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MINUTES LATER, RED arrived. He also handily dismissed the extremely-curious Erma. Red rushed in the front door while he talked on the phone with the state police. “Mama?” he called out.
“In the kitchen. With the perp,” Myrtle called back. “He hasn’t woken up yet.”
Red jogged in to see his mother brandishing her new fire extinguisher over Tarleton’s head, Tarleton lying in a heap on her kitchen floor, and Puddin standing sullenly off to the side as if ready to flee at any time.
“Will he wake up?” asked Red. “Have you checked for a pulse?”
“Oh, he’s alive. Although I can’t seem to muster much sympathy for him,” said Myrtle.
“I had Erma call an ambulance,” said Red. “Even though I wasn’t exactly sure what type of emergency I was walking into here.” He paused. “I’m taking it that Tarleton must have done something fairly egregious for you to swing a fire extinguisher at him.”
“He certainly did. He was planning on killing me with his bare hands and telling you that he found me like this when he came in to change out lightbulbs,” said Myrtle.
“I saw him tryin’ to kill her. Nasty man,” said Puddin, eyes narrowing as she glared daggers at the unconscious man.
“A nasty man who shouldn’t have been sent here to do work for me,” pointed out Myrtle.
Red rubbed his forehead with one hand. “Who’d have guessed that Tarleton Fleming would be a two-time murderer? I’d pretty much focused on other suspects and counted him out.”
“Which suspects had you focused on? Perhaps Holt Kelly?” asked Myrtle sweetly. She liked to demonstrate that she was several steps ahead from where her son might think she was.
“Maybe,” said Red, crossing his arms and frowning at his mother.
Puddin growled, “Another nasty man.”
“Holt has his issues, for sure. And he definitely doesn’t need to be an administrator in a high school. But he didn’t kill Neil and Lyle,” said Myrtle.
Red said, “I’m guessing that your sudden professional aspirations had to do with arranging conversations with Holt?”
“They might have,” said Myrtle carelessly.
“Not nice when folks don’t talk English,” Puddin muttered.
Myrtle gave a long-suffering sigh. “I pretended I wanted to return to teaching so that I could ask Holt Kelly questions.”
Red said, “At any rate, he’s not employed by the high school any longer. What’s more, he’s looking at some jail time. Apparently, he was resuming his bad Boston habits. The state police got word that he was starting back up with drug dealing. We had to bust him late last night since we were worried he planned on having students as customers.”
Myrtle raised her eyebrows. “That might explain why he was spotted at the park around the time of Lyle’s murder. Perhaps he was picking up or distributing contraband.”
Myrtle added, “You might also have thought that Adelaide Pound was a good candidate for the killer. Especially since Tarleton blathered all over town about her and how she was ‘stalking’ Neil Albert.”
Red said, “Well, I have to hand it to him because it was an excellent diversionary tactic.”
“And Clara was likely a major suspect,” said Myrtle.
“The spouse always is. Besides, they didn’t always get along. Not that that automatically leads to murder, of course,” mused Red.
Tarleton started stirring on the floor and gave a little moan. Puddin yelped and backed farther away from him.
Red’s phone rang and he picked up. After listening for a second, he said, “If you could search Tarleton Fleming’s house? Yes. He tried to kill my mother, an act that was witnessed by my mother’s housekeeper.”
Myrtle said, “Perhaps they should look for a bloodstained shirt.”
Puddin gasped as if the word bloodstained invoked unspeakable horrors.
Red raised his eyebrows and added, “My mother suggests searching for a bloodstained shirt. That’s correct.”
Red hung up and then said, “So he realized you were on to him, is that right? Surely you didn’t say something to him about it?” His voice was stern.
Myrtle put her hands on her hips. “You think I went right up to the two-time murderer and told him that I knew all about his dastardly deeds? Give me some credit. No, I didn’t say a word. But he realized, just the same.”
“If I ask you how you figured it all out, am I going to get a convoluted answer about soap operas and Miles and all sort of assorted craziness?” demanded Red.
“Certainly not. I simply realized that Tarleton was wearing a hat. It’s been knocked off his head now, of course. Lyle told Sally (and Sally told me) that Neil had been wearing a hat when changing his tire. But, then I went to book club,” said Myrtle. “And that’s when everything started falling into place.”
Red rolled his eyes. “Assorted craziness it is,” he interjected.
Puddin said reproachfully, “I thought you was still at book club. You said ten o’clock. You bolted from there early.”
