Murder in the Winter (10 page)

I hung up just as Mrs. Mitchuson knocked. I asked her
the same questions I asked her husband, plus asked if she saw anything unusual
in any of the rooms as she cleaned them. Her answers matched her husband’s and
she saw nothing out of the way.

+++

With nothing going the way I wanted, I needed a break.
It was almost lunch time. Lou and I decided to wait in the sitting room until
lunch was served. In the meantime, we would pray that the food would be
acceptable. I didn’t have time to run in to the Blue Moon to eat, and they
don’t deliver. Well, maybe they would to their two best customers.

Lou and I sat and ate an uneventful lunch with Tony
McArthur. At least he hadn’t disappeared. He looked much less at ease than he
did the night before. Could he have something to hide? Or is it merely that he
became unnerved when he learned that a murder had been committed?

+++

As we finished lunch, Longworth informed me that I had
a phone call. I told him I would take it in the conference room. The call was
from Sam.

“Boy, you’re really quick this time Sam. Maybe I
should bother you more often on the weekend.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. I don’t have much to report.”

“Then why’d you call me?”

“I’ve got this much, Cy. You might be at a dead end.
None of those out-of-town people exist. Oh, I don’t doubt that they’re real
people, Cy. It’s just that there’s no one matching those names who live in any
of those towns. Well, except for McArthur. He lives here in Hilldale, all
right.”

“When I found out all those people were wearing disguises,
I suspected as much. I think the real people are a little closer to home, like
McArthur. I assume you don’t have anything yet on those who work here.”

“Not yet, Cy. You want me to wait until I get everything?”

“You might as well. Thanks, Sam. I’ll talk to you later.”

I hung up, made another call. I wanted to get a fingerprint
crew out here to check Claude Williams’s room for prints. Why did a man check
in, then leave soon thereafter? Had I scared him? I’d told Longworth that all
rooms once occupied by the newly deceased and the recently departed were off
limits to anyone, including him, until further notice. He wasn’t pleased, but
it wasn’t like he had no vacancies in case a busload of elderly travelers
descended upon the inn after leaving Cracker Barrel on their way to some
gambling haven.

11

While we waited on the fingerprint crew I talked to
McArthur again. I sent the good sergeant to retrieve him.

“Well, Mr. McArthur. So good to see you again. I suppose
you liked your lunch.”

“Not bad. I understand dinner will be even better.
We’re having Coquille St. Jacques, and tomorrow night they’re serving
chateaubriand.”

Not being a wine drinker, I hoped we were through with
this place before tomorrow night. I wondered if chateaubriand was a cheap or
expensive wine. It sounded like a red wine, but I hoped that I wouldn’t be
there to find out. I planned to ask Betty McElroy when we returned to
civilization. In the meantime, I would get the good sergeant to find out what Coquille
St. Jacques is. It sounds like Dachshund On a Stick marinated in a white wine
sauce.

“Lieutenant, I assume you invited me here for some
reason other than to ask me about the food. Otherwise, you could have asked me
at the table. After all, we were the only ones there.”

“Sorry, Mr. McArthur, your mention of the menu made me
think of something. You mentioned in our previous conversation that you came
because you thought Mr. Longworth would soon be having tryouts for a play.”

“We actors think of them as auditions, and yes, I
heard that he would soon be scheduling plays. I contacted a former actor just
before I left town and asked him if he would be willing to get the word out. I
even suggested that it would be fun if some of the guests came in character, in
order to perform for Longworth and see if he’d recognize them. That’s the
reason I couldn’t be sure if I knew anyone else at the table last night.”

“Who’s the actor you contacted?”

“Arthur Rothschild. He was one of the finest actors in
this area until his accident.”

“Accident?”

“Yes, he fell and broke his leg during a production.
There aren’t many parts for actors confined to wheelchairs, so Arthur has
pretty much retired.”

“Confined to a wheelchair? Most people I know who
break a leg recover.”

“Yeah, but Arthur had some complications. He couldn’t
get to a doctor to get it set right. Because of that, he has an unbearable pain
anytime he puts any pressure on it.”

“Did you talk to him later to see if he passed the
word on?”

“I didn’t have time. I was busy the whole time I was
in Chicago, and I stopped by my apartment only long enough to get my car. I
didn’t even go in, just jumped out of the taxi and hurried around back to get
my vehicle. I wanted to make sure I got here in time for dinner. Anyway, if you
want to know, just check with Arthur. He lives in the actors’ home, just like
the rest of us.”

“The rest of us?”

