A/N: This was an episode in our virtual fourth season and harks back to one of my favorite episodes, "Hardcastle, Hardcastle, Hardcastle, and McCormick", in which we first meet the judge's aunts.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN
by
Owlcroft
ACT I:
Light breezes blew through the trees, bearing the scent of the ocean, and gulls wheeled and curvetted through the bright blue sky. It was a perfect day at Gull's Way, just right for lazing away the afternoon by the pool.
Hardcastle turned around and looked at the door to the kitchen. "Where's that tea?" he grumbled.
"I'm sure Mark's doing his best, Milton. Besides," dimpled Aunt Zora, "it's nice to just sit here and enjoy the sunshine and chat with you."
The judge's other aunt nodded emphatically. "We're getting just a tad too old for all that travelling, you know, Milton. At our age, we tend to take things a little slower than we used to."
The screen door slammed and McCormick appeared, carrying a large tray loaded with glasses and paraphernalia.
"Here we go," he said cheerily, setting the tray carefully on the patio table. He set a lowball glass in front of each of his adopted aunts, then added paper napkins and small plates. "And some nice tea for you, Judge." He passed over a tall glass with a different colored liquid in it to the older man. "And some of those little cookies you like and some crackers and cheese. We figured you wouldn't want to bake your first day here," he explained, grinning at the women.
The judge frowned. "Whadda they got? It isn't tea."
May sipped at her glass and sighed appreciatively. "That hits the spot. Thank you, dear, for remembering." She beamed at Mark and took another sip.
"Ah, yes." Zora closed her eyes and smiled after her first sip. "This is the good stuff, isn't it, Mark? You're such a thoughtful young man."
Hardcastle reached out and took his Aunt May's glass from her, sniffed at it and shot a fierce glance at McCormick. "That's my good bourbon!"
"And I'm sure you don't mind your aunts having it, do you?" Mark's smile was urbane as he passed out cookies.
There was a muted growl heard from the judge, but it quickly subsided at a questioning look from Zora.
"So, you're here for some kind of club get-together. A mystery club?" McCormick helped himself to a few cookies, but remained standing.
Zora nodded and set down her glass. "Yes, dear. It's our L.A.D.I.E.S. club."
"Ladies' club? I thought they baked muffins and knitted socks." Mark sampled a cookie, considered for a moment, then added two more to his handful.
"The Ladies' Amateur Detectives, Investigators and Examiners Society, Mark. We've been members for years and years." May reached for her handbag. "I've got our invitations right here if you want to see them."
Zora took up the tale. "Every year one of the chapters hosts a murder and as many of the members as possible attend that location and try to solve it. We also have monthly newsletters and a Postcard Puzzle."
The two men looked at each other, but it was the judge who spoke. "Postcard puzzle? What's that?"
"It's a year-long contest. Starting in January, we get a postcard once a month with clues on it about some particular crime," May paused to pass her invitation to McCormick, "and the member who solves it first wins a prize."
"May won last year, in June," said Zora proudly. "It was the fastest anyone had ever solved a Postcard Puzzle."
"So, your club meeting downtown is to solve some kinda fake murder?" Hardcastle set down his glass and reached for a cookie. "I mighta known. But listen, don't be dragging him -" he jabbed a thumb at Mark, "into any of these shenanigans. He's got finals coming up in about a coupla weeks."
The aunts both nodded vigorously. "We know, Milton," said May. "And we've already planned out dinner tonight to help."
May reached out and patted Mark's non-cookie-holding hand. "Fish is brain food and we're fixing a nice Sole Amandine. We thought maybe lobster or crab tomorrow. Not that you need any help, Mark dear."
"Thanks, Aunt May, but I think I need all the help I can get." McCormick smiled at her. "In fact, I gotta go hit the books right now." He leaned down and gave May a light kiss on the cheek. "But I'm glad you're here." He then repeated the gesture with Zora before heading off toward the gatehouse, cookies in hand.
Hardcastle sat in thought then looked up hopefully. "He needs protein, too, you know – for stamina. Those finals are rough. Maybe we oughtta have some steaks or pork chops tomorrow."
Zora nodded. "A nice pot roast, with green beans maybe."
"And a shrimp cocktail before," added May triumphantly.
The judge gave up with a shrug. "Okay, fine. If you cook, you get to pick. But," he waved a finger at them seriously, "he's gonna be busy, so I'll take you wherever you need to go."
ooooo
McCormick carefully helped Aunt May out of the truck, then extended a hand to Zora. "Watch your step here."
"Thank you, dear. That little step is much better than the wooden box we had before." Zora straightened herself and looked up at the ornate face of the Empress Hotel before them. "Well, it certainly is imposing." They all stared up at the six-story hotel, ornamented with balconies, flags, even some gargoyles.
May was studying a sheet of paper in her hand. "It says we're supposed to meet in the lobby for orientation. We'll be handed our clues and itinerary."
"Well, I'd like to take a look around. There's no harm in scoping out the territory first, is there?" Zora twinkled up at McCormick. "We'll be fine, dear. You go on to the library. After all, that's what you told Milton you were going to do."
