Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [68]
Markum nodded. “You’ve got a point. Now I’m not generally a trusting soul, but why did I so readily accept the fact that man was out of the country? Harrison, my friend, perhaps it’s time I went into another line of work. If my internal lie detector isn’t working, I don’t have a chance doing what I do.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I said. “This isn’t one of your business adventures.”
“No, but it’s turned out to be some kind of twisted hobby, hasn’t it? So what’s the complete list? Who do we think might have had a hand in this?”
I took a paper bag from under the counter, the type Belle had used before I took over. I’d switched over to plastic because it was cheaper to print our candlelit logo, but Eve preferred the old style, so we kept both at the register, at least until we ran out of the paper. “Let’s list our suspects,” I said. “First, there’s Hans.”
“I don’t agree he’s number one, at least not by himself,” Markum said.
“This isn’t in any particular order, but if it will make you feel better, we’ll put Runion first.” I squeezed Runion’s name in on top of Hans’s, then jotted down Martin Graybill’s name.
“Who’s this character?”
I explained to Markum, “He owns a restaurant on the block Runion wanted to buy. The man’s pretty desperate to move out of town, and Gretel’s refusal killed that dream.”
“Okay, he can stay. Don’t forget your Mrs. Jorgenson. She needs to be on that list, too.”
“Come on, do you really think she could have done it? I don’t believe it. If nothing else, I can’t see her dressing up as a clown and shooting someone. You don’t know her as well as I do. It would be beneath her.”
Markum tapped the bag. “We’re just hypothesizing here, remember? Besides, she could have paid someone to do it. Put her down.”
I reluctantly wrote down “Mrs. J,” then said, “Who else does that leave? There’s an investor in Minnesota who owns part of that block, but from what I understand, he’s never even been here. At least that’s what Runion said. So where does that leave us?”
Markum studied the list, then said, “Well, I’m pretty sure Pearly didn’t do it, and I think we can rule you out as well. You couldn’t very well be in two places at once, dressed up as a clown and running your booth at the same time.”
“Gee, thanks for your support,” I said.
He smiled. “Come on, Harrison, I’m kidding. I don’t think Jubal killed her; he didn’t have any motive since she left him squat, so that should wrap up our list.”
I studied it a moment, then added one last question mark. Markum said, “Who’s that for?”
“There could be somebody involved in this that we don’t know about, someone with a grudge against Gretel from another time and place in her life.”
Markum took the pen from me and scratched through it.
“Why’d you do that?” I asked.
“Harrison, if somebody killed her we don’t even know about, there’s not a prayer in the world we’ll find him, so it’s not all that productive to spend time worrying about it, is it?”
I had to agree with his logic. I looked at the list again and studied the names: Runion, Hans, Graybill and Jorgensen. “So as far as we’re concerned, it’s one of these four.”
“Like I said, I’ve got my money on Runion,” Markum said.
“And I think Hans did it,” I said. “It would help if I knew exactly where he was.” I shook my head. “I just don’t know what good it’s going to do us. I’ve been digging into everyone’s life who’s been connected to Gretel since the newspaper accused me of killing her. What else can we do?”
Markum said, “I’ll tell you exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to go have a talk with Runion myself. I’ve got a feeling I might be able to get more out of him than you did, no offense.”
“None taken,” I said. “You’re more than welcome to try.”