The M&M’s Mystery Part 3

Over the next week, Mildred and I sat with as many different residents as possible during meals and spent time in the common room – learning names and room numbers and if they had any connection to Redwine. Turned out the gossip mill continued to churn merrily, so that last query generated a lot of discussion.

    In the midst of this, Nurse Wretched came to the table where I ate lunch, leaned over and spoke quietly in my ear, “I can see what you and Mildred are doing.”

    Oh, Lord, we’ve been caught!

    “I think it is extremely nice of you and Mildred to get to know all our residents better. I wish there were more like you.”

    My stomach descended into place, and after mumbling “Thanks,” I downed a glass of lemonade while my heart rate returned to normal. After lunch, I told Mildred what Norma had said to me.

    “She told me the same thing. I thought I would die right there with my face in the plate.” She laughed. “And we had gravy on the turkey and mashed potatoes!”

    “Okay, so Norma is fine with us. Let’s take stock of where we are.”
    We had both taken copious notes and over the next hour, we managed to eliminate all but two people. “I almost wish we had a larger suspect pool,” Mildred said, as we crossed off the last name.  

    “We’ve forgotten the people who work here! Norma, for example, and the receptionist, the nursing aides, and even Tony.”

    “Tony? Surely not!”

    “Well, think about it. He’d be happy for us to blame anyone other than him, so it would be in his interest to be helpful.” I paused at that moment and luckily I did, because right then, Tony appeared at our door with the list of Redwine’s and Massey’s visitors for the last three months.

    “How’s your investigation going, ladies?”

    “We’ve managed to winnow down the likely suspects. Thanks for this list, Tony. I hope you didn’t have any problems.”

    Tony smiled, showing dazzling white teeth. “Nah, that receptionist spends more time smoking out back than manning the desk.” After a pregnant pause, he asked, “You got any more of those Nutty Buddies?”

    “Sure.” I went into the closet and pulled out another pack. “There you go, and thanks again.”

    Tony smiled and left the door ajar as he left the room, whistling as he walked down the hall.

    “A bad rendition of Mozart’s Concerto for Bassoon, if I’m right.”

    “Dang, Mildred, where did you learn all this stuff?”

    She just smiled and said, “Over the years. My husband played classical music all the time at home.”

    Tony’s list didn’t provide a lot of help. It included only family members, based on the last name. Two men with the name Redwine, possibly sons, and one woman with the last name of Copper, a married daughter? I added those names to our list. “Time to Google.”

    Over the next hour, we first searched for information on the two residents still on our list: Lorraine Pringle, widow of Arthur, who lived in Room 206, and Joseph Entwhistle, Room 214. Lorraine had played the oboe in an orchestra for musical theater in Boston. Entwhistle had practiced law. While I could see where Redwine’s life might have intersected with Lorraine’s, I wondered what his connection was to our lawyer.

    “What kind of law did Mr. Entwhistle practice?” asked Mildred.

     More key tapping. “Looks like personal property and real estate lawsuits.”

    “Can we look up lawsuits against Redwine if we pay for a search? Maybe Entwhistle was one of the lawyers.”

    “For just $19.99…” I joked. “Yes, but we’ll have to subscribe.” I looked at several sites and with Mildred’s consent, subscribed to BackgroundSearch.com. I found two lawsuits against Redwine, one for plagiarism and one for property theft. Seems our maestro’s life had had its problems. Public records showed Redwine had been sued of stealing a composer’s symphony, but the suit had been dismissed. And one of his two sons had sued his father over the distribution of his real estate, prior to Redwine’s arrival at Rest Easy. Entwhistle figured in neither suit.

    Mildred took notes as I read off the computer screen. “From what I know from my work in the law firm,” she said, “suits for musical plagiarism are a dime a dozen. And the person suing almost never wins. Okay, so the suit filed by one of Redwine’s sons is our main lead. Did the son win the case?”

    More clicking of keys. “Yup, and the other son has launched an appeal. No love lost there.” I moved on to the widowed Ms. Pringle, finding very little. She’d lived an exemplary life, not even a parking ticket. And no connection to Redwine through her music, so we exonerated her.

