The answer is always there. You just have to put it all together. Sometimes you need a little help.
—Sally Snoops and Her Curious Kitty: The Girl Who Was Lost and Found
“ONCE A WORM, always a worm,” Deputy Chief Franzetti said.
“Dr. Leeds?” I presumed.
Saturday meant cinnamon buns in Quindicott, and Eddie and I were sitting inside the Cooper Family Bakery, polishing off a few. We were alone—not literally, the place was as busy as ever. But Jack was out of the picture, still sapped by all the excitement from two nights ago.
“You would not believe the elaborate excuses and rationales Roger Leeds had for everything,” Eddie confessed. “He swore he had nothing to do with the attempted murder of Professor Parker. When we found the paint-stained van in his locked garage, Leeds insisted it had been planted there to incriminate him.”
“I guess we know how he got his nickname.”
Eddie sipped his coffee and nodded. “Leeds claimed he was ‘nowhere near’ Shirley Anthor’s home when she fell down the stairs, even though his mobile phone tells a different tale. He said he didn’t bring a gun to the beach house. That it was Philip Hudson’s gun—and Hudson attacked him—even though we have sworn statements to the contrary by you, Emma, and Philip. When I asked him why he was at the house in the first place, he claimed he was simply out for a walk and came upon the place.”
“What about Professor Ridgeway’s death?”
“He denied his involvement. So I showed him a picture of the broken taillight on Ridgeway’s car, and the Usher Security recording of Leeds breaking the taillight on yours.”
Eddie laughed, the way Jack does when he’s cornered some thug and is ready to dispense justice.
“Leeds was shocked by the recording. He didn’t realize there were any cameras around. But within two minutes he was claiming that the NSA or CIA was framing him. It only got crazier as the night went on. By the end of the interview, Leeds was ranting.”
Eddie fixed me with his gaze. “I’ve heard the term psychopathic liar, but I had no experience with one until my evening with Roger Leeds.”
“So what do you think really happened?”
“It’s clear Leeds was desperate to turn that lurid diary into a novel. He has three ex-wives breathing down his neck for alimony, and he’s in deep trouble with the IRS. But Leeds discovered writing a novel wasn’t so easy, and he brought Professor Kevin Ridgeway aboard. Then Ridgeway found he needed help and hired your friend Brainert and Professor Shirley Anthor. After the book became a big bestseller, Ridgeway threatened to expose Leeds if he didn’t hand over more of the profits. In Leeds’s sick mind, poor Kevin had to die.”
“And Shirley?”
“You already told me she’d figured out Roger Dodger’s identity. That was reason enough to kill her. But I suspect she was pressuring Leeds for more money, too.”
“But why try to kill Brainert? He didn’t want money. And he didn’t have a clue Leeds was involved.”
“After Kevin Ridgeway’s death, Brainert was upset. He started asking questions at the university. Leeds figured it was only a matter of time before Brainert would start unearthing answers.”
“And how did Leeds know I was involved?”
Eddie lowered his voice. “It was Brainert, Pen. He showed up on campus the day after that van nearly killed him, talking about how you and Seymour were protecting him, and you were searching doggedly for the culprit behind the wheel.”
“So I had to die, too?”
“Roger Leeds was feeling big enough to roll over anyone he wanted. And, frankly, I think the man did so many drugs in his youth that it damaged his brain. He was becoming more unhinged and reckless as time went on. By the end, I think he was looking for excuses to kill people. It gave him a thrill. The way I look at it, Waldo the Parrot got off lucky.”
“You know, from the start, that talking bird tried to warn us. He gave a telltale phrase, but we didn’t listen.”
“How could you know the bird wasn’t spouting nonsense?” Eddie stretched his long legs and finished his coffee. “I mean, who listens to a parrot? You might as well talk to the dead.”
A chilly draft suddenly swept through the bakery, making the whole joint shiver. I simply smiled. By now, I was used to it.
“You know what, Eddie? You may have put the cuffs on the killer. But the parrot and a dead teen solved this case.”
Don’t forget Sally Snoops, sweetheart. She helped, too.