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The KenKen Killings Part 32

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"Well, that's how it worked with the other number puzzle. The KenKen gave you the street number. The crossword puzzle told us what street. In this case, the crossword puzzle is missing. We have to a.s.sume we have the street number, we just don't know which street. Unless we have the crossword puzzle to narrow it down, we have to check out every address with a one eighty-two in it."

"Oh, for goodness' sakes."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Chief. In the last case, I checked it out, and what did I find? The murder weapon." Cora pointed to the razor on the floor. "Isn't that the murder weapon right there?"

"I would think so."



"So a street address is meaningless. It has to be something else."

"I don't quite follow the logic."

"Trust me, Chief. One eighty-two is not an address. For all we know, one eighty-two doesn't mean anything. The answer could be in the solution to the KenKen."

"How can that be? You told me all KenKens were the same."

"They all add up to the same number. But the order of numbers is different. Let me solve the thing and see what we've got."

"You can't solve this one. We'll have to make a copy."

"Have Dan run it off."

"Dan's busy."

"With what?"

"We have this murder. Pick it up at the station later."

"You're not going to give it to me?"

"Not the original."

Cora shook her head in exasperation. "Gee, Chief, I'm sure glad you called me down here."

Harper grinned. "A crime scene? You wouldn't have missed it for the world."

CHAPTER.

42.

Melvin Crabtree walked up the front steps of the police station, c.o.c.ky, arrogant, head high. From his att.i.tude, he might have been about to receive a medal instead of be arrested for murder.

Rick Reed pushed through the crowd that had formed, stuck a microphone in his face. "Mr. Crabtree, Mr. Crabtree. Is it true you're under arrest for the murder of Lilly Clemson?"

Lennie Fleckstein waved his arms and jumped up and down, as if trying to make up for his diminutive size with an excess of zeal. "No comment! No comment! My client is innocent of these outrageous charges! He is exercising his right to remain silent!"

"Like h.e.l.l!" Melvin said, pus.h.i.+ng his attorney out of the way. "I don't need to remain silent. That's what crooks do to avoid getting caught in a lie. I'm innocent, and the truth can't hurt me."

"Did you know Lilly Clemson?" Rick said.

"She was a witness in my divorce hearing."

"Were you at her apartment?"

"At the time of the murder? Most certainly not."

"Were you ever at her apartment?"

Fleckstein jumped back in. "Now you are asking questions that have nothing to do with the crime. This is why lawyers advise their clients to remain silent. And why clients have the good sense to follow that advice."

Melvin laughed. "My attorney means well, but he is a little over his head. I did not hire him to battle this ridiculous charge. He is here merely to reduce my alimony payments. If I didn't have a lawyer, I wouldn't have hired a lawyer, because I don't need a lawyer. I'm going to have a little chat with the police now, and see if I can point them in the right direction, because they are obviously clueless."

Smiling and waving, Melvin went in the front door.

Cora watched him go. She was well hidden in the midst of the crowd, so as not to be spotted by Rick Reed. Ordinarily, she would have been all too happy to make a statement, but if Sherry saw her defending Melvin on TV, she would never hear the end of it.

Not that Melvin needed defending. The idea that he'd killed someone was absurd. In the first place, it was not in his nature. In the second place, it was not in his interest. There was not a chance in h.e.l.l Melvin had done it, and there was no reason to jump to his defense.

Even so, Cora found herself clenching and unclenching her fists.

In the front of the crowd, obviously equally frustrated, was Bambi, looking particularly doe-eyed and helpless. If she wasn't careful, Rick Reed would pounce on her. Cora wondered if Rick knew who she was. He was an investigative reporter, you'd think that would mean he'd investigate.

As soon as Cora had the thought, the reporter's attention seemed to focus on the bimbo. Of course it could just be because she was young and pretty. Cora grimaced. It really wasn't fair, the whole age advantage thing. Even a mindless twerp like Bambi got such a running start.

Before he reached her, Bambi took a step back into the crowd, leaving Rick with no one to aim his microphone at but Iris Cooper. The selectman was always a good interview, but not what Rick had in mind.

Cora wasn't interested in what her friend had to say. She was interested in finding Chief Harper and asking him politely why he had neglected to mention he was arresting her ex-husband. That small tidbit of information must have slipped his mind.

Cora didn't see the chief, but she spotted a face in the crowd. The current Mrs. Crabtree, she of the clandestine surveillance and perfidious intentions. There she stood, watching her husband hauled off to jail with ill-concealed delight. Cora could empathize with the woman. When she was married to Melvin, there were times she'd felt exactly the same way.

Becky Baldwin fought her way through the crowd, grabbed Cora by the arm. "How the h.e.l.l did this happen?"