“I was wrong—the meeting was at nine o’clock. Anyway, while I was at book club, Tippy mentioned something about Neil always being ‘so elegantly dressed’ or something like that. Typical Tippy remark, but she was right. Neil certainly wouldn’t have been wearing a baseball cap, especially on his way back from the bank. Lyle must have seen Neil’s killer, not Neil, by the side of the road,” said Myrtle.
Red said, “How could Lyle make such a huge mistake? Tarleton is a good deal older than Neil and looks completely different.”
Myrtle said, “I think that Tarleton was mostly obscured by the car. He’d clearly just put Neil into his own trunk and was leaning over. But Lyle must have recognized Tarleton’s outfit later when he saw him out and realized that he’d made a mistake. That he’d seen Tarleton, not Neil.”
“Wouldn’t Lyle have seen Tarleton’s car? Surely that would have been a dead giveaway,” said Red.
“No, because remember where Neil had the flat. He was right over there by the factory and that spilling-over parking lot and the parallel parking on both sides of the road. It’s a wonder that even Neil could find a place to pull over. Tarleton’s car would have simply blended in with all the other cars. Neil stood out only because he was changing the flat,” said Myrtle.
“And then Tarleton somehow saw that Lyle knew the truth,” said Red.
“An’ killed him!” said Puddin, scowling viciously at Tarleton, who was now starting to groan.
Myrtle said, “Lyle most likely saw Tarleton wearing the same clothes that he thought ‘Neil’ was wearing while changing out his flat tire. Tarleton probably hadn’t realized that he’d been spotted by anyone. Maybe he hadn’t even heard the car drive by because he was so absorbed with disposing of Neil’s body.”
Red frowned. “Tarleton seems too bright to just put on the same clothes he wore that evening.”
“But consider the circumstances. Tarleton had fallen on hard times. He wasn’t really in the position to get rid of perfectly good clothing. He probably just washed the clothes and then put them right back on,” said Myrtle.
Red’s phone rang again and he sighed, pulling it out of his pocket. “Yes? You did? Thank you.” He looked over at his mother. “The state police found a bloodstained shirt and pants in the corner of Tarleton’s closet. Care to fill me in on why you believed they’d be there?”
Myrtle shrugged. “Simple. Tarleton realized that he’d had to kill Lyle because he’d kept the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d murdered Neil. He decided not to take that risk again and just hid the stained clothing. Neil’s murder was spontaneous, but Lyle’s was better-planned. He must have been able to tell by Lyle’s expression that he’d put two-and-two together.”
“Lyle’s expression when?” asked Red. “It couldn’t have been at the park because there was certainly no reason for Tarleton to be there that early other than to murder Lyle.”
“Lyle’s expression whenever,” said Myrtle with an impatient shrug. “It doesn’t really matter. I’d imagine it was sometime the evening before so that Tarleton didn’t give Lyle the chance to share his suspicions. Since everyone knew that Lyle Solomon always visited the park very early in the morning, he waited for him.”
“Like a spider in a web,” said Puddin, shaking her head. Tarleton stirred again, but his eyes remained closed.
Red said, “These were two very different crimes. Neil’s was spontaneous and vicious and Lyle’s was planned and careful.”
Myrtle said, “There were two different motives. It wasn’t immediately obvious, you know, because Tarleton is a very genial man. But he had a strong motive and was very, very persistent. I’d heard that he asked Neil for a job at the bank several times, at least. Most people would have moved on to something else.”
“He did move on to something else, though, Mama. That’s why he was doing odd jobs for you,” said Red.
Puddin said scornfully, “Killin’ people you work for don’t make you much money.”
“Tarleton worked odd jobs to keep his cash flow going, perhaps. But mentally? He hadn’t really accepted his role as handyman. He liked the bank and was an excellent banker. He identified as a banker. When the banking gig was over, he felt a loss of identity and wanted to return to the bank—in any capacity,” said Myrtle.
Red said, “Meaning that he needed to talk to Neil about a job. Which must have stung.”
“Exactly. Tarleton had gone out of his way to help Neil and find him a position at the bank. His act of kindness meant that he found himself jobless. And he continued asking Neil for employment. Tarleton met up with him outside the bank and pestered him in the grocery store. And when he saw Neil on the side of the road with car trouble, what better time to ask him? He was stranded, for heaven’s sake. He had a captive audience.”
Puddin said, “An’ he wouldn’t give him a job. Some friend.”
Myrtle nodded. “And Neil, who wasn’t always the most pleasant person, probably wasn’t in the best of moods while he was changing a flat tire in variable weather conditions. He likely gave Tarleton a piece of his mind. Maybe he even put him down.”
