Free Murder in the Library by Steve Demaree Page A

removed  a  key  from  his pocket, unlocked the door, and entered the
house. At least, that’s what it look like happened. Someone could have admitted
him, but I think he used a key. Just in case something’s missing, I wanted to
report him. I hope I’m not getting an innocent man in trouble.”
    “No, you did the right
thing. Would you recognize the man, if you saw him again?”
    “I doubt it. He didn’t
turn and look at me. He just went about his business and opened the door, just
like anyone else would. He didn't seem to be nervous. I wouldn't have thought
another thing about it if I hadn't looked out a few minutes ago and seen some
policemen heading to this house.”
    “Back to this man. What
about his age? Hair color? Type of clothes he wore?”
    “I’m sorry. I think he
had light brown hair, and my guess is he was a young man, but other than that,
I can’t say.”
    “And you didn’t see him
leave?”
    “No, I figured once he
used the key that meant he belonged here. I didn’t give it another thought
until I saw some officers heading to this house. I debated with myself on
whether or not I should report him. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t any of the men
who live here, so I decided to report it and let you do whatever you think is
best.”
    “You did the right
thing, Mr. Downey. I’ll let you know if we have any other questions. Oh, one
other thing. Did you see this man or any other stranger on the street about a
week ago or at any other time since?”
    “No. Normally this
street has very little activity. That’s one of the reasons I chose it when I
moved here a couple of years ago.”
    Again, I thanked Downey for his information, closed the door, and wondered where this fit in. Was there a
long-haired man, or was Downey our murderer and he had come forward to pass the
blame on to someone else before he became a suspect. Time would tell.
    The rest of the evening
passed with no new developments. Nothing out of the ordinary was found in an
upstairs search. I talked to each of the house’s residents and found no one who
acted guilty, but that didn’t surprise me. No one acted guilty when Lou and I
showed up for dinner, and a guilty person might’ve known why we were there
those two nights.
    When we’d finished going
over the house, we allowed everyone to go to his or her room before Frank
removed the body and everyone left the house. Lou and I were the last to leave.
It had grown dark by the time we left.
    For the third time that
day, we arrived at the Blue Moon late for a meal. Thelma, like Rosie before
her, was worried about us. We ate an uneventful meal and left. It was time to
rest. The next day there was more work to be done.

Chapter
Ten
     
     
    I saw no reason to
suppress the news, so the next morning all of Hilldale who read The Hilldale
Herald knew of the Colonel’s death. As I took a shower, I mulled over any
possible actions Lou and I might take. We could go back to the house. We could
canvass the neighborhood again to see if anyone other than Downey saw a
stranger in the neighborhood, or Lou and I could go over the Colonel’s Bible to
see what clues it held for us. I could do any of those, but first I took out my
notebook and called Sam Schumann, the best investigator in the business.
    “This is Sam I Am,
dining on green eggs and ham.”
    “Hasn’t that stuff
killed you yet?”
    “I was wondering the
same thing about that greasy spoon you and Lou call home. How are you this
morning, Cy? I read the paper. I think I know why you’re calling. It’s time for
me to go to work. Right?”
    “That’s why I’ve come to
you, Sam. You’re the best. If anyone can make our job easier, you’re the man.”
    “Okay. Shoot. Who do you
want me to check out?”
    “I hope you have a lot
of paper, Sam, because this may take a while.”
    “Ready when you’re, Red
Ryder.”
    “Start with those who
lived in the house with the Colonel. That’s his wife, his two granddaughters,
his