Free The Sudoku Puzzle Murders by Parnell Hall

There’s also a perfectly good chance he was sober. And a perfectly good chance he had nothing to do with the car or the antique shop.”
    “I don’t suppose you got a description of the car?”
    “That would be a correct assumption. Of course, this all took place after the murder, so it doesn’t really matter.”
    “You’re right,” Cora said, judiciously. “It certainly doesn’t.”

Chapter 17
    Mrs. Clemson wasn’t old for a widow. At least in Cora’s humble opinion. Cora’d never been a widow, always choosing to divest herself of her husbands while they were still alive. “Better an alimony in the hand than an inheritance in the bush” was Cora’s motto. And while there were some husbands she would have liked to kill, there were none she was willing to wait for to die.
    “A shame,” Cora said. “He sounds like a lovely man.”
    “He was,” Mrs. Clemson said. “And what a good provider. At the office every day, working longer and longer hours.”
    “What did he do?”
    “He was an office manager. For a Manhattan textile firm.”
    “You say he worked hard?”
    “Oh, yes. Even after he fell sick.”
    “What did he have?”
    “Respiratory arrest.”
    “How old was he?”
    “Thirty-nine. Can you believe it? Just thirty-nine.”

    Cora could believe it. A thirty-nine-year-old office manager who spent more and more time in the city, and who undoubtedly had a young secretary, was well within the scheme of her matrimonial expertise, and a prime candidate for domestic surveillance, and a messy but profitable divorce. The death of such a spouse was, in Cora’s humble opinion, serendipitous, if not opportunistic. Respiratory arrest, indeed! Her tea, which moments ago had tasted delicious, Cora eyed with suspicion.
    “Okay,” Cora said. “Let me walk you through this. You’re in bed. You hear the squeal of tires. You brace yourself for the crash.”
    “What crash?”
    “I know. There was no crash. But don’t you always brace yourself?”
    “I suppose.”
    “So you brace yourself for the crash. Which doesn’t come. That’s odd. You’re expecting a crash but you don’t get one. Why not? First thought, something in the road, driver swerved to miss it.”
    “Yes,” Mrs. Clemson said. “That’s what I thought. Someone ran out in the road.”
    “Who?”
    “What?”
    “Who would run out in the road? Are there children on the street?”
    “Not that time of night. The Crowleys have a dog. They’re not careful. Let it out alone.”
    Cora didn’t care about the Crowleys’ dog. Also, she sometimes let Buddy out alone, and didn’t like the implied reprimand. “When you got to the window you didn’t see anything?”
    “No. Not even the car.”
    “Except the one that was parked.”
    “Yes.”
    “What kind was it?”
    “I really didn’t notice.”
    Cora nodded. “So, it wasn’t a Volkswagen Beetle.”
    “Why do you say that?”

    “Well, that’s the type of car you’d notice. Distinctive shape, no way you could miss it.”
    “That’s right.”
    “And it couldn’t have been a sports car, either. You’d have noticed that.”
    “I guess I would.”
    “So we’re talking some sort of sedan. Not a Hummer, or an SUV. Not anything you’d be sure to notice. Just a nondescript, run-of-the-mill, everyday car.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “And the Japanese man you saw staggering up the street … ?”
    She frowned. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Who said he was Japanese?”
    “You didn’t say he was Japanese?”
    “No.”
    “I thought you said he was Japanese.”
    “I didn’t say he was Japanese. You said he was Japanese.”
    “So, you’re saying he wasn’t.”
    “No, of course not.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I’d have noticed. Just the way I’d have noticed if the car was a VW.”
    “Very good,” Cora said. That was the analogy she was going for. Nice of the woman to make the leap for her. “And this was a man, not a woman?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you think he was