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Authors: Nero Blanc

BOOK: The Crossword Murder
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“No. I'd never seen him before in my life.”

Belle began counting the men JaneAlice might have recognized: Steven Housemann, Bartholomew Kerr, Pat Anderson—the entire
Herald
staff.

“JaneAlice … dear … there's an actor playing the part of John Wilkes Booth down at—”

“Oh, Vance, he's such a lovely young thing. A close friend of Mr. Briephs. No, it wasn't Vance. Vance wouldn't hurt a fly. He's very handsome … like a young Sylvester Stallone, don't you think?”

“In a bovine sort of way,” Belle muttered while she continued fussing with the roses. After a moment, she resumed her disinterested tone. “So, you mailed those puzzles yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Who did you mail them to?”

JaneAlice didn't answer. Instead, she waited for Belle to turn and face her. “I don't know …”

“You don't know?”

“No, I mean, I don't know if I should tell you. I'm afraid you'll get mad at me.”

“Oh, JaneAlice, I'd never get mad. Why would I do a thing like that?”

A guilty grin twisted across JaneAlice's unhappy face. “Well, Mrs. Graham—”

“Call me Belle, please.”

“Well, Belle, this person called me. Threatened me. The voice made me think of that Clint Eastwood movie,
Play Misty for Me
. Have you ever seen it?”

“No.”

“It's awfully scary. Jessica Walter co-stars as a woman obsessed … Anyway, I guess I had Mr. Eastwood on my mind because I decided the puzzles should go to
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
. After that nasty telephone call, I was convinced they revealed the name of Mr. Briephs' murderer; that's why the killer wanted them so badly … But I'm not very good at cryptics—despite working for Mr. Briephs for so many years—and he left no answers to the clues … I guess what I hoped was that one of the three people would become sufficiently intrigued …”

Belle was beginning to lose her patience, but she retained her warm smile. “And who were the
three
people, JaneAlice?”

“You don't know? They didn't get them?”

“JaneAlice!” Belle snapped, then caught herself and pasted another smile on her face. “As I said, dear;
two
have been received. The
third
is still missing.”

“Well, the
Ugly
is Mr. Kerr. Anyone could have told you that. The way he snoops around the
Herald
offices … Always burrowing around looking for dirt and unpleasantness … and he's not a real gentleman … No matter how much he tries to act the part. I remember one time—”

“Yes,” Belle interrupted, “I'm sure … Who else did you mail the puzzles to,
dear?”

“Well, the
Good
of course is Mr. Briephs' mother. Some people find her gruff, but she's always been more than cordial with me … even when Mr. Briephs was in one of his
moods
, and threatened to fire me. Mrs. Briephs could always be counted on to calm her son, and make him understand how important a good secretary can be. She really is a good person, you know. How is she, by the way?”

“Just fine.” Belle could feel her teeth grinding into one another and tension spreading through her jaw. “And who might the
Bad
be, JaneAlice?”

“Oh, I thought you would have guessed by now.”

“I suppose not.”

JaneAlice missed the sarcasm in Belle's response; instead she began laughing softly. “I can't believe you haven't.”

“No … I haven't guessed, JaneAlice.”

“But it's you.
You're
the Bad. Because you work for that other newspaper. I hope you're not cross with me.”

“You mailed it to me? But I never received it! Are you sure you had the correct address?”

“You live on Captain's Walk, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“I thought if the other two weren't sufficiently interested in solving the puzzles, you would be. Oh, well, I guess it must be lost in the mail. It happens all the time, you know.”

“But, JaneAlice, we need that last puzzle to find out who killed Mr. Briephs. Did you make copies?”

“Oh my, no. I didn't want them anywhere near me … Oh, I do hope I did the right thing—”

Belle walked to the window, picked up the three remaining roses and stuffed them into the vase. Then she balled up the wrapping paper and jammed it into the trash basket; the activity only partially relieved her mounting frustration. How does Rosco tolerate this interrogation business? she wondered. Then her previous suspicions returned full-bore. Perhaps the simpering secretary routine was merely an act. Maybe JaneAlice wasn't as dumb—or as docile—as she seemed. Or could she and her mysterious assailant have been partners who'd plotted Briephs' murder and subsequently argued? Or had the mugging merely been a random act of violence unconnected to the murder? Belle glued a polite smile to her lips. “I'm sorry I can't stay longer, JaneAlice, but I have a deadline. I'm sure you know what that's like.”

“Oh, yes. Deadlines used to be torture for Mr. Briephs.”

Belle walked to the door, opened it, but turned back to the room with a final question. “JaneAlice, dear, have you ever met Mr. Briephs' uncle, Senator Hal Crane?”

“Oh, yes, he's a lovely man. Did you know he's in Southeast Asia right now? He sent us a postcard from Hue.”

“Yes, I know. Actually he's returning today. Anyway, there's a man who works for the Senator. His name is John Bulldog Roth. Have you ever seen or met him?”

“No, I don't think so … Is he good-looking?”

“If your taste runs to attack dogs.”

“Is he married?”

“I doubt it.”

“Well, don't worry about the puzzle, Belle,
The Postman Always Rings Twice
.” JaneAlice tried to laugh at her little joke, but a sharp pain in her side quickly erased any evidence of a smile.

Before Belle left the hospital, she phoned the post office and asked to speak with a supervisor. She was told it would be almost impossible to locate a missing letter—and that she should wait. If it didn't turn up in three months, they would “attempt” to put a trace on it. When the supervisor was informed the letter had neither been registered nor dispatched by overnight service, Belle was greeted by an annoyed sigh and a curt, “Well, we can't be held responsible for every insignificant piece of paper that passes through the system.”