Mark grinned back her. "I really do need to check some things at the downtown law library. I'll be back in … what, four hours, you said?"
May nodded at him, then started off to the side of the hotel. "They're going to give us lunch at noon. Come on, Zora. Let's get a head start on The Black Tulip Murder!"
ooooo
The alley was narrow, dark, and cool. There was no conspicuous garbage lying around, but the blue Los Angeles sky seemed very far off as the aunts picked their way cautiously along.
"Isn't that Margaret Lessingham?" Zora peered ahead down the alley. She waved tentatively, then shook her head. "She must not have seen me."
"Mmm, what?" May looked up from her careful note-making. "Who, where?"
Zora gestured down the darkened alley running alongside the hotel. "I thought I saw Margaret Lessingham up there, but she had her back to us. But I'm almost certain it was her."
May went back to her sheet of paper. "I wouldn't be surprised if she'd had the same notion we did. She's won the Postcard Puzzle twice now, so she's probably doing the same groundwork we are. Where does this alley lead, to the rear entrance?"
"I think so," answered Zora, making her way carefully along. "You'll notice there aren't any windows on this side of the hotel. No escape routes."
"Yes, and very little lighting. Makes it difficult to find clues." May wrote another short note, then started to search in her capacious handbag. "Now where is that flashlight?"
The sudden sound of an angry voice brought both women's attentions to the corner at the end of the alley. They looked at each other, and without a word, crept closer to the corner. One voice was a nearly continuous mutter, but the other suddenly rose and the words became discernible.
"I'm sorry!" a male voice shouted. "It's going to be done and there's nothing you can say or do to change my mind!"
A silence fell and the aunts sidled, against the hotel wall, even closer to the corner.
The quiet voice murmured briefly, then May and Zora heard the loud voice gasp.
"No! You can't!" it was a combination of fright and pleading.
Then they heard a shot, immediately followed by a loud thud and footsteps fading away.
The aunts looked at each other and May said in a worried tone, "Is this the beginning of the mystery, or . . .?"
Zora took a deep breath and replied, "I think we'd better look," and peered around the corner.
May peeped over her shoulder and her mouth opened in surprise. "That looks like real blood!"
The body of a man in a dark suit lay supine on the ground in front of the steps leading up to the back door of the hotel. A pool of blood from a wound in the chest spread quickly.
"Oh, dear," said Zora.
"Oh, my," said May.
ACT II:
"Where'd my aunts go?" asked the judge, looking into dark corners and behind trash cans.
Lieutenant Harper rubbed the top of his head moodily. "I had Sergeant Roth take 'em inside. Figured they'd be more comfortable there."
McCormick grinned at him. "They were really getting in the way, huh?"
Frank sighed and nodded. "Yeah, a little. Milt, I told Roth to find a comfortable place and to keep an eye on 'em. But at this point, I need to find out exactly what they saw. You wanna come along and help out?"
"Sure." Hardcastle stepped to the nearest door, the metal door that opened into the alley. "This where they said the guy came out?"
"Mm-hmm. It's already been gone over and I want to check out where it leads to." Frank led the way through the door and into a large room with shelves covered in various linens. "Towels? Sheets? Must be where the truck pulls up with the laundry. Phillips," he turned back through the door to call to a uniformed officer. "Find out the laundry schedule, will you?"
"You know who has keys to this place yet?" Mark scrutinized the door lock, then strolled over to the open door leading to a hallway to do the same with that lock.
Frank ducked his head in a semi-affirmative motion. "Sounds so far like the manager, the victim out there, had keys to everything. Helps us in a way, because he seemed to be real careful about that, 'specially with the doors leading to the outside. Mark, you see anything there?"
McCormick shook his head and straightened up from his crouch. "Nah. They both look okay, but that could just mean they were picked by an expert."
"Hmph. Figures." Frank strode off into the hallway and turned right.
The judge cocked an eyebrow at Mark, and they both followed, around a corner and into the hotel lobby. Behind a long mahogany counter stood a tall, slightly-built man with thinning hair and a ramrod posture. Frank approached him, flashing his ID.
"You in charge here for now?" Harper returned his badge to his pocket and glanced at the plaque on the counter. "Mr. Henley?"
The tall man cleared his throat, stood even straighter and nodded sharply. "I am Albert Henley, Assistant Manager of this establishment. And I am pleased to see the police in my new capacity of Acting Manager, manager pro tem as it were. I can assure you, Lieutenant, that there will be changes here at the Empress Hotel – changes that are long overdue. A solid financial footing, that's the ticket. A new approach, a wider clientèle -"
Mark nudged Hardcastle, who muttered, "That's snooty for customers," at him.
"A more fashionable offering of menu and décor," continued the manager pro tem. He spread his hands, gesturing at the lobby. "Tradition, but elegance; hospitality with grace and class. It is not impossible to achieve, I assure you."
Frank held up a hand. "I'm sure you're right. But right at this moment, I need to get into the victim's – Mr. Howard's – office. Can you let me in and can you tell me where Sergeant Roth went to?"
