Archie Goes Home

Chapter 21

I walked out of the police station that balmy June evening wondering why I was staying in town. There was my mother, of course, but the chances were strong that I would be seeing her in New York in the autumn. It was true I was suspicious — damned suspicious — of how Logan Mulgrew met his end, but so what?

Other than Katie Padgett and Aunt Edna, nobody I was aware of seemed to care why and how Mulgrew died. As I told Blankenship, I had no client, so there was no money to be made in the pursuit of what could be termed a pointless exercise. And I risked causing my mother embarrassment by hanging around and upsetting not only the local constabulary but others in the community as well, some of whom surely resented the presence of a “city slicker” in their midst.

When I got back to the house, my mother greeted me as I walked into the living room. “You have been gone a long time, not that it is any of my business. Is everything all right?”

“It has been suggested by Chief Tom Blankenship that I have worn out my welcome here,” I said, dropping into a wing chair and rubbing my sore shoulder. “And I believe that the man may be right.”

“Well, you certainly haven’t worn it out as far as I am concerned!” she told me. “Is the chief upset because you have continued looking into Mr. Mulgrew’s death?”

“He is indeed. And I’m beginning to wonder why I am spending so much time on all this.”

“Well, while you continue your wondering, I should mention that you have had two telephone calls: Miss Padgett, or Katie, as you now refer to her, phoned, wondering why she hasn’t heard from you and asked that you call her; and your aunt Edna, which shouldn’t surprise you. She tried to make it sound like she was inquiring as to my health, but my dear sister is really quite transparent. After I assured her that I was just fine, thank you, she said: ‘Should I assume that Archie is still staying with you?’

“I told her you were and asked if she would like you to telephone her. The response: ‘Oh yes, that would be very nice. I do like talking to him.’”

“I’m afraid my presence here has turned you into an unpaid answering service, and I’m sorry.”

She waved my comment away. “Don’t worry yourself one bit. I am rather enjoying the intrigue, if that is what you call it.”

“That’s as good a word as any,” I said. “I suppose I should get in touch with these two ladies.”

“I will leave you to make your calls in private,” my mother said.

“Not necessary,” I answered, but she went upstairs anyway, and I telephoned Katie Padgett.

“Archie! I wondered why I haven’t heard from you. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Have you found out anything new about... you know?”

“No, I find myself pretty much at a dead end.”

“Well, I have some wonderful news — at least I’m sure you will think it’s wonderful. The Trumpet has a new managing editor, Martin Chase, who wants to shake things up. He’s under thirty, and he comes from a little paper in Kentucky; and though the Trumpet isn’t all that big itself, the move is a step up for him. He wants to win a Pulitzer here. ‘Small papers from places like Lost Gulch, Arizona, really do win them sometimes,’ he says.”

“Sounds like a man who has got big plans.”

“I’ll say, and just listen to this: I’ve pitched him the idea that I do a long feature, or maybe even a series of pieces, called ‘The Mystery of Logan Mulgrew’s Death,’ in which I talk about all the people who could have wanted him dead. And he likes the idea!”

“Interesting, but don’t you — and the Trumpet — risk running into legal problems by bringing in all these names as potential suspects?”

“Martin says it’s all in how we handle it. That doesn’t trouble him in the least. I’m going to start writing today. I’m really excited.”

“Do you still think Carrie Yeager is guilty?”

“Absolutely, Archie.”

“Will your writing reflect that?”

“That is an excellent question. I told Martin about her, and he feels we should present all the suspects — and you know who they are — equally, to heighten the mystery.”

“This man sounds like he should be working for one of New York’s tabloid dailies.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that’s his ultimate goal,” Katie said. “By the way, one of my first calls on this assignment for Martin was to Donna Newman, who believes as I do that Carrie killed Mulgrew. She wanted me to tell you that she’s sorry she called Chief Blankenship to complain about you. She said she overreacted to your questions. Did the chief ever talk to you about that?”

“He did. In fact, we have talked again since my visit to her.”

“Really? Anything I should know about?” Katie asked in an excited tone.

“I don’t think so. Chief Blankenship would be happy if I went back to New York, though.”

“Are you planning to go?” This time, I couldn’t tell if her tone was excitement, disappointment, or something in between.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet; I will let you know.”

“Please do, Archie. I would miss you. But I have to go now, I have lots to do.”

Next, I put in a call to Aunt Edna. “Archie, I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to. I have something to tell you.”

“I am all ears, as they say.”

She cleared her throat, perhaps as a preamble to news. “It seems there’s a growing feeling around town that Carrie Yeager killed Logan Mulgrew.”

“Really? How have you happened to pick up this information?”

Another throat clearing. “I heard it from three different people at my bridge club yesterday, and this morning when I was at the dry cleaners, Mrs. Zeller told me she had been told by her dentist that the police could be charging the Yeager woman any time. It seems they’ve learned that she is living in Charleston, West Virginia.”

“Most interesting. Any idea what the source of these rumors is?”

“No, and I’m not sure that I would call them rumors, Archie. The talk appears to be so widespread that I have to wonder if the net isn’t closing in on Miss Yeager.”

“Have you talked to our favorite reporter about all this?” I asked.

“Oh yes. Miss Padgett says she has heard the same things, and from a number of sources. The story going around is that Carrie Yeager thought she would develop a permanent relationship with Mr. Mulgrew, and that he apparently discouraged such a relationship.”

“Do you believe that?”

“Well, it certainly sounds feasible. Logan Mulgrew was notorious for his fickle nature when it came to women.”

“Yet his wife stayed married to him for all those years.”

“She did, probably because she really had no other options,” Aunt Edna said firmly. “They never had children, so she did not have anybody else to run off to live with. And after all, whatever else Mulgrew was, he was a good provider of material things, and Sylvia is said to have lived well in that big old pile of brick and stone, at least until her health deserted her.”

“Do you have any idea whether Chief Blankenship has shown any interest in the case?”

“I don’t, although I can tell you this: Miss Padgett has confidentially told me — and I know I can trust you with this — that the Trumpet is planning a major story that may shed light on what really happened. It seems the paper has a new young editor who is not afraid of stirring things up.”

“That is very interesting, Aunt Edna. Do you care to make a prediction as to how all this will play out?”

“Oh dear, making predictions is hardly a specialty of mine, but since you asked, I have to wonder about Carrie Yeager, although I’m not ready to say she killed Logan Mulgrew. Right now, I’m really looking forward to the Trumpet story.”

“Has Miss Padgett told you whether she’s going to talk to the police chief for her story? It seems to me she can’t do this article without quoting him.”

“Archie, I do admit that I was curious about that very thing, but I didn’t ask her. I did not want to appear to be nosy.” Aunt Edna not wanting to appear nosy? That will be the day, I thought as I called to my mother, who was still upstairs. I craved another piece of that apple pie we had for dessert, and I thought she might want to join me. She did.