Read The April Fools' Day Murder Online

Authors: Lee Harris

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths

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BOOK: The April Fools' Day Murder
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I turned to find Joseph. She was standing in the back, near the door, looking thoughtful, as though she had all the time in the world. When she saw me coming toward her, she smiled and pushed the door open.

“Did you see the young couple sitting in a pew on the right?” she asked.

“I noticed them. Is she a student?”

“A sophomore. I assume that’s a boyfriend. He comes frequently on the weekends and they always sit in the same place, holding hands and whispering. There are other places they could sit, places they could be warmer and more comfortable. The cafeteria is open to guests. But they always come here. It’s rather a sweet mystery.”

“It is sweet,” I said.

“Do they talk about religion? I wonder. Or about themselves? Or perhaps some problem they have that they share with no one else.”

“Sometimes just being in love is a problem. He’s in one place, she’s in another. It’s nice that they feel comfortable in the chapel.”

“Yes it is.”

We walked toward the college buildings. A few hardy students were out reading under leafless trees. Others were walking alone or in groups. I listened to the sound of girls’ voices, happy voices.

“I hope the convent survives the way it is,” I said.

“We all do, but we must be realists.”

“That’s not easy.”

“No, but it’s less disappointing than being an optimist in a bad situation.”

“I suppose so.”

“Don’t sound so sad, Chris. I’m working very hard to keep things the way we all want them. Father Kramer is working with me. The bishop is familiar with our needs. We won’t give up.”

My eyes were full of tears. This place had saved my life. These women had given me a home. This particular woman had helped me make something of myself while letting me believe I had done it on my own. I wanted this place and these people to exist forever.

Near the cafeteria we ran into Jack and Eddie and their escorts. It gave me a lift.

“You’re very quiet,” Jack said on the way home. “It’s the first time I’ve ever heard Joseph talking so seriously about whether the convent will survive.”

“That bad?”

“There are so few novices. I hate to think what the average age of the nuns is today.”

“She have any ideas?”

“Nothing that I like.”

He patted my hand. “Eddie and I had a good walk. It’s a beautiful place. Kind of makes me feel good just to be there.”

That was my point.

18

At home I told Jack what Joseph and I had discussed. I didn’t know how to find information on the fatal accident Winnie had been involved in without going through police files. There are local newspapers where we live, but they are not the quality of the major papers in the metropolitan area. Besides being poorly written and copy-edited, they have little of the kind of information I was looking for.

Jack called the police station. He has a very good relationship with the Oakwood police force. One or two of the cops have become good acquaintances and keep him posted when he needs to know something.

But after he asked if he could see the file on the Platt accident, I was aware from the way he spoke that he had been turned down.

“Could you tell me who was first on the scene?” he asked. He had a pen in his hand. “Uh-huh. Yeah, I see. Any detectives involved?” He wrote something and thanked whomever he was talking to.

“Boy, they’re tight on this one.”

“He won’t let you see the file?”

“He gave me a song and dance about a child being
involved. I don’t know if he was making it up as he went along or whether they’ve gotten the word from the commissioner—”

“Or the mayor,” I suggested.

“Yeah, right. It could be the mayor. Anyway, he gave me a couple of names and he’s probably on the phone right now telling these guys not to open their mouths to me.”

“I don’t understand it. It was an accident that involved only one car, so there wasn’t any lawsuit. What could be the problem?”

“You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever asked to see a file. It’s possible they just don’t like letting anyone outside the department look at them. In the past, I’ve asked when an autopsy took place, what the results were, that kind of thing. So let’s see if I can find out what’s going on from the cop on the scene and the detective who followed up. You’ll be glad to know you already know the detective.” He gave me a grin.

“I do?”

“The one you got on with so well when that homicide happened last Mother’s Day.”

“Oh
that
one.” I’d had my problems with Detective Joe Fox, but we ended up working together when I led him to a killer. “You talk to him, OK?”

“Sure. Let me wait till tomorrow morning when everyone’s back at work. Including me.”