Henley sniffed disparagingly. "It is not a thing to which we are accustomed, having the police here, I assure you. But I sent Sergeant Roth and his charges to the manager's office. Miss Poole, Mr. Howard's personal secretary, has the keys and will admit you." He fingered his tie briefly, then stood once more at attention. "Style, class, a certain ambiance. You will see changes, sir. Great changes, and very soon, I assure you."
"That's swell. Terrific," muttered Frank with a wave of the hand as he walked away. "I assure you."
Around another corner, past a Grecian column, was the manager's office, behind a door clearly labelled Manager. Inside they found a moderately attractive thirty-ish woman behind a desk, mopping at her eyes and sniffing. The plaque on her desk read, "Anne Poole, Manager's Secretary".
"Miss Poole?" Harper once again showed his badge. "I'm Lieutenant Harper and I'm looking for Sergeant Roth and two older ladies. I think they went into the manager's office." He pushed a thumb toward the door behind her desk. "But I need to talk to you for a bit if you're up to it."
Miss Poole nodded, sniffed once more and pulled herself upright. "Yes, the sergeant brought two elderly women here. Then he left them inside while he went for some tea."
The judge groaned, Mark smacked himself in the forehead, and Frank rolled his eyes to the heavens. "He left them alone in there? Milt, come on. Miss Poole, I'll be out in just a minute to speak to you."
Harper pushed the door open, the other two right behind him, to find the aunts poring over various materials on the manager's desk.
"Oh, good, Milton," said Zora, looking up. "I want you to look at these financial statements. There's some funny business going on here."
"Ladies, ladies," said Harper, holding up his hands palms out. "You're witnesses in this case. You can't be interfering with possible evidence."
May looked at him with patent disbelief. "But we're not interfering, Lieutenant. We're investigating."
Hardcastle took her by the arm and led her to a chair. "Now, you know you can't be doing that, either. Just sit here for a while and let us do our jobs, okay?"
"But, Milton," Zora gave the judge a stern look, "it's not exactly your job then, either, is it? Yet here you are -" she spread her hands and gestured at the three men, "all working together. So, we're going to be working with you, that's all."
Mark grinned at the older man. "She does have a point, Judge."
Harper's shoulders slumped and he cast another glance at the heavens. "Just tell me exactly what you touched and tell me where the . . . the dickens is Sergeant Roth."
"Why, he very kindly offered to get us some tea." May looked surprised to find that Harper didn't automatically realize that.
"I'll bet one of you suggested it, then started to comb through the place, didn't you?" Hardcastle placed himself beside Zora and began to look through the financial statements.
Zora pointed out three specific items while saying, "We might have mentioned that we normally have a cup of something about this time of day, but I won't have you scold him, Lieutenant." She gave Harper a minatory glance.
"You know, Frank, they're right about this. There's some kinda monkey business with the books alright. Come over here." The judge ran a ruminative thumb over his nose. "Check these expenditures and then look at those deposits."
May spoke up from her chair, where she'd been casually thumbing through the manager's appointment book, palmed while everyone else's attention was on Zora's pronouncement. "And I think that nice secretary knows something. I wouldn't be a bit surprised to hear that the victim was indulging in a bit of hanky-panky and she's aware of it. After all," she held up the appointment book, "she does handle his schedule, she told us that, and every Tuesday night, there's an entry for 'Lois' here".
"I'll go talk to her," offered Mark before Frank could lose his temper completely. "Let me take that, okay, Aunt May?"
She handed over the appointment book and McCormick handled it carefully before taking it to the outer office, where he wrapped it in a handkerchief.
Anne Poole looked up at him. "Is that Mr. Howard's book?" she snuffled. "He was such a wonderful man. Who could have done this horrible thing?"
"Well, we're doing our best to find out," McCormick reassured her. "Can I ask you about a regular 'date' he seems to have had every Tuesday night. It's listed as 'Lois'?"
"Oh, yes," one final sniff, then a watery smile. "That's his weekly bowling date. At Lois Lanes. What a cute name, don't you think?"
"Ah. Lois Lanes, right. I get it, very funny. Bowling. Superman, Lois Lane." Mark looked a bit disappointed, so Miss Poole hastened to fill him in.
"Mr. Howard was an extremely attractive man. He could have had any number of affairs, but he was very happily married. For fourteen years next month." Miss Poole shook her head sadly. "He was a special person, you know. Charming and intelligent and hard-working. His wife will be devastated by this. She just adored him. All of us did."
McCormick thanked her, then turned suddenly at a knock on the door to the corridor. He opened the door to find Sergeant Roth with a tray holding two steaming cups of tea.
"Mark! Thanks. Oh," suddenly Roth looked apprehensive. "Harper's in there, huh? Um, hey, can you take this in to Hardcastle's aunts? I really ought to get back to the body. The van'll be there any minute to take it away. Oh, sorry, ma'am," at a muffled wail from Miss Poole.
McCormick shrugged, smiled, and took the tray. "You owe me one, y'know."
