Murder in the Winter (15 page)

19

When I went to bed Monday night, I set the alarm. I
don’t usually do that, and most of the time I wake up at a reasonable hour, but
we had so many things to do Tuesday morning. I wasn’t sure what time Sam got
up, so when I opened my blurry eyes for the first time on Tuesday morning I
stumbled to the shower to wake up. It worked. By the time I stepped out, got
dressed, and spent my time with God, I felt that Sam would be up.

“I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you, Cy.”

“Yeah, sorry to say, but the murderer hasn’t confessed
yet.”

“Well, I don’t have any confessions for you, Cy, but I
do have a couple of people with motives.”

“Shoot.”

“Well, I checked out all the people at the inn. The
Mitchusons seem so squeaky clean that I might name my children after them.”

“Your children are grown, Sam.”

“Okay, grandchildren. Also, as far as I can tell, Mrs.
Longworth didn’t know any of the deceased. Neither did Michael, the sous chef.”
The name sous chef brought back unpleasant memories. “However, I did find out a
couple of juicy tidbits. Guess who took out an insurance policy on Carter
Thornton?”

“The long lost Mrs. Thornton who is currently sunning
herself somewhere on the Riviera.”

“Try Sidney Longworth.”

“Longworth? Were they related?”

“No, but if it turns out that Longworth isn’t the murderer,
then he’ll have another million dollars to play with.”

“Or if he doesn’t get caught. Very interesting.”

“Wait a minute, Cy. I don’t want you to put all your motives
in one basket. I have a nice little story to tell you. Shortly before the
Overlook Inn shut down last time, one of the actors got drunk, totaled his car,
and went off to meet our Maker. His name was Richard Le Blanc. His brother is
Antoine Le Blanc, otherwise known as the chef at the Overlook Inn. It turns out
that Richard got drunk when another actor got a part he felt he should have
landed, and on his way home, his car slid off the road and hit a tree head-on.
At the funeral, many people heard Antoine threaten the life of the guy who
landed the part, Carter Thornton.”

“Does Longworth know that Richard was Antoine’s brother?”

“That I can’t tell you.”

“Anything else you have for me?”

“Yes, both Longworth and Le Blanc were in town on
Wednesday afternoon. They weren’t together, but they were in town, not at the
inn.”

“It keeps getting curiouser and curiouser.”

“I’ll see what else I can find out, Cy. It took me
until late last night to learn this much. Now, I imagine you have more for me.”

“Yes, we found another body last night, so at least we
can cross one actor off our suspect list, but there are some more I want you to
check on. Get ready to write.”

“I’m always ready to write. Go ahead.”

“First, check on a guy by the name of Arthur Rothschild.
He  was  one  of  the  actors when the inn was open before, and he’s still in
town. I think it was in ’97 when he fell off the stage  at  the  inn  and 
broke  his  leg. It never healed properly. Check and see what you can find out
about his condition, and try to locate any doctor who might have treated him. I
want to know whether or not he can walk. Next, there’s another actor, Tony
McArthur. Supposedly he was out of town when these murders took place. Chicago.
He gave me the name of a guy who can verify this. Tom Smithers. His number is
312-555-0478. McArthur told me that he was up there to try out for a play that
will open in a few months at the Red Barn Dinner Theater. Supposedly, it’s a
well known place. Also, check and see if McArthur was registered at the any of
the hotels off I-290 or -294. He claims to have been there on Wednesday and
Thursday nights. Also, check out Martin Mulroney, another actor. He was a guest
at the inn last weekend, disguised as two different characters over the course
of the weekend. He’s already lied to me. See if he’s clean, or not. While
you’re at it, check out a guy named Virgil Profitt. He’s new to the area,
claims he doesn’t really know any of these people. Also, see if you can find
out anything juicy about the manager of Oppenheimer Arms, Lena Crouch. When you
finish that, you might as well see what you can find out about the three
victims; Carter Thornton, Matthew Simon, and Bob Gravitt. Maybe we can find
something to connect them to one of our suspects, something that we don’t already
know. For starters, see if any of them had a will, and if Simon or Gravitt had
insurance policies, and if so, who will benefit from their deaths.”