On Monday morning I went out with Eddie after breakfast, getting back about ten-thirty. I decided that was late enough that Amelia Chester would be awake. I called her
number and waited for many rings until she answered, her voice so weak I could barely hear her.

“Mrs. Chester, this is Chris Bennett. We talked on Saturday.”

“Chris. Yes.”

She sounded really bad and I wondered if I should call her sister and tell her. “I just wanted to know how you’re feeling.”

I heard her take a couple of breaths. “Not very good today.”

“I’m sorry.” I felt terrible. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Let me get back into bed.”

“I apologize. I didn’t know you were sleeping.”

“I wasn’t.” She hung up.

I knew as I put the phone down that there was no hope, either for her or for my desire to get the information that I needed. I sat thinking about this old, sick woman, alone in her apartment. Before I could think about what to do, the phone rang.

I grabbed it, hoping it was Amelia. To my surprise, it was Winnie Platt.

“Chris,” she said. “I have a favor to ask you.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Could you come up here and help me practice my driving for half an hour?”

“I’ll be there. Eddie is with me. Is that all right?”

“I’d love to see him.”

Eddie was happy to visit her. He liked the house and he liked her. I told him we would sit in her car while she practiced driving but I think that left him confused. Older people knew how to drive.

When we got there, I transferred our child’s seat to the
back of her car and got Eddie in it. Then I sat next to Winnie as she took the wheel.

“It’s such a big car,” she said. “Will always liked them big but I didn’t. I feel like I’m the captain of a battleship.”

“You’ll get over it. When you see how easily you can move it, you won’t think about the size.”

She backed out of the driveway somewhat unsteadily, but it was a wide driveway and she stayed off the lawn. Then, to my surprise, she headed down the hill.

“Oh, you’re going to Oakwood Avenue?” I said.

“Yes, didn’t I tell you?”

“Sorry. I thought you were just going to drive up and down the hill here.”

“I did that with Toni. I want to try real traffic with you next to me before I go out alone.”

“You’re doing fine,” I said.

She got down to the bottom of the hill, stopped smoothly, put her turn signal on, and turned right. I knew we would pass the place where the accident had occurred, and maybe that was what she wanted to do, prove to herself that she could do it. She kept the speed down to twenty-five miles an hour, hardly touching the accelerator, although the limit was forty, and two cars passed her, the driver of one giving her a nasty look. It didn’t seem to faze her. She looked straight ahead, her hands gripping the wheel rather tightly.

“You’re doing well, Winnie,” I said. “Absolutely fine.”

“Thank you. Roger’s house is down that way.” She let go of the wheel for a second and pointed with her left hand. “Remember?”

We kept going and at some point I realized we had passed the site of the accident. “Just fine,” I said.

“It really comes back, doesn’t it?”

“You’re a good driver, Winnie.”

“Yes, I feel better now.” She kept going, and I wondered if she had a destination in mind or if she was just looking for a place to turn around, but it didn’t matter. I knew it was important for her to do this, and I had plenty of time.

“I’m taking you both to lunch,” she said, her face relaxing into a smile.

“Lunch!” Eddie said excitedly from the backseat.

“Yes, Eddie, I’m taking you and your mommy to lunch. Do you like to eat in restaurants?”

“I want pizza,” Eddie said ungraciously.

“You’ll get something nice,” I assured him.

“He’s very sweet,” she said generously. “We’ll have a nice lunch, Eddie.” She was much more at ease, and I realized she had risen to the challenge. It was the first time she had been behind the wheel at that place since the accident. She knew now that she could do it. I felt a great admiration for this woman. The worst possible thing had happened to her, something that surely haunted her awake and asleep, but she knew now she had overcome it enough to be independent once more.

“Do you want to turn around and go in the other direction?” I asked her.

“I don’t think so. I’ve done what I wanted to. You’ve heard about it, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Even with Will driving, I always shut my eyes when we reached that place. But I knew if I was going to be able to get my own groceries and take my clothes to the cleaner, I had to overcome that.”

“You did very well.”