As Roth left, the judge appeared in the doorway. "Oh. Tea. Hey, listen, Frank wants to get the aunts downtown to make their statements. And," he added sotto voce, "to get 'em away from here before they investigate any more. Can you drive 'em over there and we'll meet up with you in a bit?"
"Sure." Mark set the tray down on the secretary's desk, whereupon Miss Poole snatched a a paper napkin to supplement her dwindling supply of tissues. "We'll get the statements going and then Frank can talk to them when he's done here."
The judge turned to corral his aunts, then twisted his head over his shoulder to add, "And for Pete's sake, keep 'em out of any more trouble, okay?"
ooooo
"So I talked to the widow Howard," said Harper. He looked at the plate of brownies, then sternly made himself look away again.
Zora proffered the plate to the lieutenant again. "Was that the tall blonde in the hallway? We saw her out there and thought she looked truly stricken. Are you considering her a suspect?"
The lieutenant sighed and glanced meaningfully at the judge, who avoided his gaze. "I can't talk about stuff like that with you ladies. You know that."
"Oh, yes, of course. And we so appreciate you waiting for us while we went back to Malibu for the brownies." May smiled benignly at Frank. "We'd really appreciate seeing your evidence room."
"And perhaps the morgue?" added Zora with a hopeful look. "We'd love to have a chat with your medical examiner, too. I've had an idea about a mosquito who bites a murderer and the detective swats it so the M.E. can use that new procedure – DNA testing – to determine the murderer." She dimpled winsomely at Harper. "But an expert's opinions would be so helpful."
"Uh, well, I don't know about that DNA staff," Frank hesitated then went on, "but Mark, why don't you find Sergeant McElroy and tell him I said to give these ladies the grand tour?"
On her way to the door, Zora elbowed the judge gently. "It really does pay to have a 'friend in the business', Milton."
Hardcastle grunted, then shot a look at McCormick as he left. "You keep them outta trouble, you hear? And look up Grover v. South Dakota for the constitutional law section."
"Studying for finals? When are they?" Frank offered the plate to Hardcastle as Mark pulled the door to the office closed.
He shook his head and patted his stomach, saying, "No, no. With my aunts around, I'm fuller'n a tick on a dog. Yeah, finals start in just over two weeks and I'm afraid he's really getting behind with my aunts here."
"Ah, Mark's a pretty bright guy. He'll be fine." Harper bit blissfully into a brownie and smiled. "You think you could get the recipe for Claudia?" he asked hopefully.
The judge snorted. "I'll ask." He paused and rubbed his forehead wearily. "Listen, Frank, I know this is a weird situation, but they are the only eye witnesses you have. Yeah, they're a handful, but they're also accurate and observant. If they say the gunman was short, wearing a hat and overcoat, then you look for a short guy with a coat and hat."
"Yeah, but they can also get in the way. And cause problems." Harper scrubbed the dome of his head. "I gotta talk to the widow now. You wanna sit on on this?"
Hardcastle nodded. "If it's okay with you. I am kinda involved in this, ya know."
The Lieutenant went to the office door, opened it, peeked out and signaled to someone down the hall. "Could you bring Mrs. Howard in, please?"
Mrs. Howard, wearing a simple but expensive black dress, entered the office and looked around briefly before extending a hand to Frank.
"Mrs. Howard, I want you to know we're all very sorry for your loss and we'll do everything in our power to catch the assailant. Please sit down." Harper waved her to the chair in front of his desk.
Hardcastle bent assiduously over an open file on the cabinet he'd been leaning against to give the impression that he wasn't paying much attention. He flipped a few pages, then glanced briefly at the new-made widow.
The new-made widow cleared her throat then spoke. "Please ask me anything you want, Lieutenant, but I'm afraid I won't be of much help to you."
Frank picked up a pen and arranged his notes in front of him. "Obviously, the first thing we need to know is if your husband had any enemies that you knew about. Anyone who'd benefit if he was … um, not around."
"No. None." Mrs. Howard cleared her throat again. "There were differences of opinion at times, at the hotel, I mean, but nothing major. And even if there had been, Myron was retiring in five weeks. Anyone who wanted to take his place at the hotel had only to wait." She paused for a moment. "We were finally going to take that cruise to Australia."
Harper murmured another condolence, nearly inaudible, then took a breath and asked, "What about women? I mean, were there any times that you-"
Mrs. Howard, shaking her head, held up a palm to stop him. "My husband and I were happily married – very happily married – and I had complete confidence in his affections, as he had in mine. There were no affairs, no peccadillos, I assure you of that. Never. Myron was an attractive man and there have been some women who expressed, covertly, an interest in him. But we … well, we felt sorry for them and were sympathetic toward them. It was rather sad, actually, when he ..." she broke off suddenly. "There are some things, Lieutenant Harper, that are very personal to other people. Must I tell you about them?"
"Ah, well, if they're pertinent to the case, yeah, I'd like to hear them." Harper tapped his pen on the desk a few times. "How do you mean, personal?"
