Murder in the Winter (14 page)

Our efforts revealed nothing. No one had broken into
McArthur’s apartment from the inside or the outside, although doing so would
not have taken much effort. Still, there were no scratches on the door or any
of the windows. The locks wouldn’t have deterred a real burglar, but then
Oppenheimer Arms wasn’t in the high rent district.

“Mr. McArthur, are you sure that you gave a key to no
one else. None of the other tenants. Not Mr. Longworth.”

“No one but Mrs. Crouch.”

I would check with Mrs. Crouch before I left, but I
didn’t expect she would’ve given McArthur’s key to anyone, or would admit to
entering his apartment without his knowledge.

We had nothing more to gain by continuing to question
McArthur. If something came up, we would return. I asked him if he planned to
leave town again soon, but he said not for another couple of weeks. I told him
to let me know before he left. He looked concerned. Afraid.

17

Lou and I walked out silently, and made our way to the
last apartment, number eight. I knocked, but no one answered. I knocked again.
Still, no one came to the door. I heard no noises from within. It was time to
return to Mrs. Crouch’s apartment to ask her a few more questions.

She opened the door.

“Back again, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Mrs. Crouch. This won’t take long. I just have a
few questions to ask you after talking to some of the tenants.”

She opened the door to let us in, again offered us coffee,
which we again declined.

“Mrs. Crouch, I just have a few questions about some
of your tenants. Let’s begin with Mr. Rothschild. Have you ever seen him walk?”

“Never.”

“What about when he gets his mail or goes somewhere?”

“Each time I’ve seen him get his mail, he’s in his
chair. He seldom goes anywhere, but on the few occasions that he has, I’ve seen
the painful look on his face as he struggles to put his chair in the back while
holding on to the door for support. He never gets out in bad weather, and he
has his groceries delivered. Some of us check with him from time to time, when
we’re going out, to see if he needs anything. Sometimes, one of the men or I
pick up something for him.”

“Let’s move on to Mr. Mulroney. He claims he was in
and out this weekend. Did you see him at any time over the weekend?”

“No, but I seldom pay any attention to noises. The
only noises I ever hear are when someone comes in the front door or gets his
mail. Few people use the front door, because our residents seldom have guests,
and all of our residents park out back. I seldom hear anyone walking down the
hall, or opening the door to his apartment.”

“Okay, now about Mr. Profitt. He said his sister
visited him last week. Did you by any chance meet her?”

“Yes, on Friday morning. Mr. Profitt knocked on my
door, introduced his sister, and asked me if I’d be willing to take pictures of
the two of them outdoors.”

“Why outdoors?”

“Well, Mr. Profitt’s sister seldom sees snow, and she
was so excited to see all this white stuff. I think if they’d been younger
she’d have talked her brother into making a snowman, but she told me that she’s
afraid to drive in it. I don’t like driving in the stuff, myself.”

“Do you have any idea how long Mr. Profitt’s sister
was here?”

“She got here sometime early last week, left early
this morning.”

“And how do you know that, if you only saw her the one
time?”

“She kept her car parked out front, on the street.
Every time I looked out to check and see if we had any more snow or any of it
had melted, the car was there. It’s possible they went somewhere in it, but if
so, they didn’t go much.”

“You’re so helpful, Mrs. Crouch. Let’s move on to Mr.
McArthur.”

“Nice man, Mr. McArthur. He’s our youngest tenant.”

“Do you by any chance have a key to his apartment?”

“I have a key to every apartment.”

“Why’s that, Mrs. Crouch?”

“In case any of the gentlemen accidentally lock their
keys in the apartment, or in their automobile. Or, as in the case this past
week when a workman needed to get into an apartment for some repairs and the
tenant wasn’t at home.”

“And whose apartment was that, Mrs. Crouch?”

“Mr. McArthur’s. A plumber stopped by, said that Mr.
McArthur called and said a faucet was leaking. It’s strange that Mr. McArthur
didn’t let me know the plumber was coming, because our tenants usually do if
they’re not going to be home, just to make sure I’ll be home to let them in.”

“Did you recognize the plumber?”

“No, but he had his credentials, and he works for the
company we usually use.”

“And what company is that?”

“Burris Plumbing.”

