Read Online The April Fools' Day Murder by Lee Harris - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lee Harris
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It’s late and dark and you must be very tired.”
“Yes,” she said as though she were far away.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Did your daughter arrive?”
“Oh yes. It’s good to have her here.”
“Good night then.”
I grabbed the carafe of coffee and took it in to the family room, poured for both of us, and brought it back to the kitchen. “The cane’s not in the garage,” I told Jack.
“So it looks like our killer took it with him. Kinda crazything to do. It isn’t worth anything, and if he’s stopped, it’s evidence.”
“Killers aren’t the smartest people in the world.”
“This one’s pretty smart, or at least lucky. With three carloads of kids coming to that house, he managed to show up when they were gone.”
“That was lucky,” I said. Maybe he had been lurking around the area, although it wasn’t an easy area to find cover in. But there were trees and shrubs he could have hidden behind.
But why? I asked myself. What could this retired grandfather have done to provoke someone to kill him? And where had his son been all that long afternoon? I would have to find out.
Tuesday is the day I teach at a local college. It’s also one of Eddie’s nursery school days. I asked Elsie to pick him up so I could get a few things done.
I had one of my good lunches at the college, prepared by the food service students, and picked up a fresh apple pie to take home. Then I stopped by the Platts’ house.
A woman in her forties opened the door and introduced herself as Toni Cutler, the Platts’ daughter.
“I’m Chris Brooks.” I offered my hand. “How is your mother?”
“She’s all right. I think we’re all so dazed it hasn’t sunk in yet. Are you the one who was looking for the cane?”
“Yes. The one your father was carrying last Saturday.”
“Come on in.” She turned toward the kitchen. “Mom? Chris Brooks is here.”
Winnie Platt came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a small towel. “Chris, I’ve been through the garageover and over. The cane isn’t there. And it’s not in any of the places Will ever kept them. What does that mean?”
“Someone walked away with it,” I said. “Maybe the person who killed him.”
“What would anyone want an old cane for?”
“I don’t know.” I turned to her daughter. “Can I drive you anywhere?”
“Oh, no, thanks. I have Dad’s car and I’ve already been out to pick some things up. And Mom and I have arranged for the funeral.”
“When will it be?”
“Thursday. The Medical Examiner’s office will release the body either this afternoon or tomorrow morning. I’ve been trying to reach my brother but he isn’t home, and Doris doesn’t know where he is.”
I had a pretty good idea but I didn’t say anything. Apparently Roger hadn’t let his mother know he had a cell phone. “I’m sure he’ll come home for dinner,” I said, biting my tongue. “Could we sit in the kitchen and talk for a moment?”
“Of course.”
I followed Winnie Platt and her daughter into a palatial kitchen. My friend Melanie would probably claim it for her own if she saw it. It looked like a cook’s dream. At one end was a round dark-stained oak table with matching chairs, and the three of us sat around it. “Mrs. Platt, I wanted to ask you about something my husband learned yesterday.”
She looked at me expectantly.
“The Medical Examiner looked at your husband’s body.” I didn’t want to be too graphic, but I was sure she understood what I was alluding to.
“I know that. I asked them not to, but in cases like this, it’s the law.”
“That’s right. And he discovered an old gunshot wound.” I stopped and let her absorb it.
“That’s not possible,” she said finally.
“My dad was never shot,” Toni said. “We would remember.”
“It was an old wound.”
“Well, the war,” Mrs. Platt said. “He was in the Pacific. I think I told you. He saw action. He never talked much about it but it’s possible he
“Yes,” she said as though she were far away.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Did your daughter arrive?”
“Oh yes. It’s good to have her here.”
“Good night then.”
I grabbed the carafe of coffee and took it in to the family room, poured for both of us, and brought it back to the kitchen. “The cane’s not in the garage,” I told Jack.
“So it looks like our killer took it with him. Kinda crazything to do. It isn’t worth anything, and if he’s stopped, it’s evidence.”
“Killers aren’t the smartest people in the world.”
“This one’s pretty smart, or at least lucky. With three carloads of kids coming to that house, he managed to show up when they were gone.”
“That was lucky,” I said. Maybe he had been lurking around the area, although it wasn’t an easy area to find cover in. But there were trees and shrubs he could have hidden behind.
But why? I asked myself. What could this retired grandfather have done to provoke someone to kill him? And where had his son been all that long afternoon? I would have to find out.
Tuesday is the day I teach at a local college. It’s also one of Eddie’s nursery school days. I asked Elsie to pick him up so I could get a few things done.
I had one of my good lunches at the college, prepared by the food service students, and picked up a fresh apple pie to take home. Then I stopped by the Platts’ house.
A woman in her forties opened the door and introduced herself as Toni Cutler, the Platts’ daughter.
“I’m Chris Brooks.” I offered my hand. “How is your mother?”
“She’s all right. I think we’re all so dazed it hasn’t sunk in yet. Are you the one who was looking for the cane?”
“Yes. The one your father was carrying last Saturday.”
“Come on in.” She turned toward the kitchen. “Mom? Chris Brooks is here.”
Winnie Platt came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a small towel. “Chris, I’ve been through the garageover and over. The cane isn’t there. And it’s not in any of the places Will ever kept them. What does that mean?”
“Someone walked away with it,” I said. “Maybe the person who killed him.”
“What would anyone want an old cane for?”
“I don’t know.” I turned to her daughter. “Can I drive you anywhere?”
“Oh, no, thanks. I have Dad’s car and I’ve already been out to pick some things up. And Mom and I have arranged for the funeral.”
“When will it be?”
“Thursday. The Medical Examiner’s office will release the body either this afternoon or tomorrow morning. I’ve been trying to reach my brother but he isn’t home, and Doris doesn’t know where he is.”
I had a pretty good idea but I didn’t say anything. Apparently Roger hadn’t let his mother know he had a cell phone. “I’m sure he’ll come home for dinner,” I said, biting my tongue. “Could we sit in the kitchen and talk for a moment?”
“Of course.”
I followed Winnie Platt and her daughter into a palatial kitchen. My friend Melanie would probably claim it for her own if she saw it. It looked like a cook’s dream. At one end was a round dark-stained oak table with matching chairs, and the three of us sat around it. “Mrs. Platt, I wanted to ask you about something my husband learned yesterday.”
She looked at me expectantly.
“The Medical Examiner looked at your husband’s body.” I didn’t want to be too graphic, but I was sure she understood what I was alluding to.
“I know that. I asked them not to, but in cases like this, it’s the law.”
“That’s right. And he discovered an old gunshot wound.” I stopped and let her absorb it.
“That’s not possible,” she said finally.
“My dad was never shot,” Toni said. “We would remember.”
“It was an old wound.”
“Well, the war,” Mrs. Platt said. “He was in the Pacific. I think I told you. He saw action. He never talked much about it but it’s possible he
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