Read Murder at the Book Fair Online

Authors: Steve Demaree

Tags: #Maraya21, #Literature & Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #Thriller & Suspense, #mystery, #Cozy

Murder at the Book Fair (7 page)

BOOK: Murder at the Book Fair
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"When Amelia died, her will,
which I drew up, allowed for Cyril to inherit vast millions of dollars, while
her other two children received $50,000 each, which both of them went through
quickly. When Cyril wouldn't dish out another $50,000 they grew even more
distant. If that was possible. I think he sees them only once a year. Both
Archie and Hazel make it a point to come to each Kentucky Book Fair and to buy
a book from each author seated near their brother without acknowledging that he
is there."

"I assume that Portwood left
a will?"

"He did. And I drew up his
will, too."

"How did his brother and
sister fare?"

"They each will receive
another $50,000, although I doubt if either of them has any idea whether they
will receive all of his fortune or none of it. He left $100,000 to his
next-door neighbor, Millie Longacre, and $25,000 to Bob Barney, his neighbor
across the road. He relegated another sum of money so that each library in the
state and each middle and high school in the state will receive two copies of
each of his books, of which there are seventeen. His property goes to Miss
Longacre, and the rest of his money will be given to charities, with the bulk
of it going to the American Cancer Society and Hospice of the
Bluegrass
."

"Do you know if Miss Longacre
or Mr. Barney know that they will inherit something?"

"I suspect that Miss Longacre
does, but I don't know that for a fact."

"How long ago did you draw up
this will?"

"It was a few years ago, but
we met the other day for lunch and he expressed an interest in changing it. I
was not in favor of that."

"Did he propose his changes
to you?"

"He did. He talked of cutting
his siblings inheritance to one dollar, and reducing the amount he would be
giving to Miss Longacre. They had talked of marriage, but he told me he had
called off the wedding."

"Did he say to whom that
money would be going?"

"He was still thinking about
that. We were to get together again in a few weeks after he made up his
mind."

"On what day did you get
together with him?"

"It was Friday for lunch. We
went to Rick's White Light Diner. The owner of that place is even more of a
character than Cyril Portwood. And you can order alligator there, which could
save you a trip to
Louisiana
or
Florida
."

"At any time in the last few
days did he mention that he was upset with anyone, or that he would be seeing
someone and dreading the encounter?"

"He didn't mention anything
to me."

"Do you benefit from his
will?"

"Yes. He provided $50,000 for
me to do with however I see fit, and another $100,000 to see that his memory is
preserved. I'm not sure yet how to use that money. And speaking of money,
there's one thing that has always baffled me."

"What's that?"

"Each year I go over his
finances, after his CPA gets through with them, just to make sure everything
seems to line up. Well, each year he withdraws $50,000 cash from the bank, and
anytime I asked him what it was for he always told me a charity. Well, Cyril
was always willing to help out a charity, if he thought it was legitimate. And
he has always been willing to help those in need. Widows. People down on their
luck. A friend in need. Well, the other night when I confronted him again about
that, he said, 'Oh, I've decided I'm not giving to that charity anymore.'"

"I've decided I'm not giving
to that charity anymore."

"That's right. That's what he
said. But when I asked him to elaborate, he said the case was closed. I guess
we'll never find out where that money was going."

"When did he withdraw it each
year?"

"Usually the first part of
October. And earlier this fall he said he was giving the $50,000 this time, but
no more."

"Do you think anyone was
blackmailing him?"

"I doubt it. Knowing Cyril Portwood,
if someone tried to blackmail him he would tell them to go ahead and spread the
dirt. It would probably help him sell more books. And although I was never
supposed to share this, Cyril Portwood never took a dime from his sales at the
Kentucky Book Fair."

"What about Millie Longacre,
or his brother or sister? Do you think he gave them the $50,000?"

"I think there's a lot better
chance that he gave it to her than to his siblings."

"I was wondering, because he
said he wasn't giving to that charity anymore, and he planned to cut the three
of them from the will."

"Not cut them from the will,
just curtail the amount, and for his brother and sister it would have been a
serious curtailment."

"So, maybe one of them killed
him before he could change the will."

"That is if any of them knew
they were mentioned in the will and knew the will was about to be changed. And
then the charity could have been an actual charity. Maybe one he found out
wasn't on the up-and-up after all. I just wish I knew. Of course, I doubt if
this had anything to do with his death. Besides, I assume he gave the money
this year, and whoever received it won't be expecting any more before next
October. That's a long time for Cyril Portwood to change his mind, which he was
prone to do from time to time. He would fly off the handle at someone and be
their best friend again before the sun went down. That's one of the reasons I
wanted him to hold off on changing his will."

"Is it possible he gambled
the $50,000? Maybe he went to Vegas or played in a poker tournament?"

"I don't think so. And Cyril
never went anywhere in October, unless he went to Gatlinburg for a few days,
and he didn't do that every year. But he withdrew the money every year, at
least for the last several years. I don't know how many but I can have my
assistant look it up if you need to know for sure. Now, is there anything else
you need? My next appointment should be here in a few minutes."

I told McHugh that was all and
thanked him for his time. I told him I would call if I thought of anything
else. He told me that would be fine. He wanted me to find out who murdered his
friend.

Now all I had to figure out is if
the money I am to follow were the millions that Portwood had, or the $50,000
that someone pocketed each year. Or did the money have nothing to do with his
death?