“Let’s see, Cy. We’re just past the middle of January.
How about getting back to me about mid-April?”

“You mean you won’t have all this by noon?”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll probably have to give it
to you in bits and pieces. I might have some of the easier stuff by tomorrow,
but don’t expect a thorough report.”

“That’s fine. And if you find out any other juicy
stuff about Longworth or Antoine Le Blanc, let me know.”

“I assume you’ll be waiting at home until I get back
to you.”

“I wish.”

“See you later, Cy. It looks like I’ve got a lot of
work to do.”

“Me, too,” I muttered to myself after I hung up the
phone. It was almost 8:00 by the time I got off the phone with Sam. I made a
quick call to Lou to let him know I was on my way. I could tell he was
surprised I was ready to leave so early.

+++

I looked up the address for Burris Plumbing. I recognized
the street. Lou and I would stop by there before chowing down at the Blue Moon.
If it turned out this guy worked for Burris Plumbing, I wanted to talk to him
before he left to make calls.

It was 8:27 when we pulled up in front of a white concrete
building on Jackson Street. The aged sign said Burris Plumbing. There was a
cargo van out front that echoed that statement. I opened the door and eyeballed
a woman behind a desk, a woman who looked like she didn’t have many more years
before retirement. I asked to speak to someone in charge.

“I’m Mrs. Burris, how may I help you?”

I flashed my credentials and opened my mouth.

“We’re wondering if anyone from Burris Plumbing made a
call at an apartment at Oppenheimer Arms, 462 Linden Place, on Thursday. The
customer’s name would be Tony McArthur. The apartment number seven.”

“It sounds familiar. Let me check.”

She wheeled her chair around, and hit some keys and
made some clicks on her computer. The computer seemed to be the only thing in
the office purchased within the last thirty years, and seemed about as out of
place as if it had been in my house. In just a few seconds she confirmed that
their firm made a call to that address on Thursday.

“Would it be possible to talk to the man who made the
call?”

“I’m afraid that would be impossible. Even if he was
still with us, he would be out on calls by now. Most of our men are out of here
by 8:15.”

The words “even if he was still with us” stuck in my
throat.

“You mean he’s no longer with your outfit? It was just
last Thursday when he made the call.”

“It was an unusual situation. One of our men broke his
arm and was out of commission for a few weeks. About a month ago, a man named
Ray Phelps stopped in and asked if we could use a man temporarily. He said he
would be in town for a few weeks and needed some work. My husband took him out
on some calls one day to see if he knew anything about plumbing. My husband
returned and said he was as good as anyone we had, and offered him the job
until Thomas came back. It worked out well for everyone involved. Thomas received
his okay to return to work last week, and Ray Phelps left town over the
weekend.”

“Do you have an address for Phelps?”

“No, Lieutenant, I’m sorry. We don’t.”

“What about a driver’s license and social security number?”

“That I can give you, but I don’t think the address on
the driver’s license will be the one he went back to. He talked as if he came
into some money last week, and talked about taking some time off to do some
traveling.”

I took the information. I planned to run it anyway. I
thought we might get lucky.

“I don’t know if this is important or not, Lieutennt, but
I remember something Ray said when he checked in that night. He said, ‘There
weren’t nothing wrong with that faucet. I turned it off and on several times
and it never leaked.’”

I wondered if Ray Phelps made that statement to cover
his back, or if someone had lured him to the apartment. Or could it be that
Phelps was someone else in disguise. I still couldn’t see how his being there
could’ve benefited anyone. Maybe it would become clear in time.

“Mrs. Burris, would you happen to have a picture of
Ray Phelps?”

“No, Lieutenant, I’m sorry.”

My stomach growled, letting me know I had no more questions
for Mrs. Burris. If I did, I knew where she was.

+++

As we got back into the car, I remembered to ask Lou
what clue God had given him for that day.

“Tracks and more tracks.”

I had no idea what it meant, but I hoped it meant we
would soon be on the right track. I shuddered as I wondered if it meant that
someone would be making tracks back to my house. Or if tracks might lead us to
another body. We had enough bodies. And too many suspects. Who would’ve thought
that the more bodies that turned up, the more names we added to our suspect
list? Would we continue to add names?