“Thank you,” Belle responded. “You've been most helpful.”

Her sarcasm was wholly lost on her listener.

The drive back to her house seemed to take forever. She was tempted to speed, but then realized there was nothing waiting for her. Even if the puzzle had been only slightly delayed, there wouldn't be another delivery until the next morning. Nonetheless, she checked her mailbox before opening the front door. It was empty. She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator before remembering that it, too, was empty. She then sat on a stool, placed her elbows on the counter, rested her face in the palms of her hands and sighed.

Out of boredom, she reached for Garet's latest copy of
Art on the Move
and began leafing through it, back to front. The last few pages of the glossy magazine were filled with classified ads for various pieces of artwork, as well as outrageously priced real estate properties in North Carolina and Connecticut. The next section was dedicated to a listing of curators who had changed positions or moved to different museums. After that, Belle came to the only portion of the magazine she found remotely interesting: photographs of stolen artwork which the editors believed all collectors and curators should be apprised of.

She flipped slowly through the pages and on the third spotted a small and somewhat blurred photo of an amphora executed in a red-and-black design. She tried to go on to the next page but her eyes kept returning to the one picture. The caption beneath the photo explained the pieces provenance; it also stated that it had been stolen from a museum in Istanbul six months before. Present whereabouts unknown.

“Not anymore,” Belle murmured; she was convinced it was one of the pieces she'd seen in Thompson Briephs' home the previous morning. She tossed the magazine onto the kitchen counter and darted into Garet's home office where she began tearing through previous issues of
Art on the Move
. In almost half the magazines she discovered a piece she recognized from Windword Islands.

“It's all stolen!” she exclaimed. “Rosco's not going to believe this!” She hurried toward her own office, but as she passed through the kitchen she noticed the latest copy of
Art on the Move
had fallen to the floor. She stooped to pick it up, and as she did so, a business-size envelope slipped from the pages and slid beneath the stove.

“Oh, darn.” Belle pulled a large knife from a drawer, got down on her hands and knees and extracted the envelope. It was addressed to her. The handwriting was the same shaky scrawl that had been scribbled across Sara Briephs' envelope. Belle tore it open. Inside was the fifth crossword.

PUZZLE #5

Across

1.
Pendleton, maybe?

6.
Deadly one

9.
Jester

14.
Walk-on

15.
Nucleic acid

16.
Shortwave

17.
Error's partner

18.
Gullet

19.
Correct

20.
Elvis said it best

23.
Duct

24.
Center

25.
100 yrs.

26.
It's a trap!

27.
Certain Nicaraguan

30.
French for 42-Across

33.
Own, Scottish

34.
Scrap

36.
Senator's bagman

41.
Marlins' home: abbr.

42.
So long!

43.
Classic lover?

44.
I was one!

47.
Swedish import

49.
Gun grp.

50.
50%

51.
It's often enclosed: abbr.

54.
Porky Pig said it best

57.
“I have ___ eye, Uncle,” Shak.

59.
L.A. time

60.
Elis and Tigers

61.
Where to dump hot stuff?

62.
Resident of, suffix

63.
Pawnee home

64.
Travels

65.
___Beatty

66.
No longer the Shah's?

Down

1.
You won't find 43-Across here

2.
Magna ___

3.
Something's ___

4.
Average

5.
Pony gang?

6.
Gun locker

7.
It's a trap!

8.
Where to dump hot stuff? slang

9.
Cowardly

10.
Mourn

11.
German river

12.
“Heads, I ___!”

13.
Doze

21.
Court

22.
Rental car class: abbr.

26.
Murderer's retirement home?

27.
“El ___,” Heston film

28.
Space

29.
“The ___ of Rhetorique,” Wilson

30.
Indy inits.

31.
Hand-out

32.
“If ___ a Hammer”

33.
Tankard filling

35.
In spite of, informal

37.
WW II craft

38.
Songlike: abbr.

39.
Wall flowers?

40.
Steal

45.
Owe

46.
Baseball deals

47.
Like some nuts

48.
“Death closes___” Tennyson

50.
Waste maker

51.
___ Mickey to: drug

52.
“___ intelligent mind,” Aristophanes

53.
Curves

54.
Chime

55.
___ control

56.
“It's all ___,” Cosell

57.
Rear

58.
ECM member

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

CHAPTER 33

A
FTER
B
ELLE FINISHED
inking in the answers to the final puzzle, she grabbed the telephone and punched in Rosco's office number, then smiled to herself and thought, This is a good sign, I have the number memorized. The phone rang four times and was picked up by an answering machine. She left no message, instead hanging up and trying his car phone. There was no response there, either. Belle returned her attention to Briephs' puzzle, hunkered down in her chair and studied the words and clues. All at once, everything seemed to fall into place.

She'd been certain the killer's name would contain fifteen letters, and there it was, revealed in stark black and white—36-Across: JOHN BULLDOG ROTH. The other two long answers—20-Across: IT'S NOW OR NEVER, and 54-Across: THAT'S ALL FOLKS, served to further convince her that every mysterious link had been solved in this final puzzle. She began thinking out loud.

“56-Down:
It's all
OVER; 48-Down:
Death closes
ALL; 57-Across:
I have
A GOOD
eye, Uncle
, and 12-Down:
Heads I
WIN. Again Briephs mentions himself, but this time employing the past tense—44-Across: EDITOR. He
was
an editor. The entrapment clues are also repeated—26-Across: PLOY; 7-Down: SNARE.”

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