 

 

12

 

 

A few minutes later we learned
that Connie Crowe is the only full-time employee of the Kentucky Book Fair.
There is a board that governs the book fair, and a large group of volunteers
that help make the event as seamless as possible. Mrs. Crowe took a few minutes
telling us about the event we had just attended for the first time and then
answered our questions. She knew Col. Portwood and was sorry to hear about his
death, and sorrier still that whoever killed him might have done so at the Book
Fair.

She told us that some of the books
sold at the book fair are shipped to the KBF, while some authors prefer to
deliver their books themselves. Portwood delivered his books on Thursday and
then left. Jenny Luscher is the KBF's treasurer, and Mrs. Crowe said that Miss
Luscher checked in Portwood's books that day.

She went on to tell me that school
groups and librarians can come to the Convention Center to purchase books on
Friday, but most of the authors who are there for that event write children's
books.

She confirmed that Portwood
donated all of his proceeds from the event to the KBF, but the $50,000 Portwood
withdrew from his bank each year didn't go to the KBF.

When she got back to telling me
about the chronological order of the events at the KBF, Lou and I learned that
on Friday night the KBF has an authors' reception, and many of the authors take
part. I asked her if Portwood attended and she told me he was there, and that
the event was held at the Paul Sawyier Public Library. She wasn't aware of any
animosity at the event. I asked her if maybe something had happened beforehand,
and she said I should ask some of the authors who rode the same shuttle to the
event that Portwood rode. She also told me that one of the board members, Diana
Munson, was at a table in the Capital Plaza Hotel when authors came down from
their rooms to ride the shuttle, and I could contact her too to see if she knew
of anything out of the way that might have happened. She went on to say that
authors are advised to arrive early on Saturday morning and most authors stay
until the event ends at
4:30
. Miss Luscher would be able to
tell us when Portwood left, but may or may not know if he left alone. Mrs.
Crowe said she has so much on her plate during the event that she only saw
Portwood a couple of times during the day, and nothing about him seemed out of
the ordinary. She said that volunteers are assigned to each row of authors and
are there to help the author whenever they need something, like a bottle of
water. Also, the KBF provides lunch for all of the authors. Mrs. Crowe
suggested that I check with Amy Smith, who is in charge of getting volunteers
for the event. Mrs. Smith would be able to tell me which volunteers worked more
closely with Portwood and those authors seated on the same row. I asked her if
any author felt snubbed who didn't get invited to the event and she told me she
wasn't aware of any, but then picked up her phone and called her mother-in-law,
Linda Crowe, who was in charge of the author selection committee. Linda Crowe
echoed her daughter-in-law's words. Both women agreed that anyone who is not
selected for the event is disappointed, but none who weren't selected seemed so
much so that he or she should be considered a murder suspect. Connie Crowe
provided me with phone numbers for Miss Luscher, Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Munson,
and Lou and I left with three more people on our contact list. Maybe someone
would give us the name of someone they saw administer the poison. 

  

+++

 

"Well, Lou, after talking to
McHugh and Mrs. Crowe we know a little more about what Portwood did the last
part of the week."

"And I know that I wasn't the
recipient of Portwood's $50,000 each year."

"I was about to ask you if
you are holding out on me."

"Only about the fact that
I've solved most of our cases before you do."

"In your dreams, Lou. In your
dreams."

"How did you know that?"

"Moving along, what else do
you know about Portwood that doesn't have anything to do with the money."

"Well, Cy, I know that what
he did that week didn't match what he had written in his journal. It wasn't
like he knew he was going to keel over and he wanted someone to find the
journal and think he led a more interesting life than he did. Do you think it
was Walter Mitty's journal?"

"No, I think we can rule him
out. I don't think he sneaked over to Portwood's garage and slipped it under
the front seat of his car after he was dead."

"What about one of his
neighbors? Do you think one of them did it?"

"Well, Lou, that would only make
sense if that neighbor needed an alibi. We know he didn't die until he got
home. Well, we know that unless someone drove him home, and there's no evidence
of that. So, it doesn't make sense that one of the neighbors did it. So, why
was the journal inaccurate? I mean some things were right, but others were
wrong. He died on a day that the right entries were made. And did Portwood hide
the journal under the seat so a certain someone couldn't find it, or did it
fall onto the floorboard and slide back under the seat?"

"That's a lot of questions
and they all puzzle me. If what was written was something glorifying Portwood I
might see why he would make up that stuff. Why was some of it right and the
rest of it not?"

"Maybe it was what he was
expecting to do, and his plans got changed when he got sick. Maybe he knew that
he was going to be busy that week and didn't want to have to write things down
and take away from his time. And maybe he just wrote it for himself, so he
wouldn't forget to do something he wanted to do. There wasn't any dirt on
anyone, and no bragging, either. Maybe it was just for him to remind himself to
do the things he had planned to do. But, now that I think about it, I don't
think it was to save time. How long does it take to write a few sentences in a
journal, particularly if writing is what you do for a living?"

"That's a lot of maybes, Cy.
We know that he did drop off his books on Thursday morning like the journal
says, and he did attend the Author's Reception on Friday night at the library.
And of course he was there to sign books on Saturday, but the journal entries
ended before the event."

"But we're not sure if the
rest of his Thursday notes are accurate, and nothing was mentioned about him
meeting his lawyer for lunch on Friday. Friday's notation was something
entirely different."

"And it isn't like his lawyer
didn't want us to know they had met. He admitted that to us. But then we have
only the lawyer's word that they did meet for lunch."

BOOK: Murder at the Book Fair
13.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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