Lou and I had a scrumptious breakfast at the Blue
Moon, then drove out to Overlook Inn to see what Longworth and Le Blanc had to
say. On the drive out, we discussed the case.

“Lou, last night we focused on opportunity. Let’s say
we take a look at some people’s motives.”

“Shoot, Cy.”

“Well, we now know that Longworth and Le Blanc had
motives to kill at least Carter Thornton. Maybe the others, too. Who else ranks
high on our suspect list?”

“Well, there’s Arthur Rothschild. He may still be
angry about his fall, and jealous some of the other actors would be going back
to work with Longworth. If he could walk, I’d rank him right up there close to
the others. Of course, he may be able to walk. We don’t know yet. Plus, whoever
came to your place   came   in Tony McArthur’s boots.   Maybe McArthur didn’t
go to Chicago, or came back earlier than everyone thinks. Martin Mulroney might
be a jealous actor, too. Less competition might mean more parts for him. Only
Virgil Profitt and Lena Crouch seem to be without a motive, but many times the
least likely suspect’s the one who did it. And of course, we have no idea if
the plumber fits into this thing. Could he be someone we know, or someone we
don’t know who happens to know enough about plumbing to get a job and fake a
service call? Could he, or someone else, have been planning this thing for a
long time? Did anyone other than Longworth know that the Overlook Inn Theater
would be operating again? Or did he really plan to open it again? Could it be
that reopening the theater was all a ruse in order for Longworth to murder Thornton
and make it look like someone else had it in for Longworth or Thornton? And
could it be that the other murders were committed simply to muddy the waters
and make our jobs more difficult?”

“Good questions, Lou. Too bad we don’t have any good
answers to go along with them.”

20

We drove the rest of the way to the inn in silence,
both of us thinking, wondering if there was something we had forgotten.

There was no new snow and no ice on the roads, so
other than driving on a road that would’ve made a good test track the drive to
the inn was uneventful.

I drove over the bridge in record time and navigated
the circular driveway to the front of the inn. We got out and climbed the front
steps. I opened the front door to the inn and, after wandering around for a few
minutes, located Longworth. I could tell he was surprised to see us and not
very happy about our reunion.

“Why, hello, Lieutenant. I didn’t expect to see you
again so soon.”

“I seem to have that effect on people.”

“We don’t have any guests today, so I’m sorry I can’t
offer you anything to eat.”

“I guess I should’ve called ahead.”

“Wait a minute, I’ll see if we have any food left.”

“No, that’s okay. We just ate.”

“Too bad. We had pancakes with strawberries and
whipped cream today.”

“Well, if it’s not any trouble, you can check. Maybe
we can eat and talk at the same time.” The word “talk” seemed to startle him.

Longworth wandered away, probably to have a conference
with his wife to see if either of them could figure out why we’d returned. He
came back a few minutes later with two plates loaded with pancakes, topped with
strawberries and whipped cream. Mrs. Longworth carried two kinds of syrup, and
Justin carried a pitcher of orange juice, which he sat down, then went back to
the kitchen and returned with two glasses.

I wanted to make Longworth sweat. Only the three of us
sat at the table. Lou and I took a few bites of pancakes before I opened my
mouth to talk. I started off easy on him to make him comfortable and
overconfident, then sprang my trap. I pulled the picture of Virgil Profitt and
his sister from my pocket, handed it to Longworth. I didn’t expect this to
unnerve him.

“Do you recognize either of those people, Mr. Longworth?”

He took his time, looked it over before answering.
“No, should I?”

“One of them’s an actor.”

“Not anyone I ever worked with.”

“Speaking of acting, have you ever acted, Mr. Longworth?”

“On occasion.”

“Give me a for instance.”

“Like if I wanted a break from directing, or it became
necessary.”

“You mean if an actor gets murdered just before the
curtain goes up.”

Longworth seemed unnerved, then smiled.

“Something like that. We have understudies for each
part, in case an actor gets sick. Only once have I had to step into a major
role. I played Willie Loman in
Death of a Salesman.
”

I wonder what part he played in the death of a actor.
So Longworth admitted he was capable of adapting a persona. I figured as much,
but had no idea if he’d admit it.

