Chapter 34

 

All eyes snapped to me. It was obvious no one had expected me to have the answer. I hadn’t expected it myself.

“Cora, Cora Baker Caulfield, and I were looking at some old photos. We thought we saw something hidden under Hammer Bridge, so just for fun we went looking for it. We found a small metal tackle box with a padlock on it. The kind kids use on school lockers. They have three-number combinations...”

“Is it at your house?” Powers cut in. His high voice had become almost a squeak.

“No, Cora has it. We didn’t try to open it. We had no idea it had anything to do with this case.”

“Can we get her here?” Powers asked of Milford, hardly taking a breath.

“May I make a suggestion?” I asked. All heads turned in my direction. “My dog, well, my cousin’s dog actually, is in my car. He needs to be let out. Mr. Leonard is very uncomfortable in these chairs, and we are all hungry and thirsty. Can’t this wait until after lunch? Maybe Cora would let us come to her place where there are more comfortable seats, and then we could see if these numbers open the lock on the box.”

Special Agent Powers hesitated a moment and then nodded. “I presume you have some sort of restaurant in your little burg that could seat us?”

“The Pine Tree is right in town,” DuWayne’s lawyer said evenly. It was the first time he’d spoken. “It’s quaint, but the food is good. I’ve tried most of the menu in the past few days.”

Within fifteen minutes Cora had been called, and we were told she agreed to arrange her living room for a meeting there in an hour. She said she had the box, safe and sound.

No one had very much to say during lunch, but afterwards Sunny came and smiled up at me. “Thanks, I was really hungry,” she said.

“We all were, but I was most concerned about your Grandpa.”

“I know, the policemen like to solve things, but they don’t pay much attention to other people when they want something done.” I thought Sunny summed it up quite well.

We made our own parade to Cora’s house. I took my Jeep and the girls rode with me, because they wanted to hug and pet Paddy, who did not mind the attention one little bit. Corliss went with Detective Milford. DuWayne and his lawyer went in another car. That made me think DuWayne must already be released on bond, since he wasn’t in handcuffs or in the presence of an officer. The FBI man drove his own vehicle. I knew we’d have to park along the road. There wasn’t nearly enough room for everyone to get into Cora’s yard.

I hadn’t been allowed to speak with her, but I was hoping Cora would figure out some of what might be happening. She did not disappoint, and she must have summoned the energy of a whirlwind to prepare her living room for us. As we filed in I could see there were no boxes filled with future museum exhibits in the middle of the room. They’d been pushed back against the floral-papered walls. She’d brought in the kitchen chairs and placed them between the couch and other chairs. I knew she had a recliner, and that’s why I’d suggested going to her place. It was the only kind of seating that didn’t hurt Len’s back.

In the middle of the room, she’d opened up one of her folding work tables, and she had laid out the photos we’d been looking at when we first noticed the box. At the far end of the white table sat the tackle box itself.

I chose one of the kitchen chairs. Paddy was welcome here, so he came in too and sat between Sunny and me. He remained alert; he seemed to understand something interesting was about to happen. We got seated and made introductions for Cora’s benefit. I learned that DuWayne’s lawyer was X.E. Jones, JD, of Chicago. Cora took charge. I was surprised the law officers let her, but despite her tiny frame she commanded the room like a teacher in a classroom. She explained how we had noticed the difference in the bridge photos and had gone in search of the reason why. Star was less interested in the box and more interested in the picnic photos showing her mother as a small child.

Cora’s build-up was perfect. At last she handed the box to Detective Milford and said, “Based on what you told me on the phone, I believe you may be able to open this, and solve one more piece of this mystery.”

I hoped she hadn’t overdone it. We really had no idea what was in the box.

Milford and Powers both slipped on latex gloves, but it was the Detective who took the knob on the lock in his big fingers and rotated it. We could hear the mechanism clicking. It sounded gritty and seemed to stick a little, but the detective worked it back and forth, and finally spun the dial a few times. I think we each held our breath as he slowed the rotation and stopped at a number. I remembered it was thirteen. I tried to recall how those locks worked. You had to go back past zero to the next number, I thought. Milford moved the dial counterclockwise a whole turn. Thirty-five. Then just a short ways to the right, to seven. Click.

The room was so quiet we all heard the lock open. Milford slipped it out of the hasp, and lifted the lid. He pulled out a small brown notebook with a rubber band around it. When he tried to remove the band it broke and fell to the floor, but the book itself was in good shape. The metal box had protected it from animals and most of the effects of the weather. We could see that much, but I saw no reactions to the book. All faces were blank; all except DuWayne’s. I thought I saw a flicker of recognition, but then his expression became inscrutable once more.

Milford opened the book and slowly flipped some of the pages. Then, wordlessly, he handed it to Powers.

Powers pored over the pages. A small smile began to play around the corners of his mouth. With every page he turned, his smile widened. At last he lifted his head.

“This book contains a complete diary of drug deliveries over a period of time between 1998 and 2004. Apparently, Angelica was acting as something of an accountant. There are notes of dates, places of delivery, kinds and quantities of drugs. Best of all, the person who was the courier for each delivery signed the book.”

I was shocked. “Why would drug dealers do that?”

DuWayne answered the question. “We were a tight group, but Larry himself insisted on it. He was so paranoid about getting cheated by one of us that he made us sign in and out. But after Angelica wanted out, she refused to keep the book any more. I thought she gave it to Larry.”

“No wonder he came back here,” Milford said, sounding extremely pleased. “He needed to find this notebook.”

“Bailey was killed September 12, 2003.” Powers said. “Let me read that entry.”

The agent flipped through a few more pages, and his smile became predatory. “Fifteen pounds marijuana, two kilos cocaine, picked up at the Sleep Lodge. The entry is signed Larry Louama. We got him.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Cora said. “But why did you bring all these people out here on the unlikely chance you might find this evidence?”

“Because I was hoping to be able to say this.” Powers lifted his head and looked at Star and Sunny. He practically squeaked, “For the person or heirs, there is a $30,000 reward for information leading to the conviction of the killer of J. Everett Bailey.”

Sunny slipped from her chair and flung her arms around the big red dog by her side. I’m sure Paddy was smiling.