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"Done!" Sherry said.
"What is it?" Cora said.
"See for yourself."
Cora grabbed the puzzle, read: " 'Find a clue. Seal my fate. Match up the car's plate.' " She snorted. "Yesterday's news. We matched up the car's plate. It points to me."
"Not necessarily. You've got another KenKen."
"Right. So what am I supposed to do? Look at the second row across?"
"No." Sherry took the puzzle back. She pointed. "25 Across. 'With 22-Across, who to blame.' The answer to 25 Across is 'Third.' The answer to 22 Across is 'Column.' I a.s.sume that's the third vertical row."
"Great," Cora said. She s.n.a.t.c.hed up the KenKen. "What have we got? Let's see. '2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 1.' "
"If it's like the other one," Aaron said, "the first three numbers stand for letters."
"Yeah, well, I don't care what they are, 5, 6, 1 is not my license number."
"Let's see whose it is," Aaron said. "Lemme see the phone."
"The phone?" Becky said.
"The keypad. With the letters and numbers. We have to match them up and figure it out. It isn't easy, because each number could be any of three letters. In her case she knew the last three numbers were hers, then we saw if the first three fit. So, if there's any license plate that has these last three numbers-"
"h.e.l.l!" Cora said.
"What is it?" Sherry said.
"I know whose plate this is. I was driving around looking for it. It's Melvin's."
CHAPTER.
49.
"Okay, what do we do now?" Cora said.
"There's no what-do-we-do-now," Becky said. "What we do now is turn this over to the police."
"We can't give the chief another lead to Melvin. It'll practically ice the case."
"Oh, come on," Aaron said. "No one's going to find him guilty on account of a crossword puzzle."
"It's not a question of finding him guilty. It's a question of holding him in jail. Making statements to the press. Giving interviews to Rick Reed. Can't you see it now? PUZZLE LADY'S EX IMPLICATED IN MURDER BY PUZZLE. h.e.l.l, people will think I did it."
"Hey, there's a thought," Aaron said. "You wouldn't be trying to get back at him for the alimony suit, would you?"
"Of course she isn't," Sherry said irritably. "Think about it, Aaron. Just how likely is that?"
"I'm not saying she did. I'm just saying it's a tough theory to disprove. I mean, you give the police a crossword that implicates Melvin, there's only two things they're going to think. One, it implicates Melvin. Or two, you're trying to implicate Melvin. Particularly when you're the one giving it to the police."
"I wasn't the one who found the d.a.m.n thing," Cora said.
"No, your lawyer was. How much weight is that going to carry? You say, 'No, I didn't find it, my lawyer did.' "
"Sherry, you married a real pain in the a.s.s."
"He's just telling you what the cops are going to think. And it is what the cops are going to think. Don't lay it on him. h.e.l.l, even I have trouble with the story someone gave this to Becky."
"Oh, you think I made it up?"
"No. But maybe someone gave it to you, and Becky's covering for you. So no one will get the idea you made it up."
"Oh, my G.o.d," Becky said, "no one squabbles like relatives. What is this, Dysfunctional Family Feud? And it's a moot argument. The puzzle was given to me. I'm giving it to the cops. End of story."
"Yeah, but it's not the end of the story," Cora said. "Because then they're going to want to know what it means."
"Why? It's solved."
"Yeah. And you think that will satisfy Chief Harper? He's going to want to know what the solution means."
"And you tell him it's referring to a license plate. Not that big a jump from 'car's plate.' "
"Then he's going to want to know whose plate."
"And you'll tell him you don't know. You don't, do you? I mean, you haven't matched it up."
"Well, not entirely."
"Okay," Becky said. "First off, let's clear the room. I need to have a confidential conversation with my client. You guys gotta go. Before you do, I need to know. Are you going to talk to the police?"
"Now, hang on," Aaron said. "It depends what you mean by talk. I'm a reporter. I have to follow the story."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it. Are you going to blab to the police about the crossword puzzle?"
"Not unless directly asked."
"And you're not going to do anything that would lead them to directly ask. You're not gonna write this."
"Come on, Becky," Sherry said. "You know he won't write it."
"Unless I get it from the police. Which is something else entirely."
"And then you'll be circ.u.mspect?"
"I was born circ.u.mspect."
