A Crossword to Die For (28 page)

Rosco stood and whispered. “I think I'll take this one elsewhere.”

Belle watched him cross the oak-beamed tavern room and slip upstairs to the hotel's lobby while Marie-Claude leaned toward her and uttered a sotto-voce: “Your husband is a wise man,
ma chère
… Sometimes, the walls, they have very sharp ears. Perhaps you can understand why I appear to speak in non sequiturs when in my office at the university.” Then she sat back and smiled for all the world to see. She was the picture of an academic entertaining out-of-town guests. “You know, this building dates to 1756 … Many
clandestin
gatherings must have occurred here since that time, wouldn't you agree? In fact, I read of one such
conversation
in December of 1776—shortly before your General Washington crossed the Delaware River … I believe we French were involved in some
petit
fashion …”

Belle nodded although she felt trapped in Marie-Claude's typically circuitous conversation.
Let's cut to the chase!
her brain railed, but her companion merely perused her glass of white wine. “So, you see,
chérie
, we inhabit a secretive
region
… Life and death: always a
balance
…”

Belle also stared at her glass. The questions she most yearned to ask concerned her father, but what she chose to say next was an oblique: “Is this Woody's life you're speaking of?”

Marie-Claude nodded almost imperceptibly. “And François.”

“You suggested that he's still alive?”

Marie-Claude tossed her hair. “For your—shall we say—well-being, these are issues better left unclarified. Franklin Mossback is dead … but a name is merely
un nom
… What did Shakespeare say? ‘A rose by any other name'?”

Belle gazed at her searchingly while Marie-Claude lowered her eyes. When she resumed speaking, her voice was the merest whisper.

“Do not think of me as a
horrible
person; do not assume that your father and I were carrying on
une affair de coeur
. The picture we presented was only that—a picture …
Theodore
was a friend only … and a sometime … well, a transporter of information—as we all are in our own way. You bring me news today of a man named Mike Hurley. I tell you … other things …” Then the whisper grew even fainter. “Make no mistake,
chère belle
, in this war on drugs, government officials on all sides are involved … Some of these persons are good; some are not.” She looked up. “Ahh, yes. You assume that all secret agents are virile young men equipped with numerous stealthy weapons. You are wrong … The most effective operative may be a dottering old lady in a bookstore.”

Belle's gray eyes grew thoughtful.
What to believe of Marie-Claude's fantastic tale of secret informants and government agents? What not to believe?
“So, you're telling me that my father never boarded an airplane for Belize?”

Marie-Claude laughed.
“Sacré-Coeur!
Not our Teddy. He purchased the tickets … Nothing more need be said.”

“And
Wooden Shoe?
The boat Father purchased?”

Marie-Claude gazed across the room. “A paper trail—”

Belle sighed in baffled frustration. “I can't fathom the idea of my father being some type of operative.”

Marie-Claude placed her hand on Belle's wrist, but Belle pulled her arm away. “Ah,
ma belle
, your
cher papa
's involvement was the barest minimum … A name on a ticket and on an ownership document, an infrequent visit to see the wife of a friend … With that, we end our discussion. Your
papa
would not wish to place you in peril.” Marie-Claude Araignée suddenly glanced across the tavern. “So!
Bon!
Here is your dashing husband returning.”

The two women remained silent as Rosco approached and dropped into his chair.

“That was the Kings Creek Police Department. They've arrested Mike Hurley. Al Lever and the FBI have been notified.”

No one spoke for several minutes. Finally Belle said, “I had assumed that apprehending my father's killer would please me. I guess the illusion was that it would bring him back—that he and I could make amends … A fairy tale ending.”

Rosco took her hand. “The police in Kings Creek also informed me they found the car that struck Debbie Hurley. It's owned by a local with a history of DUI convictions; he claims he doesn't remember anything, but witnesses at a bar he frequented have confirmed the time he lit out—”

“So, it was an accident?” Marie-Claude asked.

Rosco's answer was stony. “If you call drinking until your brain is too impaired to function, and then driving an automobile, an
accident
… From my point of view, the only accident is that Deborah Hurley happened to be crossing the street when this idiot careened around the corner—”

“At least her death wasn't orchestrated by Carl Oclen,” Belle interjected.

“She's still pretty damn dead,” was Rosco's bitter reply.

“Ah, yes … Savante,” Marie-Claude added slowly. “We were so certain this Oclen was
responsable
for your father's murder—”

“We?”

Marie-Claude stared enigmatically at Belle. She said nothing.

“Was it Woody who constructed the puzzles?” Belle asked after another edgy moment.

“No. I cannot answer that.”

“Was it Franklin?”

“Please …”

“Was it you?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss this.”

“But the reference to hydrocyanic acid?”

Marie-Claude laughed. “A guess … But perhaps not an uneducated one. Adding the substance to a container of peach nectar would not be an insurmountable task … Surely everyone knew of his foolish addiction.”

Belle closed her eyes. Marie-Claude continued:

“This is a type of crime not uncommon in countries where the drinking of sweetened fruit juices is an everyday practice.”