“And what day was he here?”

“I believe it was Thursday. Yeah, it was, because he
said he felt we’d get more snow than those few flurries that had been predicted.
Maybe he should become a weather forecaster and let the weather forecaster
learn how to be a plumber.”

I’d check with McArthur before I left to see if he
called the plumber, then check with Burris Plumbing to see if they sent anyone
out. If someone did come out, was the guy really a plumber, an actor in
disguise, or someone else?

“Mrs. Crouch, I have one more tenant I want to ask you
about, then I’ll be through. Do you have any idea where the man in apartment
eight is?”

“Bob Gravitt should be in his apartment. His car’s
here. I noticed this morning that it hasn’t been moved since before the
snowstorm. Maybe you didn’t knock very loud.”

“I knocked a couple of times, Mrs. Crouch, and I
knocked loud enough for anyone inside to hear me.”

“Well, maybe he was in the shower.”

“Now, that’s a possibility. Just in case, I’d like for
you to let me have his key. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Promise you’ll knock again before you go in. I don’t
want him to get mad at me.”

“I promise, Mrs. Crouch. And if he doesn’t answer,
I’ll even call out after I open the door, before I go in.”

She got the key for me. I promised to return it as
soon as we were through with it. After finding out what make of car Bob Gravitt
drove, as well as the rest of the tenants, Lou and I stood, thanked her, and
walked out. I motioned for Lou to walk to the back door with me. I wanted to
check out the cars behind the building.

+++

Lou and I stood on the back porch, studying the parked
cars. Only three of the cars hadn’t been moved since before the snowstorm. I
consulted my list and learned that those three cars belonged to Arthur
Rothschild, the man in the wheelchair; Virgil Profitt, the man whose sister had
visited; and Bob Gravitt, the man who hadn’t answered his door. Was Gravitt in
the shower, did he have something to hide, or was he incapable of answering the
door? We would soon find out.

Before going to Gravitt’s door, I knocked again at McArthur's
apartment, eager to see if he’d called a plumber, and if so, why he didn’t tell
me about it. It turned out McArthur knew nothing about a plumber, or said he
didn’t. Could it be that McArthur called the plumber in case the boots were
found in his apartment? That way he could blame someone else. Did someone else
call the plumber? Or was there a plumber? I planned to at least answer the last
question as soon as we left Oppenheimer Arms.

+++

I walked to the adjacent apartment, knocked again at
the door to number eight. Still, no response.  I knocked again, then tried the
key. I opened the door and was about to call out when I realized that there was
no reason to call out.  I whispered to Lou to guard the door, to see that no
curiosity seekers forced their way inside, and then I went in, looking for the
body.

I found Bob Gravitt lying on the floor, a chair and
desk nearby. On the desk I saw several items that could alter the way a person
looked. Evidently, Gravitt planned a weekend at Overlook Inn, but died before
he could carry out his plans.

I walked over to the phone, held the receiver with my
handkerchief, and dialed Frank Harris’s direct number.

“Frank, Cy here. I’ve got another one.”

“Are you back at that inn looking for bodies?”

“No, Frank. But I have good news and bad news. The
good news is this body is closer to you. The bad news is my guess is that this
guy was killed the same way as the others, and at the same time. He’s been here
a while, Frank.”

I gave Frank the address and asked that he bring a fingerprint
crew with him. While we were at it, we would go over the apartments of the
other deceased tenants. I wondered how Mrs. Crouch would take having three
vacancies in the building.

+++

While we waited on Frank and the fingerprint team, I
locked the apartment and the two of us went back to see Mrs. Crouch and asked
for two more keys. As we waited, we took a candy break. I had eaten and savored
three almonds and who knows how many fat grams of chocolate before Frank
arrived. Lou managed to devour most of a package of M&Ms and refrained from
kicking the two he dropped. I had spotted a broom on the front porch, and swept
Lou’s M&Ms out into the snow, where they would stand out until the first
candy-eating-animal devoured them. When Frank pulled up behind Lightning, I
carefully rewrapped my Hershey Almond bar and got ready to go back to work.

