Dead Man's Puzzle by Parnell Hall Read Free Book Online

Baldwin was back in his good graces.
    The water was boiling. Cora dropped in the noodles, got a fork, stirred them around.
    Cooking wasn’t so hard.
    Cora got a dog biscuit, tossed it to Buddy.
    The doorbell rang.
    Buddy went yapping off in that direction.
    Cora frowned.
    No one came calling after eleven o’clock. Not in Bakerhaven. It just wasn’t done. Who could it be? Harvey Beerbaum? If it was him, his chances of marrying her would have dropped from next to nil to half-past hopeless.
    Cora scowled at the door. Apartments in the city had peepholes. In the country, you never knew who was on your front stoop.
    She pushed back the blind on the window, peered out.
    Standing outside was a man in a stocking cap. That was a bad sign. It wasn’t cold enough for a stocking cap.
    And Cora didn’t know him.
    Cora fumbled through her purse, gripped the handle of her pistol. Wondered how she ever got along without a safety chain on the door. She really should install one. Of course, she only ever thought of it in moments she needed it.
    Cora opened the door a crack. “Yes?”
    “Miss Felton?”
    “Yes?”
    “I need your help.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m scared.”
    “How come?”
    “Mr. Overmeyer.”
    “What about him?”
    “He was killed.”
    “How do you know?”
    “It was on the news.”
    “Oh?”
    “You gotta help me.”
    “Why?”
    The little man shuffled his feet.
    “I’m afraid I’m next.”

Chapter 12
    Cora’s visitor sat on the couch. He wore blue jeans, a plaid shirt, a peacoat, and a stocking cap. He was shivering. His eyes were watery, and his nose was running.
    “You’re cold. You want some tea?”
    “No.”
    “Good. You wouldn’t get it. It’s late, I’m tired, you got in by saying the magic words. Who are you and what do you want?”
    “Stockholm.”
    “Like the syndrome?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Skip it. How do you know Overmeyer?”
    “We go way back.”
    “You don’t look old enough.”
    “He knew my father.”
    “Where?”
    “Is it important?”
    “No. I don’t feel like cross-examining you. You got a story to tell, tell it.”
    “Fifty years ago, Overmeyer and my father were partners.”
    “In what?”
    “An investment.”
    “What kind of investment?”
    “Stock.”
    “Aha.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Nothing. I just have some stocks of my own. I know how volatile the market can be.”
    “Exactly. Anything you do, you take a chance.”
    “What happened?”
    “It’s not like we played the market. We had a little money, we bought some stock, we held on to it.”
    “What was the stock?”
    His eyes flicked. Cora wondered if he was going to lie. Instead, he evaded.
    “You know, fifty years ago everybody smoked.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “It looked like everybody always would.”
    “So?”
    “We bought Philip Morris.”
    “Oh.”
    “Not a lot. But since then it’s split several times.”
    “So why wasn’t Overmeyer rich?”
    “He and my father were silent partners. They didn’t hold the stock.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “They had the right to the money. It just wasn’t in their name.”
    “What gave them the right?”
    “Stock-pooling agreement.”
    “Do you have it?”
    “No.”
    “Where is it?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Who are the other two partners?”
    “That’s not important.”
    “Are they living?”
    “That’s not important.”
    “It is to them.”
    “The stock belongs to them and their descendants. That doesn’t matter. The point is, there’s four owners. I’m one of them. Overmeyer was another.”
    “Who’s his heir?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “Where’s the stock-pooling agreement?”
    “Everyone had a copy.”
    “Where’s yours?”
    “Mislaid.”
    “Are you kidding me?”
    “When my father died, I could not find it in his papers.”
    “So you went to Overmeyer.”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    His face showed impatience. “It doesn’t matter. You’re obsessing about small things. The important thing is