“BOARD, page 14
At the same moment, Carrie said, “That’s a lovely offer, but it’s too much to ask. Can’t we just come for an evening visit?”
“Hey there, Hank,” the deputy chief said, “tell this woman how much my wife loves to cook. She used to do meals for our sons and their friends with less than an hour’s notice. And, honestly? She’s been preparing food for a pot luck at our church tomorrow night, and two huge containers of some good-smelling stuff are already in the basement refrigerator. What the four of us eat won’t be missed. I’ll knock on your door at 6:00. Casual dress.”
And he was gone.
HIDDEN IN SMOKE
Ray Duncan’s wife opened the door and immediately greeted Henry with a hug which–Carrie noticed–put her cheek at about the same place on Henry’s chest where her own would rest.
“Carrie McCrite, meet my wife, Rose Duncan,” Ray Duncan said.
Oh. Rose. Rose Duncan.
Rose wrapped Carrie in a warm hug, whispering in her ear at the same time, “I can see in a minute that you’ve put happiness back in his life. He sure looked peaked the last time I saw him.” Aloud, she said, “I thought we’d eat at our kitchen table, just like the old times. Everything is about ready. You guys go on in the family room while Carrie and I finish putting out the food.”
There wasn’t much to do. The meal was to be served buffet style, so Carrie took potato salad and cole slaw out of the refrigerator as instructed, and put them on the counter next to a plate of hamburger buns. Rose poured drinks, took the lid off a crock pot, and called the men.
The heavenly smelling mixture in the crock pot turned out to be “Mama’s recipe for saucy hamburger.” When Carrie commented on all the work Rose must have gone to, she said, “The secret to easy cooking is knowing how to use ordinary things to make something special. I’ll give you the recipe. You’ll see.”
After clean-up, Rose insisted Carrie and Henry tell her all about what brought them together, their wedding, how they got into work as amateur detectives, and the problem they were currently involved in.
“I’m sorry there’s trouble,” she said during a break for apple dumplings right before they left, “but the good thing is you two came to Kansas City and we got to enjoy a visit.”
* * *
As soon as they were back in their suite Carrie said, “I’m tired, but I’d like to unwind a bit before we turn out the lights. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not have TV chatter. I still have one mystery novel I haven’t read. How about you?”
“There’s the whirlpool,” Henry said. It’s big enough for two. Why don’t we try that out?”
So that’s what they did.
* * *
“FIRE! FIRE!”
The shouting awakened Henry, and he sat up in bed, listening.
“FIRE!” It was a male voice.
Instantly alert, he jumped out of bed, sniffed the air, then went to the window and saw smoke.
“Carrie!” He turned on a light and reached for the pants he’d hung over a chair the night before.
Behind him, Carrie mumbled “What?” then said, more sharply, “It’s three in the morning, Henry. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Put on your robe and shoes and grab your purse. I don’t know where, but someone is yelling ‘fire’ and I see smoke outside, though I don’t smell any in here yet. We’ll leave the building as quickly as we can, and find out what’s going on when we’re safely out. I hope someone called the fire department.”
The sound of sirens on the freeway almost drowned out his next words, “I wonder why none of the smoke alarms in the building went off?”
* * *
Carrie slid to the edge of the bed and tried to remember where her robe was. Fire? What had Henry said she should do first? Shoes? But, shouldn’t she put on a bra? Fire? Her head wasn’t working...maybe they could go out the window... her purse.... Dear God.
As soon as she was able to focus, getting ready took only a minute. She stood behind Henry as he felt the door handle, opened the door a crack, and sniffed. Then he took Carrie’s hand and pulled her into the hall. She moved beside him, only barely conscious that other people were in the hall, too. She saw no smoke, and smelled nothing warning of fire. Odd.
Before they got outside the siren noise stopped. It was replaced by motors rumbling in the street and men’s voices, shouting.
They walked out into clouds of smoke, and, for a while, the whole foggy world tumbled and swirled about her as people in various forms of hasty dress milled around the large courtyard, dodging firemen. Then bed and breakfast workers began herding their guests into a corner, counting heads as each individual or couple arrived. Finally the manager said, “All here, thank goodness, and all safe.”
Henry kept his arm around her and, though the inside of her head still felt smudgy, the smoke had begun to fade, and she recognized a famous music performer standing next to her. She ignored him–as did all the other people in their huddle–though billboards about his coming performance were displayed all over town. She figured no one here wanted to breach anyone else’s privacy. Thank goodness, no one asked for his autograph. Carrie choked off a giggle, and coughed instead.
Since the air was clearing and lights had been turned on everywhere, she could easily see firefighters leaving the building, some taking off their head gear. They were walking slowly, talking together and looking around. Well, they were calm enough, and by now she felt calm, too. She watched one firefighter walk along the side of the building, looking up at the walls and roof. Then he disappeared around a corner. She figured he wasn’t going to find fire anywhere back there. She never had smelled burning wood, and now there was no smoke either.
