One Shot @ Retirement: A Macy Cooper Mystery, page 4
Turning to Macy, Tom asked, “Did you find out anything?”
“Not much. They think it was an accident, but they want to complete their investigation before making a final determination.”
“You mean it may be something other than an accident? Suicide, or murder?”
Macy shook her head. “Esther would never kill herself. She was too strong for that. And as for murder, who would ever hurt her? She was one of the gentlest people I’ve ever known. No, I think a heart attack, or an accidental death is the most likely cause.”
“I hope so,” said Tom. “That would be a lot easier for Jeremy to handle than the other possibilities.”
Macy agreed and knew it was time for her to leave the family to deal with the events of the day and the loss of a neighbor, a friend. “Gloria, thank you for the hot chocolate. I should be going. Let me know if you hear any more.” Macy rose to leave putting on her wet windbreaker.
“You do the same,” Gloria said, passively waving to Macy as she left.
Macy walked out onto the porch and surveyed the scene down the street. The paramedics’ vehicle had been replaced by a Coroner’s van. A police car and the detective’s car remained. The rain had slackened, and Macy looked around the neighborhood; everything else appeared to be the same. She shook her head. “If this is normal life, it sucks,” she grumbled and returned home.
Chapter Ten
“I’m coming,” Macy shouted after the doorbell had rung several times. She descended the stairs as fast as was humanly possible in order to get to the impatient caller. Why do they always have to come to the door when she was cleaning, she wondered, pulling off one of the rubber gloves and opening the door. “Detective Crow!”
“May I come in?” he asked, removing his hat.
“Yes, of course,” she replied. Macy escorted the detective into the living room while removing the other rubber glove, tossing them both onto the bottom step of the staircase. “Won’t you sit down?”
“Thank you,” he said, finding the comfortable leather chair. “I had some questions on the Esther Grant case.” He pulled out a pen and a small notebook from his inside jacket pocket.
Macy took a seat on the sofa opposite the detective. He was more attractive than she had remembered, perhaps because they were both now warm and dry. She couldn’t help but notice the .357 Magnum he carried at his waist under his jacket. “I’ll tell you what I can, but it might help if you could give me some details of what happened.”
Seeming to notice Macy’s interest in his gun, Crow pulled his jacket closed to cover it. “In time,” came the stern reply as he opened the notebook. “First, you said you’ve known Ms. Grant for three months?”
“Yes sir. I moved here in July and met her on one of my walks. She invited me for tea and after that we began meeting at her house about twice a week.”
“Where do you work?”
“I’m retired,” Macy stated firmly.
“Really? You look too young…” Crow’s eyebrows raised, and his jaw relaxed.
Macy smiled sweetly. “Thank you, but I’m older than you think, plus, I had a good retirement plan.”
Crow nodded, once more becoming serious. “We talked to Mrs. Grant’s granddaughter, Allison, and she said you’d been helping her grandmother around the house.”
Macy sat back. “Esther could still drive and care for herself, but her house was in need of some simple repairs and maintenance. I also enlisted the help of my neighbor, Gloria Andrews, from across the street and between the two of us and her son Jeremy we were able to get Esther’s house in good working order. We’d also get together each Wednesday for sort of a gab session and tell stories of our families or just plain gossip.” Macy smiled at remembering how Esther and Gloria could relate with such incredible detail the past history of some of their fellow neighbors, nothing dangerous, but terribly scandalous for a historic neighborhood in a small town.
“So, Mrs. Grant was not a strong woman?” His voice was deep and toneless.
“She was strong mentally. She had problems reaching for things… and climbing stairs.”
Crow smiled, seeming to understand. “Well then, that’s all I need.” He closed the notebook he had been writing in.
“That’s all?” Macy exclaimed incredulously.
“Yes, you’ve given me the information I needed to close the case.”
“What information did I give you?” she demanded, jolting forward.
Crow seemed taken aback. He stared at Macy, quizzically, and continued. “That she was not a physically strong woman.”
“She was 76, had arthritis and a heart condition; of course, she wasn’t strong!”
“Exactly, which fits with our investigation. Ms. Esther Grant had a heart attack and accidently fell down a flight of stairs.”
“Fell down the stairs?” Macy asked becoming more serious.
“Yes.”
“She never went up those stairs. She knew her limitations and refused to use them. That’s why she had her bedroom moved into the dining room.”
This explanation did not seem to affect the detective. “She must have gone up for some reason because the position of the body was in accordance with someone who had fallen. And the medical examiner found she’d had a heart attack.”
“Before or after the fall?” Macy asked.
“Inconclusive, but does it matter?”
“Yes!”
The detective looked curiously at Macy.
“If she had a heart attack prior to falling, then I would think that would have been the cause. But if she had the heart attack afterward, then I would not see this as an accident.” Macy saw the questioning expression on the detective’s face and continued. “She would not go up those stairs! I know she wouldn’t.”
“Well, there’s no sign of suicide or of foul play.”
“I think you give up too easily, Detective,” Macy said smartly.