Red finished, “And Tarleton picked up the tire iron and clubbed Neil with it.”
Myrtle nodded “He saw red. And then picked Neil’s body up and stuffed it into the trunk of the car so that no passersby would see him with a body.”
Myrtle added, “The next time, it wasn’t fury fueling him, it was self-preservation. Tarleton probably didn’t feel as if Lyle were such a bad guy. He likely wanted to make sure that Lyle never knew what hit him. Maybe he waited until Lyle was completely absorbed in filling a feeder. He simply needed to make sure that Lyle didn’t reveal the fact that Tarleton was there when Neil was murdered. He must have been very nervous that Lyle might say something to his wife before he had the chance to silence him.”
“Maybe he wasn’t. Lyle and Sally weren’t exactly the sorts to confide in each other all the time. They weren’t even the sorts to be spending very much time with each other,” said Red.
“True. They were more like two completely separate and individual people who happened to be married,” said Myrtle.
Puddin’s eyes lit up at the gossip. Myrtle gave her a quelling look.
Red said, “And then, today, Tarleton realized that you knew about the hat, Mama. Or, at least, realized that you’d somehow figured it all out.”
Puddin said smugly, “An’ I saved her.”
“You certainly didn’t,” said Myrtle in a cold voice.
“Did, too! All because of the talk show,” said Puddin, sounding complacent. “An’ because my TV is broke.”
“Heaven save me from soap operas and talk shows,” muttered Red.
Myrtle said to Puddin, “I’m furious with you, by the way. You overrode Tomorrow’s Promise for your silly talk show and then sneaked over here to watch it while you thought I was at book club!”
“Saved yer life, didn’t I?” said Puddin, shooting Myrtle a sullen look.
“Yes, you did,” said Red. “Mama, I think you can let Puddin’s little indiscretion slide.”
Puddin narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, mouthing the word indiscretion as she tried to decipher it.
“I suppose Puddin helped provide a distraction so that I could wallop Tarleton with the fire extinguisher,” said Myrtle in exasperation. “But no more TV over here!”
Puddin muttered sullenly under her breath.
“Now, Mama, it’s time for you to move out of the way. I hear the state police guys driving up and an ambulance siren in the background. Maybe you can go to Miles’s house for a few minutes. Puddin, too? We’ll get you to sign formal statements as soon as the guys are done in here with Tarleton and making notes on the scene,” said Red.
Myrtle and Puddin headed toward the front door. “Will there be party food?” she asked greedily.
“Plenty of it. Those hens just peck at food when the rooster is around,” said Myrtle.
Puddin scowled, bewildered again by making sense of Myrtle’s conversation.
As they walked down Myrtle’s front walk, Lieutenant Perkins was on his way up, hurrying past a sour-looking Dusty, who was trying to start his weed trimmer. Perkins stopped and looked at Myrtle with concern.
“Another close call?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
Puddin jumped in. “I saved her.”
Myrtle rolled her eyes. “Never mind that nonsense. I clobbered Tarleton with a fire extinguisher. He hasn’t yet woken up.”
“Well, thanks for putting all the pieces together,” said Lt. Perkins. “Again. Where are you heading now?”
“To Miles’s house. We’ll wait to hear from you and Red there,” said Myrtle.
Dusty’s weed trimmer finally roared to life and Myrtle watched as he, apparently believing Elaine’s landscaping to be strange and impertinent weeds, savagely hacked them apart. She winced. At least Elaine would believe Myrtle when she told her that Dusty’s complete incompetence was at fault.
As they headed to the sidewalk, Puddin said loudly over the trimmer, “There won’t be no more book talk over there, will there?”
“Heavens, no. Book club was over a while back. And this group didn’t spend much time discussing The Mayor of Casterbridge, anyway,” said Myrtle with a snort.
Puddin wrinkled her nose. “Haven’t heard of it. Got animals in it?”
“Well, it has a bull,” said Myrtle. She stopped short, staring ahead of her. “What do you know? All those old biddies are still hanging out at Miles’s house.”
Puddin looked alarmed. “I don’t wanna discuss no book.”
“Oh, they won’t be talking about it. That’s what I was saying—the book discussion, for what it was worth, was over. No, these are women trying to visit with Miles as long as they can,” said Myrtle. As Puddin still balked, she added, “And there’s sure to be lots of leftover food.” She beamed. “And, what’s more? I can regale the group with my tale of heroism.”
Puddin added, “An’ how I helped.”
They both strode toward Miles house and the houseful of people, eyes gleaming with anticipation at the thought of the audience waiting for them.