18

While Frank checked out Bob Gravitt’s body, I sent the
print crew to check for prints in apartments four and five. As expected, they
came up empty. Both apartments contained only one set of clear prints and few
smudged ones. As they left one apartment, Lou and I cased the joint, hoping to
find something that would solve the case for us. We found no notes left by a
murderer with a guilty conscience. Nothing in either apartment seemed like a
clue. We were coming out of Plankton’s apartment when we saw Frank. He was
about to whisk the body away to the morgue.

“Cy, I’d appreciate it if you call me a little sooner
next time.”

“I knew how busy you were Frank, and I wanted you to
pace yourself. I also wanted to keep this one as an ace in the hole, just in
case someone messed up and said something about playing cards with Gravitt over
the weekend.”

We waited for Frank to remove the body, then stepped inside
the apartment while holding handkerchiefs over our mouths and noses. The place
was a few plug-in air fresheners short of a baby’s nursery. It was the kind of
place I wanted to walk into when I had a bad cold. Lou and I unlocked and
opened a couple of windows to air the place out, then did a quick search of the
premises.  We had no plan to check out the place inch by inch. If Gravitt had
sewn his fortune into his mattress, I would stay a poor man. The smell was
almost enough to make a man lose his appetite. Almost, but not quite.

+++

It was after six before we got through at Oppenheimer
Arms. Too late to stop by Burris Plumbing. That chore would have to wait until
the next day. I planned to stop by early, just in case they did send a plumber
to McArthur’s apartment. If so, I wanted to talk to the guy and find out how he
fit into our case, if at all.

Just as we were getting ready to leave the building,
we ran into Profitt.

“Hey, Lieutenant! I just printed the pictures my sister
took when she was here. Want to see them?”

I did want to see them and was glad he offered to show
them to me. I was particularly interested in the pictures he took that showed
which cars were at the apartment building on Friday morning. His sister took
some nice pictures, as did Mrs. Crouch, and something told me they might help
us solve the case. I thought even more so when I remembered the message God had
given Lou that morning.

“Mr. Profitt, would you mind if I borrowed these four
pictures? I won’t let anything happen to them, and I’ll return them ASAP.” I
imagine Profitt wondered why I was interested in pictures his sister had taken,
but he agreed to let me have them. When we had time, I wanted the two of us to
study them, maybe even get them blown up and see if any of them might tell us
something we didn’t already know.

+++

Lou and I had a couple of errands to run, which had
nothing to do with the case.  When we finished, we were off again to the Blue
Moon. Even a couple of men looking for a murderer had to eat.

While I drove, Lou and I discussed the case.

“So, what do you think, Lou?”

“About today?’

“About anything.”

“I was just thinking about the people we met today.
None of them came across as the murderer. Even Mulroney, who lied to us. In a
way, Longworth seems like the most likely suspect, but I don’t see why he’d
have done it, with the guys dying at the inn.”

“Supposedly, Longworth didn’t know anyone was coming
to the inn. If he did it, he probably thought that each of the three guys would
die in his apartment and might not be discovered for days.”

“One of them wasn’t.”

“Don’t remind me, Lou.”

“At this moment, my frontrunner would have to be the
guy we haven’t met yet, the plumber. At least we know he was in one of the
apartments. The one with the boots.”

“Well, we should know more about him in the morning.”

“So, what’re you thinking, Cy?”

“I’m thinking anybody could’ve done these guys in, but
nobody could have left me the note.”

“What you mean by that?”

“I mean snow. Anybody could’ve walked in this place
Wednesday and waxed these guys, but nobody could’ve left the note at my place
because of the snow.”

“The snow wasn’t that deep.”

‘It has nothing to do with deep. It has to do with footprints.”

“But whoever it was left footprints.”

“You’ve got me all mixed up. I don’t mean footprints.
I mean tire tracks. Remember how nothing had messed up the snow when we got to
the inn on Friday. Half our suspects were at the inn.  Now, let’s look at the
others. Rothschild can’t walk, but that doesn’t matter. His car hasn’t been moved
since the snowstorm. Neither has Profitt’s. And McArthur was out of town. Who’s
left, Lou?”

“Remember, Cy, that inn has tunnels underneath. What
if one of those tunnels leads out to the bridge. Our murderer walks across the
bridge to some place where he’s stashed a car. As for the those guys who were
here, Profitt could’ve taken his sister’s car. McArthur could’ve sneaked back
into town earlier than he told us. And Rothschild could’ve called a taxi. And
then, who’s this plumber guy? Where does he fit in?”