“And what would you have me do?” he asked, apparently frustrated at having to explain himself.
“Investigate further. Tell me more about what you found or didn’t find.”
Crow sighed indignantly, his facial muscles tightening. “There was no sign of forced entry. There appeared to be nothing stolen although her desk was somewhat messy, but then so was her bedroom. We called her granddaughter about the untidiness, and she said Mrs. Grant was not the neatest housekeeper. Is that true?”
“Her house was clean, but the desk and her dresser were somewhat cluttered.” Macy could tell Crow was not used to being questioned, especially by a woman.
“Everything of value was still there, her jewelry, silver, and even some impressive rifles in a gun cabinet in the laundry room. Her car keys were on the kitchen counter. Is that where she normally left them?”
“Yes.”
“If there was foul play or robbery, nothing was taken. Everything was locked up nice and tight.”
“Everything?” Macy asked.
“Yes, the house, the car, even the gun case.”
“Detective Crow,” Macy began, “Esther never locked her car, never!”
Crow stared at her, then lowered his head and shook it back and forth. He took a deep breath. “Ms. Cooper, would you like to accompany me down to her house? Miss Grant said she had given you a key.”
“Yes, she did after your office replaced the lock.”
Crow nodded. “I think if you see that everything is as it should be, you might change your mind.”
“Very well.” After walking the short distance to Esther’s home, Macy unlocked the front door and they entered.
Macy peered down at the floor where Esther must have laid when she was found. Poor Jeremy, she thought, how distressing it must have been for him to see her there. She walked into the bedroom and saw the cluttered dresser; items were thrown about but not unlike what she had seen previously. Moving back into the hallway she crossed to the living room. The desk, too, was piled with bills, envelopes, and advertisements. Esther never threw anything away. “May I touch things?” she asked.
“Certainly, we’re done with our investigation.”
Frowning, Macy opened the center drawer of the desk. “It’s not here.”
Crow walked over to where she was standing. “What’s not there?”
“The key to the gun cabinet. Esther always kept it right here in the corner of the drawer.”
“The key is in the cabinet,” Crow said.
Macy walked back through the kitchen, surveying it carefully and noting that nothing was out of place. Crow continued to follow her. Once in the laundry room she stared at the gun cabinet with its key in the lock as the detective had said.
“See, everything secure, as I said.”
Macy thought for a moment trying to decide if she should continue the conversation. “Yes, but the M40 is missing.”
“A sniper rifle is missing? How do you know?”
“Esther’s son, the one in Afghanistan is… a sniper. Haven’t you talked to him? Esther said….”
“Ms. Cooper, we checked with the military. Mrs. Grant’s son was killed in Afghanistan a year ago.”
“What?” Macy stepped back, stunned. “But she….”
“Miss Allison Grant told my office he died with another from his team in an IED explosion. She said Esther refused to admit he was dead and so she continued to talk about him as though he were still over there. Maybe she was suffering from early dementia. I’m sorry….”
Macy leaned against the washer lowering her head. She felt as though she had just suffered another loss of a friend. Was it because he was Esther’s son and she had heard so many stories from Esther on the antics of a man who loved life and country? Or was it because he was a fellow sniper, and she always felt the loss of a colleague. “I didn’t know,” she said after a few moments.
“It happens,” commented Crow, “too often I’m afraid. That’s another reason we think Mrs. Grant’s death was an accident. As for the rifle, when was the last time you saw it?”
“About six weeks ago. I fixed Esther’s washing machine and I saw it then.”
“Perhaps you were mistaken as to the type of rifle it was. Most military rifles, especially sniper rifles I would imagine, are returned to the military when a serviceman returns home… or is killed. I doubt if the gun you saw was –”
Macy fought to control her anger. “I’m not mistaken, Detective,” she said sharply. “Even Esther knew what it was.”
“Then maybe she gave it to someone, her granddaughter or other relative, or even returned it to the military.”
Macy quickly composed herself, realizing she wasn’t going to gather much information from the detective. He was set on making this an accident. “What about the letters?”
“Letters?”
“Yes, they were from Sam, and her most prized possessions. She kept them in a box on the desk.” Macy moved quickly past Crow and back into the living room. The antique wooden box sat on the desk, just as Esther had left it. She hesitated on opening it then carefully moved the tiny latch to the side and lifted the lid. It was empty!
She turned to face the detective, anger in her eyes. “Where?” she asked firmly.
Crow shrugged. “Ms. Cooper, I don’t know what to tell you. But I can’t very well open an investigation because Mrs. Grant’s car was locked, or that she said she didn’t like to go upstairs, or for some missing letters.”
“And a missing gun…” added Macy.
“We don’t know it’s missing,” he replied, frowning.
Macy sensed he was becoming agitated. “I understand,” she finally said. “Bureaucrats,” she mumbled under her breath. They’re all the same, too busy to look at the big picture. How many times had she been delayed or nearly captured due to some politician unable to make up his or her mind as to whether she should complete her mission?
Crow seemed to realize her frustration. “I will check with Miss Grant and ask her about the gun and the letters.”
