The KenKen Killings Part 12

"You're crazy. You're out of your mind."

Cora grimaced. "See, now, that's not the answer I was hoping for. Let me make it easier for you. Did you know my ex-husband before today?"

"No."

"That's Melvin. The one suing me now in court. Did you know him?"

"I said no."

"Okay. Did you know of him?"

"What?"

"Had you been contacted by anyone representing Melvin? Had you been approached by anyone with any threats or inducements to do me wrong?"

"That's absurd."

"My sentiments exactly. Do you deny it?"

"Of course I deny it. Now will you get out of my house?"

"What did you think was stolen?"

"Huh?"

"When you called the police. To report the burglary. Where nothing was taken. What did you think was taken?"

"Nothing."

"Then why did you call the police?"

"My house was broken into. Maybe that doesn't mean anything to you. Obviously it doesn't, since you've just done it again."

"I haven't done it again. I never broke into your house before, and I resent the implication."

"This is a nightmare."

"Yes, but it's my nightmare, and I'm just trying to make it make sense. Let me put it this way. You meet any young blondes lately?"

"What?"

"Of the practically prep.u.b.escent variety. s.e.xy, alluring, and out of your league. Way too interested in you for your type of guy."

"Hey!"

"Anyone like that in your life?"

"My personal life is none of your business."

"Obviously not, or you'd be bragging about it. All right, let me put it another way. Do you do KenKen?"

"What?"

"The puzzle found in your safe. The KenKen. Do you do them?"

"Why?"

"You do. That's interesting. Who knows you do KenKen? Is it a secret vice? Or do you do 'em on your coffee break at the bank? Or when things are just slow?"

"Would you leave? I gotta put my food away."

Cora heaved herself off the couch, grabbed a bag of groceries. "Come on. I'll help you." She headed for the kitchen.

Roger looked at her in exasperation. He picked up the case of beer, trailed along behind.

Cora put the bag of groceries on the kitchen table, opened the refrigerator door. "Here you go. Wanna put away the perishables? Maybe a couple of beers. I don't drink it, but you could probably use a few."

The banker still looked somewhat dazed. "This can't be happening."

"Yeah, but it is. What have we got here? Milk. Orange juice. Healthy boy." She put the cartons in the fridge. "Got any eggs? Cottage cheese? Yogurt? Frozen foods? No, just cans and dry food. Looks like we're good to go."

Cora closed the refrigerator door. "So. This teller who brought you the check. Why did you remember it so vividly? She a cutie? You sweet on her?"

"I don't think I'm supposed to talk to you. Isn't there a law against tampering with witnesses?"

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake. This isn't a murder trial. This is a sneaky ploy by a scheming ex-husband in an alimony proceeding. Do you really want to be a part of that?"

"Now I am going to call the police."

"So the KenKen meant nothing to you."

"Of course not."

"Did you solve it?"

"Huh?"

"You do KenKen. Did you solve this one?"

"The police took it."

"Right. As evidence of the nonburglary. Well, I got good news for you." Cora reached into her floppy drawstring purse, pulled out a piece of paper. "I got a copy for you. Just in case you'd like to solve it."

"Why?"

"If someone broke into my house and left something for me, I'd want to know what it was." Cora whipped out a pencil, thrust it at the banker. "Here you go. It's a 4-by-4. Piece of cake. Bet you can do it in less than a minute."

"I don't understand. Why do you want me to solve it?"

"Because it's there. You know, like why did they climb Everest. In this case, because it's there. In your room. After the robbery. I would think you'd like to know why." She c.o.c.ked her head and said insinuatingly, "And if you don't want to know why, that would be interesting in itself."

The banker exhaled noisily. He s.n.a.t.c.hed the pencil from her, solved the KenKen. Slapped the pencil down on the table. "There."

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it? Let's see if you got it right."

"Of course I got it right."

"I'm sure you did, but I'm going to take a look." Cora scanned the KenKen. "Yeah, that's it all right. That the first time you ever solved it?"

"Obviously."

"You had no idea what the answer was?"

"Not at all."

"Take a look at it, see if it means anything to you."

"How could it?"

"You tell me."

He glared at her, picked up the KenKen, scanned it, and put it back on the table.

"Well?" Cora said. "How about it? That ring any bells? Look familiar? Mean anything to you?"

He shook his head. "Not a d.a.m.n thing."

CHAPTER.

18.

The phone rang in the middle of the night. Cora grabbed for it, knocked it off the nightstand. Or would have, had there been a phone on the nightstand. As it was, she knocked off her gla.s.ses, keys, and ashtray.

Cora heaved herself to her feet, stumbled past the other bedroom, where Sherry and Aaron were snoring like a pair of porpoises, worn out, no doubt, from connubial bliss. She staggered into the office, flipped on a light, grabbed the phone.

"h.e.l.lo?" she growled.

"Cora?"

"Yes."

"Chief Harper."

"What the h.e.l.l time is it?"

"Three A.M."

"This better be good."

"Randolph's dead."

"What?"

"He's been murdered. Shot in the head."

"It couldn't be self-inflicted?"

"No. It's murder."

"When was he killed?"

"I don't know."

Cora frowned. "How is that possible?"

"I gotta get off the phone. Just thought you'd like to know," Harper said, and hung up.

Cora described the chief in terms that were hardly laudatory yet loud and quite elaborate.

Sherry staggered in the door. "What's going on?"

"Harper called. It's a murder."

"Who?"

"Randolph."

"Guy who got robbed?"

"He wasn't really robbed."

"But he's really dead?"

"According to the chief."

Cora went back in her room and pulled on her clothes. Halfway through getting dressed, she stopped and checked her purse. Her gun was in it. It had not been fired.

Cora sighed.

That was a relief.

But only slightly.