnerware and glassware for
the occasion.

All of our suspects made
it in unscathed. None tried to escape on the way to the station. We didn’t care
if suspects talked to other suspects, but we did separate them into groups of
Colonel friendly and Colonel hostile, based on what we knew about them. We
didn’t want someone to recognize someone else and murder them on the spot.

I breathed a sigh of
relief after each person had received his or her food. There was enough left
for Lou and me to enjoy as much as we usually did. Unbeknownst to us, there was
a box with our names on it. I opened it and smiled. There were four pieces of
pecan pie for the two of us, with a note that said, “Sorry, but I couldn’t
figure out a way to add the ice cream.” If I ever get married again, Rosie’s the
woman for me.

In a matter of minutes,
George joined us, and there was still enough food for all of us. We refrained
from bringing out the pie until after George excused himself to take care of
some police business. While he was there, we went over the agenda for the
morning.

I entered the first of
the rooms that housed our witnesses just as a young woman was removing the tray
and dishes.

“So, how was breakfast,
Mr. Downey?”

“Better than anything I
could fix myself, and I’d put it on par with those truck stops I frequented.
But could you leave the glass and bring me some water?”

“No problem. We’ll bring
you a clean glass and a pitcher of water.”

“Now, Mr. Downey, let me
fill you in on what we’re going to be doing here today. We have several people
who will be taking part in a lineup. We’ll take you into a room with a glass
window that will allow you to see them, but they cannot see you. One at a time,
we’ll ask them to step forward and stand until we ask them to step back. I want
you to concentrate on each suspect to see if he could be the person we’re
looking for. All of these people will look something alike, so look carefully.
You will have a piece of paper that will allow you to jot down any notes you
want to take, because we don’t want you to identify anyone or eliminate anyone
until you’ve seen all the suspects. Because there are so many of them, we’ll
have more than one lineup. Any questions?”

“No, it sounds
straightforward.”

“Okay, each of the
witnesses will go in one at a time, so you will return to this room after each
set of people. I don’t know how long all of this will take. We are still
rounding up people for the later lineup. We’ll let you know when we’re through.
And thanks again for your willingness to help.”

“I don’t think I had any
choice.”

“Well, we still
appreciate your help.”

+++

I stepped out into the
hallway. An officer informed me that Lou had just left one of the witness rooms
and entered the other. I waited for him to return.

A couple of minutes
later, Lou returned and we compared notes. Only Dick Morrissey, the seasoned
veteran with the best look at the long-haired man, seemed to be at ease with
what was going to take place.

+++

Lou and I walked down a
corridor to where the suspects were waiting. I took one room. Lou walked into
the other. We decided to let the family and close friends of the Colonel be in
the first lineup. That meant that we’d leave Belding in lockup a little longer.

I walked in, looked at
Martha, and addressed the group.

“Good morning, everyone.
I hope all of you had a good breakfast. I stopped in to let you know what we’re
doing here today. We believe that the person the witnesses saw enter your house
was the same person we captured on film. This person had long-hair and a beard.
Since no one we know resembles this person, we believe that whoever it was wore
a disguise. We’ve had a team of experts design a disguise that closely
resembles that of the perpetrator. We want each of you to don a disguise, walk
out to your assigned number, and take your place. When your number is called, you’re
to step forward and remain there until you’re asked to step back. Any
questions?”

“What if someone thinks
the beard and long hair make me look like the murderer?” Scott asked.

“I don't see that
happening unless you’re the murderer, and you’re not at the top of our list.
When it's over, I think you'll feel much better than you do now.”

“But how reliable are
these witnesses?”

“Well, one of them told
me he could definitely identify the man if he saw him. From talking to him, I'd
say he can. At least, we'll know what he thinks after he has seen everyone
we've brought in. And we have two other witnesses besides. Since all three will
not see people at the same time and feed off each other, it would seem awfully
convincing if all three identified the same person.”

When I received no
protests or other questions, I left them to themselves.

+++

Nervously, Lou and I
stood in the hall waiting for our signal to summon the first witness. We
arranged a schedule of from youngest to oldest, so Mark Blakeman would be
first. In a manner of minutes that seemed like hours, George came and gave us
the signal. I waited a few seconds, took a deep breath, and then opened the
door to give Blakeman his cue.

Lou and I accompanied
Blakeman to his observation post. He tensed as, one by one, six persons, who
looked remarkably alike in long hair and beards, shuffled in and went to his or
her spot.

The sergeant in charge
had done enough lineups to know that things go better if the witness is given a
few moments to study all the suspects before parading them forward one at a
time. Lou and I studied them, too. We knew who the six were. I wanted to see if
I could identify all of them in their getups. I guessed, but I wasn’t sure. I
wondered if the lineup was a good idea after all.

A minute or so later,
Sgt. Watkins spoke, and number one stepped forward and held his or her station.
I looked again. My guess is that it was Trish, but I wasn’t one hundred percent
sure that number one was a female. How were any of our witnesses going to
identify someone he saw only briefly?

A few minutes later, the
suspects were instructed to leave, and Blakeman turned around. As he turned, he
appeared to be about ready to say something. I stopped him before he could, and
told him that any comments about any of the suspects would have to wait. He
acquiesced.

The suspects didn’t
actually leave, but since we wanted all our witnesses to have the suspects make
the same dramatic entrance, we had them step out of the room.

Downey
went second, and again
things went off without a hitch. Well, I guess they did. All I knew was that I
needed to sneak a bite of candy before informing Dick Morrissey that it was his
fifteen minutes of fame.

+++

Each of the people we
brought in was fingerprinted before taking part in the lineup. While Lou and I
were busy handling the lineup, George headed off to see what results the
fingerprints would give us. He returned with a smile on his face, just as we
closed Morrissey’s door after the second lineup. I knew from the smile on
George’s face, we had a match.

“So, George, my good
friend, what do you have for us?”

“We have prints that
match those we found in the house.”

“I expected we might.
And we have a positive ID from one of our witnesses. I wasn’t sure we’d get
that.”

Lou, George, and I
compared notes and found out that George’s fingerprints and our witness
identified the same person. All we had left to do was gather enough evidence to
force our murderer into a confession.

“As you two know, the
person who murdered the Colonel looked nothing like the long-haired man in the
picture. Since we don’t have the disguise actually worn by the murderer, I’d
say that that evidence is hidden in a safe spot. George, I assume that Judge
Heller is available to sign a search warrant for you.”

“Right down the hall as
a matter of fact.”

“Then get a team over
there and find something to help us nail our murderer.”

I had no idea what
evidence we would find, but I had an idea where we could find it. I instructed
George and sent him on his way. Lou and I didn’t want to give anything away, so
we prepared a message for each group. We told the suspects that it would be a
while longer, that we were about to consult our witnesses, plus there was word
that another witness had stepped forward. That message was received with a
collective groan, but let them groan for a while. We returned to tell our
witnesses that there might be a couple of more suspects, and we were waiting a
while longer to see if they materialized. We promised both groups lunch if the
proceedings kept us past the noon hour.

I looked at my watch
when George left, and again when he returned. Once again a smile creased his
face.

“We have everything we
need, and more. Look at all this stuff, Cy. And I found it just where you said
I would.”

“That’s all a relief,
George. Actually, I didn’t know for sure that it would work, but then, I was
telling the truth when I said I didn’t know for sure who our murderer was.
Well, let’s get this over with.”