Macy nodded in agreement knowing full well he would come up with some excuse if the items were actually missing. “Is there anything else you need from me, Detective?”
“No, that will be all. Thank you for your cooperation and understanding.”
Several days later, Crow telephoned Macy. His voice was confident, and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Ms. Cooper, I wanted to let you know that I followed up with Miss Grant. She said she was unsure about the gun, that she wasn’t aware of her grandmother giving it to anyone. However, she does have the letters… said her grandmother sent them to her a week before the accident.”
Macy was silent, waiting for the axe to fall.
“Ms. Cooper, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here, Detective.”
“Well, ma’am, since the letters are accounted for, the only item missing is the gun. Seems to me, if someone were to rob the woman of her guns, they would have taken them all. No sense in stealing just one. Looked like there were a couple in the case worth a lot more than the ‘supposed’ military issue.”
Again silence.
“We’re closing the case, Ms. Cooper, and releasing the body for burial. If you should… have any questions, please feel free to call my office.”
“Thank you, Detective,” Macy said quietly and hung up the phone. “Fuck!”
Chapter Eleven
Esther’s funeral took place the first week of October. Gloria and her family attended and had invited Macy to ride with them, but she decided to go alone. She was convinced Esther’s death was more than a simple accident. She had asked herself several times whether she was overreacting but each time she came up with the same answer. She had only known Esther for a few months, but the elderly woman had impressed upon her she would never go up the steps and that was enough for Macy.
She entered the funeral home earlier than the scheduled service, through the employee’s side entrance. Making her way to the reposing room where a single mahogany coffin rested, Macy opened it gently. Esther lay there with a slight smile on her face, in a beautiful emerald-green pants suit, which highlighted her silver-gray hair.
Taking a deep breath, Macy paid her respects, closed the lid, and moved to another section of the funeral home where she could wait undetected. Moments later, funeral personnel retrieved the casket to move to a reception room.
Following and staying out of sight, she watched as people entered the large foyer and were ushered into the area where the body lay. A quiet hush of voices filled the room, no one speaking much louder than a whisper, as if trying to avoid waking the deceased.
Finally, Macy joined them and introduced herself to Esther’s granddaughter, Allison, a young woman of 18 whom Macy recognized from the many photos Esther had shown her. “I’m Macy Cooper, one of your grandmother’s neighbors. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Allison, with auburn hair and green eyes that sparkled, studied Macy for a moment and extended her hand taking Macy’s hand in hers. “Pleased to meet you,” she said excitedly. “I can’t tell you how happy you made my Grammy! She would go on and on about you each time I called her.” Allison bent over to whisper in Macy’s ear, “Grammy said there’s a lot more to you than you let on.”
“She did, did she?” Macy replied, grinning.
“Uh-huh. She said you were intriguing, yes, I think that was the word she used. She said you had secrets, and she was going to find out what they were!”
Macy thought about it for a moment but realized that at this point it didn’t matter. “Well, I’m sorry she didn’t get the chance to find the answers she was seeking.”
Allison stepped back examining Macy up and down. “Yes, but maybe I’ll figure them out myself.”
“Really,” Macy challenged. “And what secrets do you possess?”
Allison let out a roar of laughter, bringing attention to them from other visitors. “I like you, Macy Cooper! I think we shall be friends.”
“I agree,” Macy replied, realizing Allison had her grandmother’s spirit and audacity.
A few hours later the funeral procession made its way to the Landen Cemetery. Macy chose to take a different route and parked about a hundred meters from where Esther was to be laid to rest. The day was clear, and trees dotted the deep blue sky with their autumn colors of gold, red and orange. Esther would have loved it.
Getting out of her vehicle, Macy remained at a distance, observing the line of cars, a limousine and the hearse, and the people exiting them. She surveyed the grounds looking for possible places where some unexpected observer could hide. She knew that in murder cases, the perpetrator might be either part of the funeral party or watching from close by.
Pulling a riflescope from her car, she began scanning the area, examining each of the guests carefully, moving from face-to-face matching them up with the people who were at the funeral home. Only two individuals were out of place, so Macy reached for her camera and began taking pictures. She would check later to see if the men were possibly from the mortuary or cemetery.
Zooming in with her camera, she made mental notes. Two men, one of whom was below average height, about 5’ 8” and 140 pounds, dark hair, no facial hair, but wearing sunglasses. The second man was tall and thin, at least 6’1” and probably no more than 160 pounds. He was slightly balding and had a mustache. Macy took multiple pictures and upon hearing a rustling of leaves about 20 meters to her right, returned the camera to her vehicle. She could feel someone approaching and looking around saw Detective Crow walking leisurely towards her. His top coat was unbuttoned and flapped open as he walked revealing a dark suit and tie, appropriate attire for a funeral.
“Ms. Cooper, why aren’t you with the funeral party?” he chortled.
“I thought I would observe,” she replied. “And why are you here, Detective?’
“I’ll ask the questions,” he recoiled.
Macy smiled slightly. “You’ve asked very few questions up to this point. Are you reopening the case?”
