Free Puzzled to Death by Parnell Hall Page B

mystery books. No one runs around killing people like that in real life.”
    “Why not?”
    Chief Harper snorted. “Because nobody
thinks
like that. You’d have to have the most twisted brain imaginable just to come up with such a convoluted scheme.
I think I’ll kill my wife, stick her in the freezer, and go shoot pool
. Wonderful. Could we come back to planet earth?”
    “How about strangling her in the trunk of the car?”
    “How about it?” Chief Harper scoffed. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with? This is not some suave murderer here. This is Joey Vale, used to popping his wife one when she gets out of line. And don’t you darequote me on that. The point is, is there any way Joey Vale comes up with one of these schemes? No, he kills her and tells some clumsy lie, doesn’t stand up ten minutes when we start asking him questions.”
    “I thought his lawyer wouldn’t let him answer any questions.”
    “Yeah, but we had him a while before he asked for a lawyer. And his story isn’t the sophisticated alibi you lay out, it’s a moronic fabrication that wouldn’t stand up even if he
hadn’t
been seen breaking the lock on his kitchen door. Which is bad for him in one way, and good in another. Where it’s good is, when it turns out he has an alibi, it’s because he
has
an alibi. Not because he contrived to make it
look
like he had an alibi through some cockamamie scheme. You see what I mean?”
    “Your logic is a trifle convoluted. Still, I get the fundamental idea.”
    “Do you? Good. Then you see where I’m at. Joey Vale is innocent. Which means I’m back to square one without a clue who could have killed this woman.”
    “What did she look like?” Cora asked.
    Chief Harper blinked. “What?”
    “Well, this picture in the paper …” Cora dug into her purse, pulled out a copy of the
Bakerhaven Gazette
, and flipped it open. HOUSEWIFE MURDERED screamed from the front page. The photograph under the headline showed a young woman without a blemish, every hair in place, smiling for the camera. “Look at this picture of Judy Vale. She looks eighteen years old.”
    “She is,” Chief Harper said. “It’s a yearbook photo.”
    “Why?”
    “Her husband’s not cooperating, and the
Gazette
couldn’t get anything else.”
    “How old was she? When she died, I mean?”
    “Twenty-eight.”
    “You wouldn’t know it from this. Maybe I should see the body—”
    “No, you
shouldn’t
see the body,” Chief Harper snarled in exasperation. “I didn’t come here to facilitate your investigation. I came here to
stop
your investigation. I got a murder case to solve. I got this stupid tournament starting tomorrow, which I don’t like, but I don’t wanna call it off and make waves. I just want it run smoothly.” He stabbed a finger at Cora. “
That’s
your job. Keep everybody distracted, play down the murder, bring this puzzle event off without a hitch.”
    Cora Felton looked like she’d been told to gargle gasoline. “And what will
you
be doing while I’m doing this?”
    “I’ll be working on the murder case.”
    “Got any leads?”
    Chief Harper grimaced. “What I’ve been trying to impress on you is that’s not your concern.”
    “Gotta like the husband. I just showed you why you shouldn’t cross him off.”
    “I just told you why I should.”
    “He’s still your chief suspect,” Cora persisted. “Say he’s
not
bright enough to manufacture an alibi. Say he just
lucks
into it.”
    “All your theories involved sticking her into a refrigerator, or tying her up in a car trunk. You mind telling me how he
lucks
into that?”
    “He doesn’t luck into that. He lucks into doctor what’s-his-face blowing the autopsy. Which frankly wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”
    “How could he blow the time of death as much as that?”
    “Easy,” Cora replied, “if he’s basing it on body temperature. Your quack’s assuming her body temperature attime of death was ninety-eight