"There have been two cases in our marriage when Myron had to expressly tell a woman that he was not interested in her and would prefer to keep the relationship on a friendly basis rather than personal. I would much rather not name the two women, for their sakes. Myron was always very respectful-" She broke off and took a deep breath, then tried again. "He was always-" Mrs. Howard lifted a hand to her head. "If you'll excuse me, Lieutenant, I think … I think ..."
"Mrs. Howard, we can do this later, at your home, if you'd like." Frank stood and offered a hand to help her out of the chair. "I appreciate your coming down here and if you need a ride home, we can have one of my officers drive you."
She shook her head. "No, a friend drove me here. But thank you." She stared out of the window behind the desk for a few seconds. "Now I have to go back to an empty house. Empty for the rest of my life." She dragged her gaze back to Harper and a sad smile passed quickly over her lips, then disappeared. "I suppose I should cancel those cruise tickets." She rose and walked quietly out the door, closing it carefully behind her.
Harper stood as she left and Hardcastle, who'd been maintaining a discreet presence during the interview, let out his breath with a whoosh. "That's a grieving widow, Frank, or I never saw one."
"Yeah," Harper rubbed the top of his head again, "I think so, too. But you know we need to find out who those two women are. Maybe we can ask that secretary at the hotel, or that weird guy at the front desk. I probably shoulda pressed her a little for the names, but she kind got to me, you know?"
"Yeah." The judge nodded slowly. "She's very believable, even that part about the 'other women'. I dunno, just a kind of feeling I got about her or something, but I completely believed her."
Frank nodded, then sighed. "So, I'll send a woman officer out there in a few hours to talk to her. You know, offer assistance and then try to get those names. But we're not finding anything at the hotel that looks like there's been any problem, other than the books. And that's funny, too." He sank back into his chair and reached for his notes. "The financial stuff is strange. The same amounts are drawn out for 'Expenses', then replaced two days later. If you're paying expenses, you don't re-deposit that amount right away. And it's $100 on the nose, all three times. Picayune stuff for a place that size, if we've got an embezzler."
"Huh." Hardcastle stood in thought for a moment. "Maybe somebody's short of cash and thinks of it as a loan? Could be." He shrugged. "Listen, I gotta get out there and see what my aunts are doing. You let me know if anything comes up, okay?"
"Will do. Hey, don't forget the plate." The lieutenant handed over the now-empty brownie plate. "And thank 'em again for me, willya. But don't let 'em near any more evidence!"
ooooo
"Some of those people in the mug books really look quite unpleasant, you know." May tapped her chin thoughtfully.
Zora nodded in agreement. "But I thought their aliases were quite creative."
McCormick opened the door of the truck and reached in for the small plastic step the aunts used to clamber in. "It's too bad none of them clicked for you. It'd make Frank's job a lot easier."
"Mark, dear," May placed a hand on his arm, "I think we ought to go the victim's home, don't you? We need to see how he lived, check out his surroundings."
"Yes, indeed." Zora smiled up at her adopted nephew. "It's so important in cases like these to get to know the victim as well as possible."
McCormick closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, Aunt Zora, really, no. We've got to let the police take care of this. You remember what the judge said last time, right?"
May leaned out of the cab toward him. "Mark, are you really saying you won't drive us over there? In the interests of justice?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," McCormick stated definitively.
"Then we'll just have to take a taxi. Come on, May, get out of there and let's find a hackie." Zora strode off down the sidewalk.
"No, no, no!" Mark ran after her, waving his hands. "Aunt Zora!"
She stopped, turned slightly and said, "Well?"
May trotted down the sidewalk toward them eagerly. "You'll take us there?"
McCormick sighed and slumped. "No. But-" he held up a hand to forestall their arguments, "I'll make you a deal. You wanted to learn how to pick locks, right?"
The aunts nodded enthusiastically.
"Then I'll show you how, back at the estate." Mark looked at them sternly. "But we're staying out of this case from now on, okay? We're going to let the cops do their job and we're going to bake and sightsee and have some tea. Or bourbon," he added with a shrug.
May looked at Zora who returned her gaze. "We agree," they said in unison. "Unless," May added, "we find a new clue that the police haven't turned up."
"Deal," said Zora. "Now, where do we find some lockpicks?"
Mark smiled at his two aunts. "That's not going to be a problem."
ACT III:
Inside the gatehouse, Zora knelt on a plump cushion, gently probing at the lock of the front door. May watched anxiously, darting glances between her sister and the watch on her own wrist..
"Listen for it," advised McCormick, squatting next to Zora. "Don't jab at it, more like the touch of a butterfly wing."
"How poetic, Mark," murmured Zora. There was a barely audible click, she crowed in glee, and turned the knob to demonstrate that the door was successfully unlocked.
Aunt May clapped her hands. "Well done, Zora! And in only thirty-three seconds, too."
Mark helped a beaming Aunt Zora to her feet, then straightened the cushions and extended a hand to Aunt May. May knelt down and reached out her hand for the picks without taking her gaze from the lock. Silently, Mark handed them over and May went to work.