"I have no idea. I was on my way to the police station to pick up a copy of the KenKen, and all h.e.l.l broke loose."

"What KenKen?"

Cora filled Becky in on her trip to the crime scene.

"Harper was there?"

"Yeah."

"He didn't tell you he was going to arrest Melvin?"

"No, and it's going to cost him."

"Maybe he didn't know at the time."

"Unless he stumbled on a note in the victim's pocket saying, 'Why don't you arrest Melvin?' he knew at the time."

"I see."

"Becky, you've got to defend him."

"What! Are you kidding me?"

"His lawyer's a moron. He can't handle this."

"I can't either. I'm your lawyer. Conflict of interest, remember?"

"I don't think it applies. I mean, I'm not suspected of the murder."

"You should be. Every witness who testifies against you gets whacked."

"No one believes that. You should be Melvin's lawyer."

"Why? Why do you want me to?"

"Because I don't know the facts. I'm groping around in the dark. Melvin's been arrested, and I don't know why. If you're his lawyer, you can find out. I need the facts to solve this case."

"Like h.e.l.l," Becky said.

"Excuse me?"

"As if you couldn't get the facts. Chief Harper's going to be so eager to make it up to you, he'll tell you anything you want. You just want me to protect the guy."

"That's ridiculous."

"Oh, yeah? When there wasn't the slightest chance Melvin was involved, you didn't want me anywhere near him. Now he's in trouble you don't give it a second thought." Becky put up her hand. "Not that I don't need the work, but I don't really want to get a reputation for stealing other lawyers' clients. If you don't mind, I'm sitting this one out."

Before Cora could protest, Becky slipped away in the crowd.

Cora saw Dan Finley coming toward her.

"Dan, what's going on?"

"Got the puzzle for you." He handed her the KenKen.

"Yeah, yeah," Cora said impatiently. "Why did you arrest Melvin?"

"Chief Harper told me to." When Cora started to fly mad, he put up his hands. "Hey, not my fault."

"What do you have on him?"

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Oh, come on. You know Chief Harper will tell me."

"The chief can tell you anything he wants. Because the chief won't get mad at the chief for telling."

"So I won't tell him you told me. Come on, Dan. It's me, Cora. What's the scoop?"

"Oh, h.e.l.l." Dan glanced around to make sure no one was listening, and filled her in on the boyfriend's account of Melvin's visit to Lilly Clemson.

"So, the chief held out on me," Cora said.

"Yeah, but you can't accuse him of it until you hear it from someone else."

"Where is the chief?"

"Probably still out at the crime scene."

"You going out there?"

Dan shook his head. "No, and neither are you. I gotta run the murder weapon down to the lab. You gotta be a good girl and stay out of trouble." He smiled, headed for his car.

Cora fumed. That was the problem with a small-town police force. With Dan on the way to the lab, Chief Harper at the crime scene, and Sam Brogan on crowd control, there was no one left to bother.

And no one watching the prisoner.

That left him locked up inside. His lawyer was with him, but no police officer.

Cora fumbled in her purse for a cigarette. Came out with her gun. That was an idea. She could shoot her way in and have a talk with Melvin.

Cora stuck the gun back in her purse, pulled out her cigarettes. Looked for a match. Of course she didn't have one. It was that type of day. She glanced around for someone she could ask. No one smoked anymore. d.a.m.n. What was the world coming to?

Cora started pulling things out of her purse. The first thing she came up with was her diaphragm. Great. Let's wave that around the crowd a little. Rick Reed can get a shot.

Cora stuck it back, groped some more. What felt like a lighter was only a lipstick. Another thing that felt like a lighter actually was but didn't work.

An oddly shaped object proved to be a string of little firecrackers. She'd picked them up in a novelty shop for far more than they were worth. Probably meant they were illegal. She wasn't up on such ordinances. She shoved them back in the purse, groped some more.

Just as she was cursing her fate, one lone match.

Cora turned her back to the wind, bent over, cupped her hands. Flames shot up toward the cigarette. She sucked in. Yes. No. Yes!

The cigarette caught fire. Cora blew out the match, straightened up, sucked glorious smoke into her lungs. Smiled wryly at the irony of feeling elation at satisfying a disgusting vice. Cora didn't care. She sucked at the nicotine, tried to calm her frazzled nerves.

Tried to think straight. Becky was right, d.a.m.n it. It was Melvin, and she wasn't thinking straight. Or was it Sherry who'd said that? Or everybody?

Cora looked over at the police station, where Rick Reed was trying to interview Sam Brogan. That would be a fascinating interview. Rick would be lucky if he got anything besides "Yup" or "Un-huh."

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