NYPD Puzzle by Parnell Hall Page A

said Ratface.”
    “I did not say Ratface.”
    “You said the prosecutor. I asked what did you tell him about me and the town clerk and you said he didn’t ask you. Who asked you about me and the town clerk?”
    “Well, that officer.”
    “What officer?”
    “You know. From New York.”
    “Sergeant Crowley of the NYPD?” Cora said accusingly. “You called the New York City police department and told them their murder suspect was involved in another murder up here?”
    “I didn’t call him, he called me.”
    “Yeah, sure.”
    “He’s worried about you. He said you were being followed.”
    “So you called Dan Finley and he drove over to our house and scared Sherry silly. So what?”
    “He called this morning to ask if there had been any progress.”
    “And you said no one’s trying to kill her, but she’s involved in killing someone else?”
    “That’s not how I phrased it.”
    “How did you phrase it?”
    “I had to tell him I had my own crime to deal with.”
    “And he asked you if I did it?”
    “Of course not. He doesn’t think you’re a killer.”
    “What was his direct question?”
    “He asked if you had anything to do with it.”
    “That’s a paraphrase, Chief. What did the guy say ?”
    Harper took a breath. “‘Is that crazy lady involved in yours too?’”
    “Nice. So that’s the direct question you were referring to.”
    “I assured him you had nothing to do with it.”
    “You told him that nutty old bag is innocent?”
    “Cora.”
    “And he asked you if I had any relation with the decedent, and you told him I nearly ripped her face off just last week. I’m surprised he hasn’t come looking for me. Oh, that’s right. It’s out of his jurisdiction. What’s the law here, if he wants to haul me in? Would he have to get me extradited?”
    “You’re making too much of this.”
    “You trot me out as a murder suspect and I’m making too much of it?”
    “No one thinks you’re a murder suspect.”
    “Do you have any theories about this crime that don’t involve me?” Cora said sarcastically.
    “Do you?”
    That caught Cora up short. “Chief, I don’t have any theories about this crime at all. The only thing that makes sense is that it’s connected to the break-in, and if you have any idea how, you’re way ahead of me. It’s kind of like playing a game of no-limit poker with no rules, no time limit, no boundaries, and no purpose. Nothing makes any sense.”
    “You expect me to disagree?”
    “No, but you’re the chief of police running the investigation. I expect you know something.”
    “Can you suggest anything I’m not doing?” Chief Harper said through gritted teeth.
    “I don’t know. What are you doing?”
    “Sam Brogan’s searching the victim’s house. Dan Finley’s searching her office.”
    “For what?”
    “If we knew, we wouldn’t have to look.”
    “How about the murder weapon?”
    “We’re not even sure what it is. I mean we say lead pipe, but it could be any similar object from a baseball bat to a tire iron.”
    “Great.”
    “All that CSI crap made popular by television’s being done, from searching for skin samples under the fingernails in case she managed to claw her assailant, to analyzing the hairs on her clothes to make sure they’re all hers, but just between you and me, I do not expect a solution within sixty minutes including commercials.”
    “And you’re questioning—?”
    “My own judgment. I have a feeling nothing I’m doing is worth the time.”
    “No, I mean who.”
    “Besides you? The victim’s friends. Turns out she didn’t have many. Unmarried, lived alone, even her next-door neighbors didn’t know her well. Her coworkers didn’t like her—go figure—and no one hung out with her. Her parents are deceased, she’s got a brother in Oregon who’s not rushing to claim the body. She died intestate, not that there’s any money anyway, her house was a rental, she didn’t seem to own anything