The hush continued, Zora closely eying her watch, until May said, "Got it!" and the lock clicked.
"What the he- ...eck are you doing?" Hardcastle pushed through the glass doors leading to the gatehouse patio and glared at the small party impartially.
The aunts looked at their older nephew in displeasure and Zora wagged her finger at him. "Milton, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."
May shook her head at him, then suddenly smiled. "We've been learning to pick locks," she chirped gleefully.
"McCormick," growled the judge.
"Now, Judge," Mark held up a hand, "you haven't heard the case for the defense yet."
"Defense?" sniffed Zora. "There's no defense needed here, Mark. We're simply doing our 'homework' for the L.A.D.I.E.S. competitions, that's all. Just as you're about to start on your own homework."
Mark nodded with enthusiasm. "Yep, that's right, Judge. And I've already looked up Grover v. South Dakota. That was a big help, made a lot of stuff clear. Thanks, Judge."
"Oh, don't slobber on me, McCormick." Hardcastle ran a hand over his face, then sighed and shrugged. "Just don't go picking locks except as a hobby, okay?" He looked at one aunt then the other. "You want to show off to your friends, that's one thing, but you get busted for breaking and entering, don't call me to set up your bail."
"Certainly not," said May placidly. "We'd call Mark for that."
As the judge growled, Zora hastened to wave the small group into the gatehouse living area. "Now, Milton, I was thinking about the case and it seems to me we ought to be able to assist the police a little further. I mean, surely we can use ratiocination to solve this murder."
May nodded in agreement as she lowered herself onto the couch and patted a cushion for McCormick to join her. "That's exactly right, Zora. We haven't really put our minds to it yet. There's just been too much going on."
"What's ratiocination, Aunt May?" McCormick stretched an arm out on the top of the sofa. "Like figuring out it by just thinking about it?"
The judge nodded as he sat in the armchair. "Yeah, like Sherlock Holmes."
Zora beamed at him in approval. "Yes, it's deduction, dear. Using your intelligence to find out the culprit."
"As Augustus Lyon always says in Lex Portly's books," added May, "'Factual evidence with reasoned analysis'."
"Let me just get us all some nice lemonade before we start to solve this case." Zora hurried into the gatehouse's tiny kitchen, where the others heard glasses clinking and cabinets opening and closing.
Hardcastle nestled into his chair a little more and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lemonade would be nice, I hafta say. Look, Aunt May, I know you want to help but could you just once leave it to the professionals?"
May smiled at him patronizingly. "Of course, Milton. But if we do think of something you could call that Lieutenant Harper we liked so much and tell him about it, couldn't you?"
Mark got up to take the tray of drinks as Zora entered the room. "Yeah, Judge. What would it hurt to talk things over? You never know if one of us might remember something important or start a train of thought."
Zora handed Hardcastle his glass as Mark passed May hers.
The judge took a healthy sip, coughed and held up his glass to examine it. "What's in this stuff?"
"It's Luckenback lemonade, dear." May took a sip from her frosted glass. "Lemonade made with a little bourbon and club soda. Mark's having a nonalcoholic beer since he has to study after this."
McCormick nodded his thanks and took the bottle from her. "C'mon, Judge. Let's try to ratiocinate this out. It's not going to hurt and I think they're making sense here. Let 'em take a stab at -"
"Watch those metaphors, Kiddo."
"- At figuring this out." Mark took a sip from his bottle, grimaced and put the bottle back on the coffee table.
"I dunno. You look kinda like a normal person, then you go acting like they do. What's a person supposed to think?" Hardcastle took another swig of his lemonade, then added, "A guy could get used to this stuff."
Zora nodded primly. "Well, we could go through Method, Motive, and Opportunity like the classics in the 30s."
May turned to her. "Oh, I was hoping to dissect the murderer's personality and psychological problems. You know, like Allen Broderick always does."
"We could try sending anonymous letters to all the suspects, like in Eckley's book, 'Too Many Clues' - you know, where only the real villain believes it and shows up at the bus stop." Zora sipped delicately at her lemonade.
"Look, how about we just go through what we know about Howard and what we know about the crime?" McCormick picked up his bottle, looked at it closely, then set it back again, even further from him.
The judge shrugged. "Okay. We got a guy with a good business reputation, running a hotel in good financial standing, who's retiring in a few weeks, and he's got no known enemies."
"Except for a looney-tune desk clerk," muttered Mark, looking darkly at his non-alcoholic brew.
May set her glass down. "We also know that the victim was happy in his marriage and had no personal money concerns. And those entries in the ledger look to me like someone covering up periodic peccadillos."
"I agree," Zora nodded. "Either his own or someone else's. Surely he had no need to take small amounts like that, one hundred dollars. Yet he must have been the one to make the covering deposits. It was clearly his signature on the bank slips."
Hardcastle threw a long-suffering look at McCormick, who returned a bland smile.
"They were in the drawer of his desk, dear." May answered the unasked question.
Zora took up the thread again. "So, a man with no known, or as-yet discovered enemies, no money problems, a happy marriage, goes into the alley behind a hotel. Why?"
