The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady by Parnell Hall Read Free Book Online Page A

was a murder suspect. Now he wasn’t, but his wife was still dead. The police had let him back into his house, and now he was in his living room with a Japanese woman who looked like a Japanese woman, in a colorful silk kimono, and a Japanese girl who looked like an American girl, in typical teenage attire. These two women, real or imaginary, were in his living room, the same living room where his wife had died, if she was indeed dead, if it wasn’t an alcohol-induced fantasy dredged up from the deep subconscious of his being as a warning never under any circumstances to drink again.
    The Japanese woman was talking, enumerating the very points of confusion in his mind. “I am sorry that your wife is dead. It is a tragedy. But I am glad that the police let you go.”

    Jason blinked. “I saw you in jail,” he said. He wondered if it was true.
    â€œAnd now you are out of jail. And now we can talk.”
    That triggered another memory. “My lawyer told me not to talk to anyone.”
    Minami smiled. “Your lawyer is Miss Rebecca Baldwin?”
    â€œYes,”
    â€œShe told you not to talk to the police. Because they might not understand, and then they would keep you in jail. She did not say you could not talk to me.” Minami nodded in agreement with herself, then steamed ahead as if there had been no digression. “The police believe you killed your wife. Now we must find out who did.”
    Jason frowned. “Who did?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œNo one did. It was an accident.”
    â€œThat would be nice. Not that she had an accident. But it would be nice if no one wished her dead.”
    â€œDon’t be silly. Who would want to hurt her?”
    â€œThat is what we must determine. What do you have that one might wish to steal?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œNo cash? No jewels? No coin or stamp collection?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œMay I see your study?”
    â€œWhy?”
    Michiko had twisted herself into a pretzel, was tugging on her foot. “Oh, let her. It’s the quickest way to get rid of her. Just show her what she wants.”
    Jason got up, led Minami and Michiko down the hall into his den. It was poorly furnished, with an ancient computer, a tiny TV,
a battered bookcase that held more assorted junk than books, a desk chair and an easy chair. There was no table or sideboard.
    Minami glanced around. “So. Where do you hide it?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYour alcohol. You do not have a bar. You like to drink. Your wife did not like you to drink. You hide it. Where?”
    Jason started to flare up, then sighed, shrugged, pointed to the bottom drawer.
    Minami jerked it open, pulled out a half pint of whiskey and a shot glass. “Ah. Like the American private eye.”
    â€œSo? No one broke in to steal my booze.”
    â€œOf course not. What else do you hide?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œNothing? You do not have a safe in the wall?”
    â€œDon’t be silly.”
    â€œWhy is that silly? What else is hidden in this room?”
    â€œI told you. Nothing.”
    â€œI see.” Minami bent over, wrenched open the bottom drawer on the other side.
    It was full of men’s magazines.
    â€œSo. Your wife knew about these?”
    Michiko pressed forward. “Let me see.”
    â€œThere is nothing to see,” Minami said, slamming the drawer.
    â€œIs there, Mr. Fielding? Now, about what else did you lie?”
    â€œNothing.” Jason’s face was flushed with embarrassment.
    â€œThat’s enough. Please leave.”
    Minami nodded. “Yes. I am done with this room.”
    She went out the door, headed toward the back of the house.
    â€œHey! Where are you going?”
    â€œThis is the kitchen?”
    â€œStay out of there.”

    â€œThere is something you do not want me to see in the kitchen?”
    â€œI don’t want you in my house. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the