    “Let’s look at the visitor list. Which one of the sons visited Redwine?”

    Mildred glanced at Tony’s list. “Both, it seems.”

    “That’s weird.”

    “DINNER IN 10 MINUTES. TURKEY DELIGHT AND SALAD.”

     We both groaned.

******

    Next, we used our ‘getting to know you’ approach to gather information on Rest Easy employees. Norma seemed inordinately pleased with our effort and nicknamed us the M and M’s. What a hoot!

    I googled the employees and the female visitor, who turned out to be Massey’s daughter.  “She’s clean…” I told Mildred, shutting down the search, “…as well as everyone else on our list.    Maybe we missed something.”

    “What about Tony?”

    “A dead end. I can’t find him anywhere online,” I replied. “It’s like he doesn’t exist. No driver’s license, no address, or birth date. He’s a non-person.”

    “Well, buck up, cream puff. We’ve still got three likely murderers. The two sons and Tony. Funny that the sons would visit their father if they’re all suing each other. So where do we go from here?”

    “Tony told me the police have cleared Redwine’s room as a crime scene. The sons will come to pick up their father’s belongings tomorrow – maybe we could approach them then?”

******

    We hung around in our room the following morning, peering out our half-opened door. Around eleven, Tony came down the hall, whistling a classical tune, key in hand. He opened the door to room 208 for the two men who followed on his heels and left, luckily for us, without shutting the door. 

    Mildred wheeled quietly across the hall and I followed.

    “I miss him, the old bugger,” we heard a tenor voice say.

    “Me, too.” After a pause, this deeper voice said, “I’m sorry for the lawsuit, Mason. I never should have filed it. I should have just sat down with you and Dad at the outset and not assumed the worst.”

    “Well, you did sit down with us, so at least our last few times together with him are happy memories. We both forgave you…”

   We heard some rustling which I assumed meant a hug or a grab around the shoulders. “Should we go in?” I whispered to Mildred. “Sounds like any reason for murdering their father has evaporated.”

   “Maybe one of them is lying,” she whispered back.

    I gave Mildred a thumbs up and we entered the room, finding the two men, sitting side by side on one bed. They both had their father’s high forehead and weak chin, and they stared at us, puzzled.

    “Hello, I’m Miriam Gardner and this is Mildred Wrightnour. We live across the hall. We wanted to offer our condolences.”

    “Yes, we do miss his lovely music,” Mildred added.

    Both men stood. “Thank you,” said the tenor voice. “I’m Mason Redwine. This is my brother Barry.”

    “Do you know if the police have made any progress in finding your father’s killer?” I asked. “We certainly don’t feel safe here anymore.”

    “You know we can’t lock our doors at night,” Mildred said, arranging her face into a look of concern.

    Mason shrugged. “The police are as clueless as we are, ladies. I’m truly sorry you feel unsafe. I just can’t imagine who would want to do something so…brutal to our father.”

    “Is there anyone from his past life or even someone here, at Rest Easy, who would wish him harm?” Mildred asked.

    Mason and Barry looked at each other and then shook their heads. “No, he didn’t have an unkind word to say about anyone here…” Barry replied, “…except maybe for the people who forced a curfew on his music. But he never discovered who instigated it.”

    Thank heavens for that. For months I had dreaded the thought of facing Redwine. Mildred and I repeated our sympathy and retreated to our room.

    “Well, that’s it, damn,” she said. “It has to be Tony. I say we confront him.”

    “Why? He’s just going to deny it.”

    “But there are little tells that lying people have. I learned all about them from Forensic Files.”

    “Like what?” I asked her, plopping down on the bed.

    “Their lips tighten, their eyes dart around, and they blink. Right-handed people look up and to the right…or is it down and to the left?” She demonstrated. “Anyway, with both of us looking right at him, he’s bound to give something away.”

    I thought for a minute. “Okay. Let’s try it. I’ll offer him another package of Little Debbies for…what?”

    “Information on Nurse Wretched. She must yell for him twenty times a day.”

&&&&&&

Coming up – the mystery is solved!