NYPD Puzzle by Parnell Hall Page B

valuable.”
    “So why kill her?”
    “Why indeed. It’s gotta come back to the break-in, but I can’t figure out how. Unless…”
    “Unless what?”
    “Unless it has something to do with the murder in New York.”
    “How could it?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “Did you suggest this theory to Sergeant Crowley?”
    “He suggested it to me.”
    Cora’s eyes blazed. “Oh, did he, now?”

 
    Chapter
    20
     
    Sergeant Crowley settled back in his desk chair, cocked his head. “I don’t see what you’re so upset about.”
    “Oh, really?” Cora said. “You ring up the police chief in my town and, based on no information whatsoever, suggest I might be involved in his murder.”
    “That’s not exactly what I said.”
    “No, I believe the direct quote was ‘Is that crazy lady involved in yours, too?’”
    “Oh, that.”
    “Oh, that? Did you really say ‘Oh, that’?”
    “It’s not like I said you were the perpetrator.”
    “Well, allow me to commend you on your admirable restraint. How’d you like to be hauled into the police chief’s office and asked to explain your nonexistent connection to two murders?”
    “Is that what happened?”
    “Actually, I wasn’t hauled in, I went of my own accord. Because I wanted to find out if the police had a lead on the murder. I didn’t expect it to be me.”
    “What’s your point?”
    “You suggested it.”
    “Because it’s there. You can’t fault me for saying something that’s true. You’re like a defense attorney gets all huffy when I call his client armed just ’cause the creep’s carrying a gun.”
    “But he’s fine with you calling him a creep?”
    “Did you just come in here to bawl me out?”
    “Well, it is fun,” Cora said, “but I was hoping you would have something to contribute.”
    “With regard to your crime? I don’t know anything about it.”
    “And yet you accuse me of it to the chief.”
    “I thought you were done griping about that.”
    “Whatever gave you that idea?”
    “Well, could you get over it? I happen to have work to do.”
    “Fine,” Cora said. “Forget the Connecticut crime. Let’s talk NYPD. How you coming with the murder case here?”
    “The department frowns on discussing ongoing investigations with murder suspects.”
    “Right. I’m apt to take something you say out of context, and my clever attorney will use it to beat the rap. And if you think that is a possibility even remotely worth considering, then I despair of you ever solving this crime.”
    “I’m not too hopeful myself,” Crowley said.
    Cora stared at him. “What?”
    “Evidence is not piling up for me. Usually, you dig into a guy’s background, you learn a lot. That is not the case with the late Charles Kessington.”
    “Oh?”
    “The decedent is one of the least interesting people who ever lived. No profession, no skills, and no job. The only thing he had was money, and the only thing he did to get it was have parents who died young. He never married, didn’t have a girlfriend, or any close friends at all. He had no hobbies or outside interests that might have thrown him among people. Apparently, his wildest outings were going to the movies or the theater alone. He went to NYU, dropped out when his parents died. Apparently they were the only thing keeping him there.”
    “How much money did he have?”
    “Millions. I don’t know how many millions, but I understand it’s less than a billion. On the other hand, when you say ‘less than a billion,’ you’re talking about an awful lot of money.”
    “And that’s not a motive right there. Who inherits, for Christ’s sake?”
    “He has no heirs. No close relations. No valued friends. His money goes to charity.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “No. So unless I wanna pin this crime on the American Cancer Society, I’m out of luck.”
    “He left it all to them?”
    “Yes, he did. In a will drawn up by the same lawyer who drew up his parents’ wills, who, as you can probably