Becky turned on Cora. "All right. If you keep your mouth shut, are they going to come up with Melvin's plate?"
"I don't know."
"Well, how could they? Aside from trial and error. They won't have letters, just numbers."
"Yeah," Cora said doubtfully.
"What's the matter?"
"When I came up with my plate, two things happened. First of all, I knew it. Aaron came up with the idea of using the telephone keypad. He was trying to figure out what letters the numbers would stand for. I recognized the last three numbers of my plate. Then we checked the others."
"The police may not think to use a telephone keypad."
"Maybe not. But when I figured it out we didn't know we were looking for a license number. They will. 'Find a clue. Seal my fate. Match up the car's plate.' "
"So they'll check Melvin's plate because he's a suspect."
"It's a little worse than that."
"How can it be worse than that?" Becky said.
"When I spotted Melvin in court I had Dan Finley check around, see if he'd rented a car. Dan gave me the plate. Not only does he know the number, he knows I know the number. So, if the plate does happen to match..."
"Does it?"
"It sure looked like the last three numbers. If it is, it's gonna be pretty bad."
Becky looked at Cora in disgust. "And that's without the first crossword puzzle that points to your license number."
"Yeah. Which is too bad, because if the cops knew there was one implicating me, they'd be less apt to think I was behind it."
"Now you want to confess to withholding evidence to put your actions in a better light."
"Isn't that what you're doing with the puzzle you got?"
"I am turning over that puzzle to the cops at the earliest opportunity after I realized it was important."
"Wouldn't that opportunity have come and gone?" Cora said.
"No one's holding a stopwatch on me. I got it today. When did you get your puzzle?"
"I don't remember."
"Was it today?"
"Oh, all right," Cora said. "Call Chief Harper. Turn over the d.a.m.n puzzle. And let's put our heads together and see if we can figure out a way out of this d.a.m.n mess."
CHAPTER.
50.
Cora and Becky sat at a table in the coffee shop in the mall.
"Why are we at Starbucks?" Becky said.
"Don't be silly," Cora said. "The police want to talk to me. I'm not ready to talk yet. Besides, I need a Frappuccino."
Becky grimaced at the immense frozen concoction in front of Cora. "How can you drink that?"
"With a straw. Sip your skim latte and feel virtuous. I need a treat. It can't hurt. h.e.l.l, it might help."
"What is there to help? You've messed everything up. In your insane desire to protect the man who ruined your life. Your least favorite husband, if I remember correctly. The one you wanted to squash like a bug."
"Yeah, him," Cora said. "I'm not going nuts to protect him. But he didn't do it. Which means someone else is running around killing people. Do you really have a problem with the fact I'd like that person stopped?"
"I have a problem with the fact you're willing to risk fine and imprisonment to have that person stopped. Not that you don't take shortcuts with the law. But this is a little much, even for you. Aside from the crossword you're withholding, there's the murder weapon you pocketed and then planted."
"I didn't pocket it, I put it in my purse."
"It's not funny, Cora. I would like to keep you out of jail. I would like to keep me out of jail."
"Believe it or not, I have no problem with that. I would just like to catch a killer, too. Not to mention win the alimony suit."
"I almost forgot about that," Becky said.
"I wouldn't worry about it. If we stall long enough, the killer will knock off all of Melvin's witnesses."
Becky studied Cora's face. "You're loopier than usual. I don't know whether Melvin blew your mind, or if you're just scared and whistling in the dark. Consider this. How would you feel if you lost your career? If you couldn't be the Puzzle Lady anymore?"
Cora choked on her Frappuccino. Had Becky made the connection? Harvey Beerbaum hadn't when she'd told him she couldn't solve puzzles. It never occurred to him she couldn't construct them, either. But Becky had a legal mind. She was used to asking probing questions. Uncovering secrets. Recognizing lies. If she couldn't be the Puzzle Lady anymore? What else could it mean than being exposed as a fraud?
Cora gagged into her napkin, tears in her eyes.
"Are you all right?" Becky said.
"Brain freeze. Ignore it. I'm fine."
"Glad to hear it. I'm not," Becky said. "If you couldn't be the Puzzle Lady anymore, it would destroy you. You would have no column, no career, no TV ads. But that's not going to happen. If you can just stay out of jail, you'll be fine."