It was time to hit him with what brought me to the
inn.

“Get into town much, Mr. Longworth?”

It seemed like the question didn’t bother him as much
as I thought it would, but then he seemed guarded, like he was wondering what
questions would follow.

“Not too often this time of year. I don’t like to go
into town during the winter. Unless I have to.”

“When was the last time you made it in to Hilldale?”

“I can’t say. I’m not real good with dates, unless it
has to do with a function at the inn or something special.”

“Would you believe it was only last Wednesday?”

“Really! Tell me, Lieutenant, have you had someone
watching me?”

“No, if I had, Mr. Longworth, I wouldn’t be here today.”

“So, I’m still a suspect, am I, Lieutenant?”

“Not any more than anyone else. I’m just checking on
some things. Tell me, Mr. Longworth, now that you’ve had a few minutes to think
about it, why were you in town last Wednesday?”

“Oh, I had a few errands to run. Just in case
Thursday’s snow amounted to anything, I wanted to get everything done before
the snow hit. Good thing I did, too.”

“I understand Mr. Le Blanc went into town on
Wednesday, too.”

“Who?”

“Le Blanc. Antoine. Your chef.”

“Oh, yeah. I always forget Antoine’s last name.”

“Did you know he went into town, too?”

“Come to think of it, my wife did mention that he left
shortly after I did.”

“Did he have errands to run, too?”

“He did. Like most chefs, Antoine likes to choose the
ingredients he uses in his cooking. He goes shopping from time to time. He just
happened to choose the same day I did, probably for the same reason.”

“How long have you known Antoine?”

“Not long. When we decided to reopen the inn, we ran
ads in some of the top food magazines and newspapers and talked to friends who
operate cooking schools. We interviewed several top chefs, and then invited
some of them to the inn to cook for us before we made our choice and our offer.
Antoine accepted our first offer, something that is not always the case in this
business.”

“So, you’d never met Antoine prior to his coming
here?”

“Not that I know of. It might be possible, but he
didn’t look familiar.”

“When you hired him, did you realize that he was
Richard Le Blanc’s brother?”

Either Longworth too was a good actor, or he was
stunned to learn this.

“He was poor Richard’s brother?”

“No, Poor Richard was the almanac guy. He was Richard
Le Blanc’s brother.”

“Honestly, Lieutenant, I didn’t know that.”

“Would you have hired him if you’d known?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know. Of course we never
asked him about his family. And I wouldn’t fire him now. I won’t even bring
this up to him, unless you do.”

“Oh, I will, Mr. Longworth. But let’s get back to you.
I understand you’re going to be a wealthy man, if it turns out you’re not the
murderer I’m looking for.”

“How’s that, Lieutenant?”

I banged my fist on the table, almost upsetting my
plate. Longworth jumped.

“Oh, come now, Mr. Longworth. Did you think we wouldn’t
find out about Carter Thornton’s insurance policy?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t. It doesn’t look good for
me, does it, Lieutenant?”

“Well, let’s just say that for the time being you’re
not in the race by yourself.  Other people have things they haven’t revealed to
us, either. Of course money is one of the top motives for committing a crime.”

“I know. That’s the reason I didn’t tell you. Let me
put my cards on the table, such as they are. I didn’t kill Carter Thornton, and
I don’t know who did. He was the best actor I’ve ever encountered. He was
excited about the theater at the inn reopening. He was willing to come on
board, and even signed a contract that he would work for me exclusively for the
next two years. I took out the insurance policy for precautionary purposes.
Health reasons mainly, although I didn’t know of anything wrong with Carter. He
was young, and in a way I thought of him as a son. I would much rather have a
living Carter Thornton than one million dollars. Mr. Oppenheimer provided me
with everything I will ever need.”

“So let’s see if I have this right, Mr. Longworth. You
knew the man who registered as Myles Mycroft was really Carter Thornton.”

“It was my idea for him to spend the weekend at the
inn. When I found out there would be other guests, I called him and told him to
come in some sort of disguise, so no one else would recognize him. I guess that
didn’t work. The reason he had a room away from the other guests was that it
was easier for the two of us to get together and discuss possibilities for
reopening the theater at the inn.”