Another man, headgear still on, shoved past the group at the entry door and strutted toward the gate. She noticed he wore athletic shoes instead of boots. Well, all of the firefighters had undoubtedly been roused out of bed. This guy probably rushed to the fire truck and didn’t take time to pull on boots. He sure was in a hurry now–maybe he was going to call in and report there had been no fire. But... the smoke?
She snuggled closer to Henry, and noticed he was staring at something caught in a hedge against the courtyard wall about halfway toward the back. With his arm still around her, he began moving toward it. A kind of metal canister. Bomb!
She jerked backwards, dislodged Henry’s arm, and grabbed at the waistband of his pants instead, tugging at him with all her strength. She said “No, no.” Thank goodness he stopped moving and stepped back, murmuring “Stay close to me.” Taking her hand, he hurried toward one of the firefighters. “I think I know what caused the smoke,” he told the man, “and I’m guessing there is no fire. Right?”
The fireman shook his head and, when Henry led him to the metal thing, gave a low whistle. He called to a group of firefighters by the entry gate. That’s when Carrie heard the term, “smoke grenade,” and Henry got out his cell phone, speaking only a few words before he stuck it back in his pocket.
Feeling now like she was moving inside some weird dream, she let Henry hurry her back toward the building entrance just as rapidly as he had led her out earlier.
When he pushed their door open, all she could manage was a long, wailed, “Ohhh.”
She started in toward the horrible mess of dumped possessions, but Henry pulled her back, shut the door, and took out his cell phone again.
* * *
Henry rubbed a hand over his bristly chin. “They were smoke grenades.”
“Yep,” the officer said. “Maybe thrown over the wall?”
“Anyone admit to yelling ‘Fire’?”
“Nope. That cry from outside is what woke several folks up, including you.”
“No witnesses?”
“Not that we’ve found. We’ll interview along the street later this morning.”
“Any other rooms tossed, any signs they were entered?”
“Nope. Sure messed up these two rooms, though.”
“Right.”
The officer pointed to two large oriental vases lying on the floor. “They didn’t break anything, not even those vases. Just dumped out the green stuff.”
“Breaking vases would make a lot of noise. They couldn’t assume everyone had really left the building. And there were firefighters everywhere.”
“Firemen would have made a bunch of noise.”
“True.”
Henry, Carrie, and two police officers sat on folding chairs in the suite’s sitting room, contemplating the room’s contents.
“Where do smoke grenades, smoke bombs, whatever, come from?” Carrie asked.
Henry reached over to squeeze her hand. “Depends on the form. Military supply or surplus stores, paintball supply stores, construction supplies. They’re used mostly for concealment, but in construction they detect leaks in pipes and a few other things.”
“In other words, fairly easy to acquire.”
“Yes.”
“Are you folks sure nothing was stolen? I saw your laptop is still on the desk.”
“We’re pretty sure nothing is missing,” Henry said. “We’ve looked at the mess carefully several times. Can’t be positive until we pick things up.”
“Jewelry? Money?”
“I stuffed my watch and billfold in my pockets as we hurried out, and Carrie scooped her jewelry off the night stand into her purse, which she took with her. I left my pocket change, but it’s still there.”
Silence.
“The investigation team will be here soon.”
“I’d bet there won’t be any fingerprints but ours and the housekeeping staff’s.”
“Yeah. Probably not.”
“Whoever came in had a key.”
“Looks like.”
“Those aren’t easy to come by.”
“Right.”
Silence. The younger officer got up and went to the window, looking out into the early light. She didn’t touch anything.
The senior officer cleared his throat. “So, uh, you were with the department a long time?”
“Thirty-five years.”
“Don’t know if I’ll make it that long.”
“Here’s the team,” the officer at the window said. “I guess they’re giving this top priority. Deputy Chief Duncan is with them.”
* * *
“What do you have that somebody wants bad enough to go to all this trouble?” Ray Duncan asked–for about the fifth time that morning.
By now Henry knew no answer was expected, but he said, “Whatever it is, I’m sure we don’t have it. And,” he added as an afterthought, “we didn’t before they came, either. Neither of us can find anything missing.”
“What about Carrie’s jewelry? I know you said it was in her purse, but they wouldn’t have known she had it with her when she left the building.”
“I heard that,” Carrie said from the bedroom, “I do own a few good pieces, but leave them in my safe deposit box most of the time. What I have with me is costume jewelry.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll tell Rose. She loved the green necklace you had on last night, and it looked pretty grand to me, too.”
“Thank you, but I only paid $50.00 for it. Nice for costume jewelry, but not worth all that trouble to steal.”
The men were sprawled in two of the suite’s comfortable sitting room chairs. They, and Carrie, were the only ones remaining after a morning of police activity.
Following a thorough inspection by the forensics team, Henry and the uniformed cops had lifted mattresses onto beds, slid drawers into place, and returned cushions to chairs. Now Carrie was collecting scattered possessions, deciding what clothing needed to be washed, and re-folding the rest into drawers so the housekeeping staff could come in, remake the beds, and clean the room.
“You’re sure there was nothing of possible interest on your computer?”
“It’s still here,” Carrie said, “and it’s certainly portable. What’s more, you could easily hide it under a fireman’s coat.”
“So you think one of the firefighters did this?”