It was Rosco who spoke after another moment of silence. “Well, whatever the mistaken assumptions as to who murdered Professor Graham, the final result is that the Savante Group has a lot of answering to do—to Rachel, the Tolliver family, and all the residents in the Oak Lane region.”

“Ahhh,” Marie-Claude said with true sadness. “But if only you had been able to connect this
Monsieur
Oclen to the first two word games you received … Perhaps events would have turned out differently.”

Belle shook her head. “Even if we'd noticed SAVANTE GROUP INC running on the diagonal of the
“It Hurts So …”
crossword, it wouldn't have helped. Debbie Hurley would still have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Marie-Claude stood. “I am afraid I must leave you now. I have a lecture to prepare.” She placed her purse on the table, opened it, removed a folded piece of paper, and handed it to Belle. “Perhaps this will explain the larger picture,
un philosophie, peut-être
…” Her smile turned serious.
“Ma chère
, always remember that your father was a remarkable man.” She lifted her purse and draped the strap over her shoulder.
“Au revoir
. We shall meet again,
non?”
Then she strolled upstairs and out of sight.

Rosco turned to Belle. “Did she just wink at the bartender, or was that my imagination?”

“It wasn't your imagination.”

Belle lifted the piece of paper from the table, and unfolded it.

“What is it?” Rosco asked.

“Another puzzle …
Once the Game Is Over
…”

ONCE THE GAME IS OVER …

Across

1.  Despots

6.  Throughout, in music

12.  Boat in Bayonne

14.  Time immemorial

15.  Serve a soda; Midwest style

16.  Least strict

17.  Wardrobe

18.  Certain Middle Easterner

20.  End of quip, part 1

22.  Ms. Charisse

25.  Dry

26.  Latin one

27.  Pervasive quality

29.  Defeat

32.  22-Across, e.g.

34.  End of quip, part 2

38.  Crib item

39.  Gem state

40.  Yen

41.  Agcy. created in 1933

42.  Weather___

46.  “___Done Him Wrong”

47.  End of quip, part 3

50.  Strips

52.  Certain salt or ester

53.  Mysterious

56.  Evicts

58.  FBI datum

59.  Thrive

60.  Swaps

61.  Water___

Down

1.  More tense

2.  Judy Garland film

3.  Game maker

4.  Write once more

5.  ___Paulo

6.  Cheers!

7.  Old oath

8.  Some serapes

9.  “The Raven” author

10.  Literary monogram

11.  N.J. time

12.  Nobel winner of '54

13.  Quits, Southern style

15.  Butter portions

19.  Collection of information

21.  Craig:Peter—Stevens:___

23.  Word of disgust

24.  Eins und zwei

28.  Scottish alder tree

30.  Bud

31.  Female sheep

32.  AKA to the BBB

33.  Sigh of relief

34.  Cycle starter?

35.  Boater and beanie

36.  Engrave

37.  Harem rooms

41.  Common article

43.  Humbles

44.  Marker downer

45.  Former husbands and wives

47.  Lock

48.  Detest

49.  Bull___Party

51.  Pot sweetener

53.  Likely

54.  Monopoly purchase; abbr.

55.  Langley crew; abbr.

57.  Agcy. created in 1975

To download a PDF of this puzzle, please visit
openroadmedia.com/nero-blanc-crosswords

Turn the page to continue reading from the Crossword Mysteries

CHAPTER 1

“What if you had something to hide …? Or maybe you already hid it?” The speaker stood, hunched and frail beside the room's wide window, then lifted a veiny, blue hand to touch glass grown greasy from institutional cooking: glass that now reflected an early autumnal night, a fog-wet roadway, the diamond-bright lights of trucks and cars and minivans roaring past—roaring away. The hand stroked the window's surface, leaving a smeary mark on the cold pane.

The response to these questions drifted across a hospital-style bed, and came from a nurse's aide who huffed and puffed with exertion as she lifted the mattress and tucked in sheets. She was a large and cherub-faced woman, dressed in a lilac cotton smock and matching drawstring pants printed with teddy bears and balloons—a peculiar choice for a home for the elderly, but one intended to bring cheer into declining years. “You mean an object—like a purse or piece of jewelry or some such …? Or do you mean something hidden from yourself? Like an emotion?” The aide wheezed, stood up straight, and tugged at her print top. She was long accustomed to these verbal guessing games with her patient. “Or like a lie? Something like that, you mean?”

No reply came from the aged body at the window.

“Playing twenty questions tonight, are we?” The aide chortled and punched a bedraggled pillow into shape.

“Can't see anything from up here,” was the grumbled retort.

“Sure you can! You look down, you see the highway, the supermarket off at the right—”

“There's no people out there. No people at all.”

“You want people, you come downstairs and join the others in the recreation lounge … game hour … activities hour … TV … mealtimes … I keep telling you—”

“Just a lot of old folks drooling in their sleep.”

“Not when they're eating,” was the cheery comeback. “Besides, you're gonna go stir-crazy if you insist on staying up here for the rest of your born days.” She grabbed another pillow, turning her back on her charge, and so failed to notice the reaction to this reference to incarceration.