“I don’t buy the tunnel to the bridge. I think all
those guys were tucked in for the night, unless maybe everybody thought someone
was there, but he really wasn’t. Sort of like when Mulroney checks in the
second time, but sneaks out on us. Come to think of it, we didn’t see anybody
except Longworth and his wife until well after we checked in. It could be that
an employee or a guest left the inn before the snow hit and returned after we
checked in. Then, they could’ve gotten out and back in without making tracks.
All I know is we can’t check now. There have been so many cars in and out of
that driveway that we won’t be able to tell one tire track from another. As for
the rest of our suspects, I don’t know about the plumber, but I doubt if
Rothschild called a taxi. Too easy to trace, although I’ll check it out
tomorrow. And McArthur has an alibi. As for Profitt, what’s his motive? He
doesn’t even know any of these people.”

“Or so he says.”

“There has to be something we haven’t thought of.
Maybe even something obvious.”

Lou and I discussed the case all the way to the Blue
Moon. As we arrived, we decided that things might fit together better if we
thought about them on a full stomach.

+++

We ate and I dropped Lou off at his place. Both of us
needed to unwind before another busy day on the case. I had no idea what the
next day held for us, but I planned to take off my thinking cap and enjoy the
evening, or at least part of it. I planned to go to bed earlier than normal. 

Most of the time, I vary my entertainment, but I was
on a Lucy kick. I finally owned every DVD episode of
I Love Lucy
and
planned to pick up where I’d left off with the first year’s shows. I just hoped
that nothing I watched that evening had Lucy donning a disguise. I’d had enough
disguises to last me a while.

I was almost upon my driveway before I noticed another
one of Overlook Inn’s guests had checked out. It was too late. She’d spotted
me. The busy day I’d experienced allowed me to forget about her. I could forget
no longer. My gloom had changed to doom. I had trouble getting my seat belt
off. My neighbor charged up my driveway and was standing by my car door before
I could open it. Not nearly close enough for a whack and an “oops,” but way too
close to suit me. That yippy mutt of hers stood next to her, just far enough
away to avoid a swift kick. Evidently the mutt had overcome its fear of snow.

“Well, Miss Humphert. I’m sorry you had to cut short
your vacation at the inn.”

“Oh, Cyrus, it was so depressing. Knowing that you
were so close, and yet too busy to visit me in my room.”

“Oh, but I did visit you, Miss Humphert. Remember when
I offered to hang your dog out the window?”

“Cyrus, you know you adore Twinkle Toes.”

“Almost as much as poison ivy. So what can I do for
you? I still have work to do.”

“Oh, Cyrus. You don’t know how it warms my heart to
know you still care, even when you’re in the middle of your little police
work.”

“Miss Humphert, I can’t begin to tell you what it does
to me, but you’ll have to excuse me. We have criminals to catch, you know.”

“Just in case you don’t catch any, you can always
bring your handcuffs over to my place.”

“Okay, as long as you promise to try on the
straitjacket first.”

I turned away before she could touch me. I hurried toward
my house, hoping that my neighbor would fall down on the ice, but not until she
got back on her own property. I knew better than to wish ill on my neighbor. I
knew it better after taking the tumble I wished upon her. Before I could get
up, she hovered over me. Even worse, that varmint of hers licked me on the
nose. I wanted to wish more bad things on
that
woman, but I knew God
didn’t want me to. I considered becoming a Catholic. My Catholic friends,
sinned, went to confession, then sinned some more. I wondered if they still
spoke Latin. I would have to ask one of them. English was hard enough. I
certainly didn’t want to learn a language that no one spoke outside of a church
service, but then I heard that Catholics speak English now. I’d have to ask
someone.

I grasped hold of something, lifted myself to my feet,
and gingerly walked into the house. I went to the bathroom to wash the doggy licks
off my nose before an infection set in. Boy, did I need an episode of
I Love
Lucy
. Fifteen minutes later, I’d forgotten all about a murderer, and all
about a neighbor with a dog. Sometimes it’s good to have amnesia.