“Well, any of them would have had easy access,” Henry said, “at least assuming they had access to a key card, and I suppose they had to check the rooms for a fire source.”
“Yes, that’s true. So, how about any CD’s, flash drives?”
“Nothing missing.”
“Anything they might have wanted to download?”
“Nothing of interest there. You saw the contents–a few collected e-mails, e-mail addresses of family and friends, some church information.”
“No records of street addresses?”
“No, and only partial names for those whose e-mails we had a record of.”
The deputy chief stood. “Well, we’ll see if that dried bit of mud they collected tells us anything. Otherwise....”
Henry asked, “You said Gordon Hawkins was to be here later today?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you think we should be present when you interview him? We watched his conversation with Sgt. Burke in Van Buren, and I’m pretty sure he knows that. I saw his car as we left the police station that afternoon, so he hung around to check on us. Having us present and visible during your interview might keep him from throwing at least some of his bull… oney at you. He acted pretty prickly while Burke was questioning him, and stopped answering questions when Burke caught him in a lie.”
“Being at that interview isn’t going to increase your safety, my friend.”
“You think we should worry about that now? Heck, Ray, someone got into our room this morning. They had a key. Couldn’t get much closer than that. I think if they’d meant to harm us they could have managed it easily. So, a concern for our safety is off the table.”
“Whatever you say, buddy.” The deputy chief sighed. “Okay. Hawkins is scheduled at 3:00. A car will pick you up around 2:00. In the meantime, get some rest.”
As soon as the room door shut, Carrie said, “Sleepy?”
“No. And after that huge breakfast and all the coffee the folks here brought us, I’m what I think is called ‘wired’ in today’s language. I couldn’t sleep. How about you?”
“Same. And remember, we did tell Anderson and Wooten we’d come to the museum today, and that I wanted to talk with Danielle. I know the police interviewed her yesterday, but it didn’t sound like they got much information. Maybe if I had a friendly conversation with her...? I’m pretty good at getting other women to talk to me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Would your officer friends think we were messing things up?”
He pursed his lips. “I thought you said we needed to do laundry.”
“Later. We’ve got a few clean clothes.”
Henry looked at his watch. “Well, our museum tour was interrupted, you might say. And if we happen to get into friendly chat with Danielle....”
“If I happen to get into a friendly chat with her. Okay, I’ll find something for us to wear while you shave. Whoever finishes dressing first calls a taxi.”
He saluted. “Got it, Officer McCrite.”
Giggling, she headed for the closet.
DANIELLE
When they walked into the museum gift shop, Danielle was at the counter talking to a customer. She glanced up long enough to see them, and Carrie smiled and waved as if greeting a long-time friend. Leaving Henry to look at books, she began browsing through the shelves of souvenirs, finally picking up a mug with a steamboat picture on it and taking it to the counter.
As she handed the mug to Danielle, she said, “It’s nice to see you again. I’d like to buy six of these mugs as gifts for friends. Do you have plenty? I’d rather wait until after we finish the museum tour that was interrupted yesterday to pick them up. I’ll get another button card and one of those pins made from the buttons too.”
Danielle’s tone was frosty. “I’ll put them aside for you. Norton told me you’d probably be coming back and I should give you a card of buttons so I won’t charge you for that.”
As Danielle swiped her credit card, Carrie said, “The manager said it was okay with him if I invited you to join me for a break. I’d like to continue our talk.”
Carrie looked around to see if Henry had heard her, and thought, Well, that’s just a friendlier way of saying I’d like to question you about this Graham business.
Her husband was still in the book section, reading, but he glanced up, smiled and nodded, then selected another book. When she turned back toward the counter, Danielle was chewing her lip, frowning. She said, “Norton said you wanted to talk with me. Why? I’ve got nothing more to say about Graham.”
“Well then, we can talk about anything you like. But I’ll admit the story of Gordon and Graham in Van Buren intrigues me. Why Graham got your husband to impersonate him is a mystery to me. Maybe it is to you, too.”
Carrie looked around to see if any customers were nearby. For the moment, she and Henry were the only people in the shop, so she went on.
“Danielle, I want you to know Henry and I didn’t choose to be involved in your husband’s life or your’s. It only happened because I found Graham’s body on the riverbank. The police came and questioned us of course, that’s how it began. The most interesting part was when we saw the AETN program filmed on the train the day both Graham and Gordon rode it. We noticed the obvious change from one man to another during that show. You’ve got to admit it creates a puzzle. So we told the police about it. We didn’t mean to make trouble for you or your husband, and I am sorry if we did. If you don’t want to talk about any of it now, that’s okay. We can just sit and chat about other things while we have a snack–my treat of course.”
Danielle smiled, a cat-like grin and said, “Why not?” She called to the second clerk. “Kinley, I need to talk with this lady, and the boss said it was okay. She’s a special friend of his. We’re going to get a Coke, would you mind taking over?”
After a long, curious look at Carrie, then a nod toward Danielle, Kinley said “Sure thing,” and Carrie led the way to a table in a corner of the snack bar area behind the gift shop.
“What would you like?”
“A diet Coke, Mrs... King.”