“Yes, I did well.” She smiled. “How’s the Oakwood Diner?” she asked. “I don’t know if Eddie can get what he wants there, but there’s lots of good food and they’ll wrap up what’s left so you can eat the leftovers at home.”

“That sounds good.”

“Do you need anything at Prince’s?” she asked, as though she had such control over her life that she could deviate from a plan with no untoward consequences.

“Thanks, we’re fine. But if you want to stop for yourself—”

“No. Toni saw to it that I have enough in the house to keep me going for a week at least. But I can go there anytime I want now.”

She drove past Prince’s parking lot and Eddie pointed to it and called out its name. I guess he knew it so well because he sometimes got a cookie as a present when we shopped there.

“You’re a smart boy, Eddie,” Winnie said. “We’re going to have lunch at the diner. Do you know the diner too?”

“No,” he said. “What’s the diner?”

“You’ll see.”

I told Winnie that I didn’t take him out for lunch very often and she said good, it would be a new experience for him. She pulled into their parking lot and we all got out. Inside, they gave Eddie a booster seat and we sat opposite Winnie and went through the enormous menu.

After we had ordered, Winnie said, “Toni told you about the will, didn’t she?”

“Yes. She called Saturday night. I take it you didn’t know anything about the second one.”

“I had no idea. It was such a shock, such a happy surprise, really. I had thought Roger would inherit nothing of Will’s money.”

“I gather they didn’t get along very well.”

“It was awful. This was my wonderful son, so bright and so mixed up. Will and I argued about how he treated Roger, but Will was a stubborn man. His son had to do what his father wanted him to do. It never seemed to make a difference that Roger did what he liked, was a happy man, had a wonderful family, and was successful at his work.

“Toni, on the other hand, could do no wrong. Not that she ever did anything wrong; it’s just that Will forgave everything. When he wrote his will all those years ago and left everything to Toni after my death, I was heartsick.”

“I can understand that.”

“And then he changed the will and never told me.”

Our food came and I got Eddie started, hoping he wouldn’t make a mess and knowing he probably would. Winnie had been right about the size of the portions. They were huge. Eddie and I would have lunch another time with our leftovers.

“Did your husband’s relationship to Roger change in the last few years?” I asked. “After that second will was written?”

“Not that I noticed. It’s as though he separated the money from his feelings. Although I have to say that by this time, Roger was the one that didn’t want a relationship with his father. He’d struggled for so long and lost, I think he just gave up.”

“Have the police said anything about their investigation?” I asked.

“Nothing. They’ve been to the house more times than
I can count. They took a million pictures of the garage, then a lot more when we found the missing cane. They asked the same questions over and over. How did the cane get there? Who has a key to the house? Why did it take you so long to find it? It’s as if they’re waiting for someone to make a mistake and tell them what they’re hoping to hear. But there’s no mistake. Someone came and killed my husband and I don’t know who it was.”

“If someone had taken the cane and shoved it through the opening in the basement window, how would he have gotten from the garage to that window?”

“He would have had to go to the back of the house. He could have done it two ways, around the garage or across the front and then around the other side of the house.”

“Where you were sitting that afternoon, would you have seen someone go across the back of the house?”

“I’m sure I would have,” she said. “It’s all glass back there. You’ve seen it. How could anyone walk in front of those picture windows and sliding doors without my seeing him?”

That, of course, was exactly my question. “But if he took a chance and went across the front of the house, then he could have pushed the cane into the basement without you seeing him.”

“But the mailman could have seen him if he was driving by. Did anyone talk to the mailman?”

“I did,” I said. “I don’t know if the police did.”

“The police think my son did this,” Winnie said sadly. “He didn’t. He may not have gotten along with his father, but he’s not a killer. Why would he do such a thing? It isn’t logical.”

I had felt the same way when I knew that Roger stood
to inherit nothing. “Could Roger have known about the new will?” I asked softly.

“If I didn’t know, nobody knew.” She said it with a note of defiance.

BOOK: The April Fools' Day Murder
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