"I was wondering if it was chance or if the killer made an appointment with him," May spoke up. "No one would just wait around a dark alley hoping the manager would come out at some point, surely? That argues an appointment."
"Not only that," Zora continued. "You can theorize that the killer was familiar with the location, and that Howard had no need to fear them."
McCormick settled back, arms across his chest, to enjoy the show. Hardcastle leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing.
"But we looked at his appointment book and there were no entries within an hour of when he was shot. Not only that, but wouldn't his secretary be aware if he stepped out of the office for any length of time?" May squinted into the distance. "Unless she was in on it."
"And don't forget the fedora that shaded the killer's features." Zora put a finger to her lips and frowned. "You don't see many fedoras these days. Especially in the daytime."
May immediately responded, "Milton always looked so charming and suave in his fedora, too. I wish men would go back to wearing hats."
Suddenly, the two women looked at each other and shouted, "Hats!"
Zora turned to Hardcastle. "Milton, the killer was wearing a hat!"
"Yeah, I know. I heard you say so." The judge opened his eyes and bent a quizzical look at his younger aunt.
May took up the thread. "But men don't wearhats any more! Certainly not a fedora in the middle of the afternoon." She cocked her head at Mark. "Don't you see? It was a disguise! A disguise for a woman!"
The judge shook his head. "Nah. I was there when Frank talked to Mrs. Howard. I'd be willing to swear she was really grieving and when she said he wasn't involved with anybody else, that was the truth if ever I heard it."
"Well, of course not his wife, Milton." May scowled at him. "His secretary. The one person who was familiar with that alley, had the opportunity to indulge in petty chicanery with the bank account, and knew Howard would be available at that time."
Zora chimed in, "Don't you see? She's the obvious suspect. Howard wouldn't have thought twice about it if she said she had something to show him in the alley. Or just asked him to meet her there."
Mark was staring at the judge now, and Hardcastle was staring back.
"A gun would be no problem for her to obtain, surely." May began collecting glasses and putting them on the tray. "She certainly had the opportunity and the method available to her. And I can guess about the motive, as well."
Zora nodded sagely. "Yes, indeed."
McCormick finally spoke. "It does make some sense, you know. They might have something here."
The judge pulled at his lip while he thought. After a moment, he grunted and rose from the chair. "It's worth checking out."
"Don't you wish men still wore hats?" May asked Zora.
"Oh, yes. I miss that. Straw hats in summer, fedoras for formal evenings." Zora sighed gently. "My Norbert looked so dapper in a straw hat."
"You shoulda seen Milton in his fedora and tux in Washington," said Mark with a tiny grin. "Hobnobbing with the politicos, swapping stories with the Supreme Court, dropping his tie in the onion dip."
Hardcastle tossed him a perfunctory glare, then directed his attention back to his aunts. "Let me get hold of Frank about all this and McCormick and I will head down there."
"Oh, no, you don't," Zora was outraged. "We're the eyewitnesses and we should be there when the culprit is arrested."
May fastened a gimlet eye on her older nephew. "We do have rights, you know."
ACT IV:
A police car sped up to the front entrance of the Empress Hotel and disgorged two uniformed officers. After that came an unmarked car containing Lieutenant Harper and another plainclothes detective, then Hardcastle's truck with the judge and his aunts, then the Coyote finished up the parade.
The parade continued, now consisting of people climbing the three steps into the lobby where they found an irritated Assistant Manager confronting them. Mr. Henley made it clear that he was unhappy with the official attention.
"I really cannot have the police constantly intruding on the premises. The tone of our establishment . . . the clientèle . . ." He shrugged his shoulders Gallicly and gestured at the empty lobby. "This is an affront to our patrons, our staff and, indeed, to our reputation." He stopped abruptly and pointed directly at Harper. "I shall report this outrage. You may depend on that!"
"You do that, sir," replied Frank cordially. "I'm sure the Commissioner would enjoy hearing from you."
The rest of the group had filed past the lieutenant and he hustled to catch up and try to take the lead from the aunts. He failed as they reached the manager's office and Aunt May opened the door.
Anne Poole was seated at her desk, rapidly typing. "Oh," she said, looking up, still red-eyed, "can I help you?"
Harper moved to the front, everyone else bustling into position behind him. "Miss Poole, I was hoping you could maybe answer a few more questions we have."
Aunt Zora peered around him to smile at the secretary. "It's just some small things that we were hoping you could clear up for us."
Harper glared at her and stepped determinedly back in front of her. "Mi-ilt," he warned, looking at Hardcastle.
May stepped behind McCormick and pulled Mrs. Howard into the background where she could see but not be seen, sandwiched between the two burly uniforms, then strode to the front of the gathering, neatly side-stepping the Lieutenant. Hardcastle reached for his aunt's sleeve, but Mark pulled him back, shaking his head.
"You see, Miss Poole," May stated clearly, "we know about the embezzlement. All those small sums to get Mr. Howard's attention. Of course, you didn't need the money, but he was a good man and understood, so he repaid the amounts every time you took them."