“Yeah, Oppenheimer Arms. Joseph Oppenheimer was a
philanthropist who died a few years ago. He outlived his descendants, and he
had always loved the theater, so he gave money to Longworth to reopen the inn
and bought a large home which was converted into a apartment building for local
actors. If someone cannot afford to pay, they live there rent free. I can
afford to pay, but some of the guys who haven’t found much work of late cannot
afford to do so.”

“And what is the address of this home?”

“462 Linden Place.”

“Tell me, Mr. McArthur. How well do the actors in this
area get along?”

“For the most part pretty well. Of course, some people
get a little upset when someone else gets a part that he or she coveted, but it
doesn’t usually last long. Everyone is back to being friends pretty quick.”

“And how many actors live at Oppenheimer Arms?”

“Let’s see, there are seven. There are eight
apartments, four on each side of the hall, and I believe that everyone lives
alone. Then, we have a manager, Mrs. Crouch, who takes care of the place. Mr.
Oppenheimer made Longworth promise that if an actor ever needed a place to stay
and there wasn’t a vacancy at Oppenheimer Arms, he or she could stay at the inn
until an apartment was available.”

I dismissed McArthur and sent Lou to retrieve Longworth.

+++

“Mr. Longworth, it seems that you’ve been keeping something
from me.”

“Such as?”

“Such as how you acquired this magnificent inn. It
seems Mr. Oppenheimer was most gracious.”

“That he was. Mr. Oppenheimer was a fine gentleman.”

“And why didn’t you tell me about his generosity
sooner?”

“It had no bearing on anything that has happened here
this weekend.”

“Oh! Maybe it did. And it seems you were a little more
eager to produce and direct your next play than you led me to believe.”

“Not at all, but it will be some time before that happens.”

“Is that because of Mr. Mycroft’s death?”

“Partially.”

“And Mr. Plankton’s death?”

“I did not know Mr. Plankton.”

“Could it be that you know Mr. Plankton by another
name?”

“The gentleman did not look familiar to me.”

“Could it be that he was an actor in disguise?”

“You mean someone playing a character? Sure. But I
didn’t recognize him.”

“Are you aware that someone relayed a message to local
actors to come to the inn this weekend, and come in costume to audition for
you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Quite serious.”

“Then, no, I didn’t know that. Is that how Tony McArthur
came to be here this weekend?”

“So, you know McArthur to be an actor?”

“Oh, yes. I thought I’d told you that. He’s a distinguished
actor, one of the better ones in this area. But he was not in costume.”

“No, I guess not. Well, thank you for you time, Mr.
Longworth. I’ll not keep you from your duties any longer.”

“I appreciate that, Lieutenant.”

Longworth left. It was beginning to look like the murders
had something to do with Longworth and the possibility of upcoming plays at the
inn. But I still had no idea who our murderer was.

+++

All that detecting made Lou and me hungry. I took a Hershey
Almond bar from my pocket and laid it on the table. Needing to lighten the
moment, I removed a handkerchief from my pocket, took the tooth-marked candy
bar from its wrapper, and laid it on the handkerchief. I’d mangled the candy
enough so that only about one-half of it remained. Trying to be cute, I took a
bite off the still intact bottom portion of the candy, eliminating its right
angles.  Lou proved two can be twice as cute as one. Lou saw no need for a
napkin. He poured his package of M&Ms on the table. Then he sorted them,
making lines and rows. He looked at me and smiled, then moved one row of
M&Ms at a time, like he was trying to solve a Rubik Cube. I reached over
and plucked an M&M from the center of his square. He smacked my hand. I
picked up an M&M, licked it, and replaced it. He picked up the one I
licked, put it in his mouth, and then clutched his hand to his throat as if he
were poisoned. While he was gyrating, I chose a red M&M from his pile. I
placed it in front of me, then flicked it toward the others like I did when I
played marbles as a boy. Lou laughed, and selected a yellow M&M as his
agate. He scattered a few, and ate the ones he’d scattered. After a few minutes
play, Lou knocked the last M&M from the ring, and opened a new bag. Who
knows how long our shenanigans would’ve lasted if there hadn’t been a knock at
the door. Lou hurried to gather his M&Ms and poured them back into the bag,
while I opened the door slightly. It seemed the lab boys had arrived. Play time
was over. Maybe sometime soon I would lick all the chocolate from my candy, and
we could play marbles with my almonds. Somehow, I envisioned M&Ms being
better shooters.

+++

Lou and I accompanied the lab boys to the rooms we wanted
dusted. I jotted down the numbers of the rooms, gave them the pass key I had
yet to return, and told them to knock on the door to my room when they’d
finished. All that exercise had made me tired. I needed a nap. I promised Lou
I’d knock on his door when we had more to work with.

