Insatiable Appetites

51

Bruce Willard woke at his usual 6:30 AM, brushed his teeth, then went to his little kitchen and made coffee, poured orange juice, and toasted himself a muffin, as he did every day of the week, except weekends, when he made himself scrambled eggs and bacon.

He retrieved the Washington Post and the New York Times from his front doorstep, then went upstairs and took his tray back to bed. At the stroke of seven AM he switched on the TV to the morning CBS TV show and watched as he ate his muffin and sipped his coffee. He finished with the orange juice just as the network handed off to the local news show. A beautiful young woman gazed into the camera and read from a teleprompter:

“Last night at the swank Georgetown Four Seasons Hotel, a well-known lobbyist and security expert, Creed Harker, died in the men’s room of the hotel’s restaurant, apparently at his own hand.” They switched to tape of the police officer Bruce had spoken with the evening before. “This is only preliminary,” the detective was saying, “but we found Mr. Harker’s body locked in a men’s room stall. He had received a gunshot wound that appears to have been self-inflicted. We found a loaded semiautomatic pistol on the floor beside his body, and his fingerprints were on the gun. A single shot had been fired.”

Bruce gulped his orange juice. This could not be happening.

At police headquarters, Detective Avery Morris was called into his captain’s office, along with his partner and their lieutenant.

“Are we ready to wrap this up?” the captain asked.

The lieutenant turned to Morris. “Avery? Bring us up to date.”

Morris nodded. “We processed the men’s room last night and found nothing to indicate the presence of anyone but Creed Harker in the stall. The gun contained only Harker’s fingerprints. The medical examiner did the autopsy early this morning, and he reports that Harker’s wound was consistent with a self-inflicted gunshot.”

“Well, that’s it,” the captain said, “in the absence of any other evidence.”

Morris removed a plastic evidence bag containing a handkerchief from his pocket. “We did come up with one thing that I haven’t been able to explain. We searched the various trash cans in the lobby, which was routine, and just outside the front door we found a man’s handkerchief, neatly folded.”

“Anything odd about it?”

“It’s made of a very fine linen and appears to have some age on it. It had been starched and ironed and it had oily stains that might be gun oil, as if it had been used to wipe a gun clean of fingerprints. It bears no manufacturer’s label and no laundry marks, indicating to me that it was custom-made and had only been laundered and ironed in the home.”

“Well, shit,” the captain said, “I was hoping that we could announce to the press that this case is closed. No indication of who it might have belonged to?”

“There was an elderly man sitting near the men’s room, who left the hotel by that entrance. He might have thrown it away as he left the hotel.”

“Who was he?”

Morris read from his notebook. “A Mr. Elton, apparently.”

“Did anyone see this Mr. Elton deposit the handkerchief in the trash can?”

“There are no witnesses to that effect.”

“So, it could have been deposited there by anyone leaving or arriving at the hotel at any time?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Well,” the captain said, “in my book it’s not evidence, since it has no identifying marks and no witness who can connect it with any person.”

“I’m inclined to agree, Captain,” Morris said. “I just thought I ought to mention it.”

“What about the gun Harker used? Was it registered to him?”

“No, sir, the serial number tells us it was sold to the U.S. Army in 1949. It’s a .45 Colt, of a size that makes it issued to general officers. Army records are not computerized back that far, and I have no reason to think that a paper trail exists. However, Harker’s secretary told us that he collected weapons of various kinds, and it could very well have been part of his collection.”

“Okay, we’ve pursued this case to its natural conclusion,” the captain said. “Death was by self-inflicted gunshot wound, using the man’s own gun. I’ll announce it to the press at my noon media conference. Any objections from anybody?”

Nobody spoke.