“Is it possible that someone overheard any part of
your discussions with Thornton and decided to do away with him?”

“It’s possible, Lieutenant, but I doubt it. The two of
us never spoke business around anyone else.”

“What about the other dead man? Matthew Simon? Did you
know that Arthur Plankton and Matthew Simon were one and the same?”

“No, Lieutenant. I did not.”

“So you had no idea who the second victim was until I
showed you the pictures the other morning.”

“I expected it to be someone I knew, but I had no idea
who. His disguise fooled me, as would Carter’s, if I hadn’t known he was
coming.”

“So, you never heard anyone threaten Carter Thornton’s
life?”

“Sure I did. Richard Le Blanc, for one. Even Arthur
Rothschild was bitter after his accident, but I don’t think he ever threatened
anyone’s life. Other actors were jealous of Carter, but I don’t think they were
jealous enough to kill him. Martin Mulroney was a little miffed one time when
he got passed over, and I selected Carter instead. But there’s a big difference
between being miffed and committing murder.

“By the way, one reason I didn’t go to Richard’s funeral
was because I knew that I wasn’t high on his list at that moment. I discouraged
all of our actors from attending, and it was probably good that I did. Some of
his family blamed me and some of my actors for his death.”

He paused, briefly, seemed unnerved.

“Something wrong, Mr. Longworth?”

“It just occurred to me that Antoine was part of that
family. I assume he was bitter, too. Evidently he isn’t still bitter, or he
wouldn’t have come to work for me.”

“Or it could be why he did come to work for you.”

If Longworth was unnerved before, he was stricken by
my most recent comment.

“You don’t really believe that Antoine murdered these
men and will try to murder me, too, do you?”

“To be quite candid with you, Mr. Longworth, I don’t
know what to believe right now. But I would like to talk to Antoine while I’m
here. Is he in?”

“Yes, usually he’s already busy preparing lunch by
this time, but since it is only those of us who live here, he doesn’t cook
quite so elaborately for us as he does for guests. I imagine he’s in his room.
Would you like for me to get him for you?”

“No, just show us where we can find his room.”

+++

Longworth led us behind the check-in desk and down a
hall until he stopped at a door.

“This is his room. I will be in the lobby area if you
need me.”

I knocked on the door, and Antoine answered my knock.
When he opened the door, I suspected that I wasn’t the highlight of his day,
either.

“You’re the police lieutenant, aren’t you?”

“I am, and I have a few more questions I’d like to ask
involving our investigation.”

I doubted if Antoine knew either Profitt or his
sister, but I showed him the picture anyway. He didn’t recognize either of
them. I put the picture back in my pocket, and resumed my questions.

“Why were you in town on Wednesday?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with your investigation.”

“I won’t tell you how to cook. You don’t tell me how
to investigate. Please answer the question.”

“I do my own shopping. I don’t like for others to select
my ingredients at the market. My reputation is at stake, not someone else’s. I
use only the best ingredients in my dishes.”

After listening to his commercial, I continued my questioning.

“Did you do anything else while you were in town,
other than shop?”

“No.”

“When you applied for the position here, why didn’t
you tell Mr. Longworth who your brother was?”

“I wanted to be judged strictly by my dishes. Nothing
else.”

“But didn’t you threaten revenge against Longworth and
some of the actors who worked with him, at your brother’s funeral?”

“That was a long time ago. My brother had just died. I
was very bitter.”

“And you are no longer bitter?”

“I’ve put the past behind me.”

“Ever do any acting, Antoine?”

“I left that to my brother.”

“Thank you. That will be all, but please don’t leave
town.”

“I don’t plan to go anywhere, except to shop for my
dishes.”

+++

Lou and I got up, excused ourselves, and followed the
serpentine hallway back to the check-in desk. As we stepped from behind the
counter, we saw Longworth sitting beside a window, deep in thought. He looked
up, saw us, and got up to greet us.

“It seems he’s not as big of a suspect as I.”

“How do you figure that, Mr. Longworth?”

“You didn’t ask him as many questions.”

“Sometimes it takes only one question to get a confession.”