+++

I tried my best to comb my hair quickly after the lab
boys knocked on my door. Their smiles told me I was not successful.  That was
okay.  Those guys needed more opportunities to smile. I considered showing them
our M&M game before they left, then decided against it.

Gordon, a fellow I’d known for quite a few years,
spoke.

“Lieutenant, we matched these prints against ones we already
have. We found duplicates in two of the rooms.”

“And which rooms were those?”

He told me the room numbers, and I checked them
against my list. The rooms where there were duplicates were Mrs. Dukenfield’s
and Mr. Williams’s rooms.

“Are you sure these are the same prints in each of
these rooms? These two guests were not at the inn at the same time.”

“I’m certain of it, Lieutenant. See how the swirls are
an exact match.”

“That sure is interesting.”

“Let me make it a little more interesting for you, Lieutenant.
Other than an occasional print left by the maid, we found only one set of
prints in each room.”

I looked up, saw Lou striding toward us.

“Come here, Lou. I’ve got a question. Try to think
back. When we ate dinner Friday night, was Mrs. Dukenfield wearing gloves?”

“No, Cy. Remember how we talked about playing a game
of connecting the age spots.”

I wished Lou had been a little more discreet around
the lab boys. I smiled sheepishly. I saw they smiled for a second time.
Probably a record for them. I thought, then asked Gordon a question.

“Are you saying that only one person was in each
room?”

“Not necessarily. But a person would have to have been
wearing gloves or been extremely careful not to leave any prints. As you know,
it’s hard not to leave prints.”

“What about the doorknob on the inside of the room
doors? Was there only one set on them?”

“Those prints were inconclusive. All we have are
smudged prints. No way to identify them.”

I thanked them for their thoroughness, and told them I
hoped I wouldn’t need them again. After they left, I mulled over what I’d
learned. Was it possible that Isabel Dukenfield and Claude Williams were the
same person? Manfred did say their trucks were similar, and both of them weren’t
around at the same time. I decided to run this by Longworth to see what he
thought. I found him at the front desk.

“More questions, Lieutenant?”

“Just one, Mr. Longworth, and this won’t take long. I
just want your expert opinion about something.”

He raised his eyebrows, probably wondering whether I
was buttering him up or setting him up.

“Mr. Longworth, you’ve been involved with a lot of
plays with a lot of actors. Am I right?”

“That I have, Lieutenant.”

“In all your experience, have you ever known a man to
play a woman, or a woman to play a man?”

“You mean as a farce, or in a serious role?”

“In a serious role. Would a man play a woman, or a
woman play a man?”

“It’s rare, but we’ve had cases where that has happened,
only most of the time it was played for laughs.”

“But it could be done?”

“Sure, Lieutenant, if the actor or actress was gifted
enough to pull it off. May I know why you ask?”

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Our fingerprint
crew just left. They said they found a matching set of prints in Mrs.
Dukenfield’s and Mr. Williams’s rooms.”

“Well, the maid was in both rooms. Maybe they were her
prints.”

“No, we allowed for her prints, and there was only one
set of fingerprints other than hers in both rooms. It’s rare that a person can
stay in a room and not leave any prints. Even if Mr. Williams was here for only
a short while.”

“A short while. Has he left?”

“He was seen leaving while you and I were having a
previous conversation. I don’t know if he checked out, or not. Whoever was on
the desk could probably tell us.”

Longworth scanned the register.

“There’s nothing here that says he checked out. I’ll
look into it.”

+++

Lou and I turned away and went to my room to think it
over. My room was more comfortable than the conference room. I took the bed.
The sergeant took the couch. I tossed him a pillow. He tossed it back. The
couch cushions were good enough for him.

Of course, Isabel Dukenfield and Claude Williams
looked nothing alike. That goes without saying. One a woman. One a man. Even in
the face, there was no resemblance. From what I could remember, even their eyes
were different colors. But with tinted contact lenses and all that makeup men
are able to do these days, I didn’t discount the fact that they could’ve been
the same person. The woman did seem shorter, but was that merely our minds
playing tricks on us, because everyone knows that women are usually shorter
than men. Both seemed to have the same build. Of course, men and women are
shaped differently, but with Mrs. Dukenfield’s bulky wool suit, it was hard for
me to know what kind of shape she had. Did he or she wear this outfit for that
reason? If the two were played by one person, could it be that the reason that
the Mrs. Dukenfield character left was to change costumes?