The lieutenant took a firm grip on his temper and opened his mouth to speak.
Aunt Zora elbowed him gently to one side to add, "And, Miss Poole, you surely realize they're going to trace the sale of that hat? There aren't that many hat stores these days."
Hardcastle nudged the Lieutenant. "You areworking on that, right, Frank?"
Zora, stepping directly in front of the now bemused-looking Harper, continued to address the white-faced secretary. "You desperately wanted Mr. Howard's attention, didn't you? He was an attractive man, a good man, and you loved him. Wanted his love in return, but couldn't have it since he was devoted to his wife."
"You must have tried all the little tricks before resorting to petty theft," May joined in the confrontation. "But none of them worked. And now he was going to retire and leave you forever. That must have been devastating for you, and you decided you couldn't allow that to happen." She leaned her palms on the desktop and fixed a piercing stare on the now-trembling secretary. "Did you give him an ultimatum? Give him a choice between you and his wife? And when he refused you bought the hat and the gun, didn't you?"
Harper closed his eyes, lifted his face, and seemed to indulge in prayer.
"Then you made up some excuse to get him into the alley," Zora took up the thread as Harper opened his eyes again and threw up his hands.
"This is badgering a witness!" he whispered frantically to Hardcastle.
"Nah, that's something you do in court. And you asked them here to see if anything brought back any other clues, right? They're your witnesses and they're just having a conversation with her." The judge leaned against the door frame and winked at McCormick.
May suddenly cocked her head and approached Anne Poole, hand held out. "You're so unhappy, aren't you? You've been miserable for so long." She shook her head in commiseration. "But killing him wasn't the answer. You know that now, don't you?"
"I didn't meanto!" the secretary suddenly blurted out. "I just meant to threaten him, to show him how serious I was!"
Mark gave a sigh of relief and pushed Harper to the fore.
Aunt Zora went to the secretary, who had started to weep. "There, there. I believe you didn't mean to kill him." She cast a glance of significance at May who handed Miss Poole a handkerchief.
Frank shouldered his way to the secretary and took her arm. "Miss Poole, I think you'd better come with us."
She nodded, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief and sniffling.
The aunts joined their nephews, smiling contentedly, and beckoned to Mrs. Howard to join them.
"There now, Milton. That wasn't so hard, was it?" May patted the judge's arm. "I think they'll charge her with second degree, don't you? And the jury will agree with that."
"I think you better stick to detecting and leave the judicial stuff to me," was his reply.
Harper and the other police escorted Miss Poole past them, and the lieutenant paused for a moment.
"You know, Milt," Frank ran a hand over his head as he searched for the right words, "your aunts -"
The judge held up a hand, palm out. "Yeah, I know. But there's no reason to thank 'em." He looked at his aunts and shook his head. "They just love to help out."
Harper left, rolling his eyes, and the small group remaining began to follow them.
"Are you all right, dear?" Zora asked the widow. "This must have been very difficult for you."
Mrs. Howard smiled sadly. "She fancied herself deeply in love with Myron. She was completely besotted with him. The attempted embezzlement was probably just a way of trying to get his attention. He always paid it back immediately, out of our own funds, you know, so she wouldn't get into trouble with the owners. Poor Anne. I'm certain she never meant to hurt him. In a way, she's a more tragic figure than I am. At least, I had Myron's love."
The aunts, one on each side of her, patted her shoulders and silently escorted her out.
EPILOGUE:
The stewardess behind the podium announced that Flight 109 bound for Little Rock, Arkansas was on time and would passengers please start boarding.
"I'll miss you both," McCormick gently hugged Aunt Zora. "Hey, who won the competition?"
"Oh, Margaret Lessingham solved the murder. She always does." May shook her head sadly, then turned a puckish face to her older nephew. "Except when we do." She then pecked Hardcastle on the cheek and patted his shoulder before turning to Mark. "We'll miss you both, too. It's been a wonderful experience." She gave him a hug then turned to pick up her overnight bag as Zora embraced the judge.
"We had such a wonderful time, Milton." Zora straightened her jacket, then reached for her own bag. "Thank you both. And I know you'll do wonderfully on your exams, Mark."
"Yes indeed," said May. "And don't forget to use up that nasty non-alcoholic beer on your petunias, dear."
"You bet," grinned Mark. "I'm just glad it's good for something."
Hardcastle ushered the aunts to the line forming to board the airplane. "Now you drive carefully from the airport, okay? And call me when you get home."
May patted his shoulder. "We will, Milton. And we'll see you both next year in Arkansas."
"You planning something I didn't know about, Judge?" McCormick raised his eyebrows at the older man.
The judge lifted his shoulders and shook his head, palms held up. "Not me."
"No, dear," May walked toward the gate, smiling. "You weren't aware of it yet, but you'll be staying with us next summer when the annual L.A.D.I.E.S. get-together is held in Little Rock."
"That's right," said Zora with a twinkle in her eye. "Next year, it's our turn to host a murder."
In Memoriam Larry Hertzog
