You Have the Right to Remain Puzzled Read Free Page A

their cereal. If that image is built on an unfounded premise, they’re guilty of false advertising.”
    “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”
    “This is a no-brainer, Cora. Did you steal a crossword puzzle from this guy?”
    “You’re asking me to incriminate myself?”
    “Off the record.”
    “Off the record, on the record, I can’t begin to tell you how I didn’t.”
    “So, what’s the big deal? Guy says you did, you say you didn’t, he can’t prove it, end of case.”
    “Does your client know what you think of his chances?”
    “I didn’t say his chances are bad. I just said he can’t prove anything. That doesn’t mean Granville Grains won’t pay him off to make him go away.”
    “And you wonder why there are lawyer jokes,” Cora grumbled.
    There came the sound of more tires on gravel. Cora looked up to see two police cars swinging into the drive.
    “Ah! Excellent!” Cora clapped her hands together, strode back to the unhappy throng. “Dennis! Good news! The cops are here. I hope they have a tape measure. What is it, a hundred yards you’re supposed to keep away from Sherry? I think you might be a little close.”
    Dennis’s face twisted in rage. “Damn it, Sherry! You called the cops?”
    “Don’t be silly,” Brenda said. “How could she call? She’s been right here the whole time.”
    “He
wasn’t!” Dennis stabbed an accusing finger at Aaron. “He called ’em from his car!”
    Aaron stuck out his chin. “I don’t need anybody’s help to deal with you.”
    Dennis sneered. “Like hell! Big man! Called for backup!”
    Two cops came up the drive. Dan Finley, an impressionable young officer, and actually a Puzzle
    Lady fan. And Dale Harper, the Bakerhaven chief of police.
    Cora knew both men well. She had cooperated with the police on several occasions, though
cooperated
was perhaps the wrong word.
    The two officers seemed somewhat taken aback by the crowd on the lawn.
    Cora pressed forward. “Hi, Chief. Hi, Dan. Good to see you.” She jerked her thumb at Dennis. “Unless you’re blocking this son of a bitch’s car. He was just leaving.”
    Chief Harper didn’t crack a smile. In fact, he looked rather unhappy. “Cora Felton,” he began.
    “My, my, how formal,” Cora said.
    Chief Harper pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I have a warrant for your arrest.”
    Dan Finley took out his handcuffs, snapped one around Cora’s wrist. “Sorry. Just doing my job. Cora Felton, you are under arrest for the murder of Benny Southstreet.”
    Cora’s mouth fell open. “What!?”
    “You have the right to remain silent. Should you give up the right to remain silent—”
    Cora gave up the right to remain silent. Neighbors down the road could attest to the fact, as well as to the colorful metaphors and similes and malapropisms with which she congratulated the officers on their chosen profession, and suggested truly ingenious uses they might find for their warrant.

One week earlier.
    “C ONGRATULATIONS! ” Harvey Beerbaum was beaming. The portly cruciverbalist could not have been more pleased had he just won the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament.
    Cora Felton, emerging from Cushman’s Bake Shop with a skim latte and a cranberry scone, stopped and frowned. “Congratulations on what?”
    “The wedding, of course.”
    Cora suppressed a smile. Harvey Beerbaum was a whiz with words, but amazingly gauche at social graces. “Sherry’s not my daughter, she’s my niece. I’m not sure I deserve congratulations.”
    “Well, you deserve something. It’s a momentous occasion.”
    “It’s not
my
occasion. Sherry’s the one getting married, not me.”
    “That’s hardly my fault,” Harvey observed, then blushed furiously.
    Cora figured that was probably true. While Harvey had never actually proposed marriage to her, in his tentative, roundabout, thoroughly exasperating manner, he had certainly indicated his eagerness to do so, given the slightest encouragement. Cora was fairly sure