Finally, after lunch, the Captain’s door was open. Detective Cooper gathered his notes and walked the short distance. He leaned in and tapped on the door. The Captain had been turned toward the window. He swiveled around and Cooper saw that he was on the phone. But the Captain pointed to the chair and mouthed “just a minute”. Cooper reviewed his notes for the next minute until the call was over.
+++++Captain Taft smiled. He was a big man, reminiscent of a football player or former marine or both. Cooper was one of his best detectives, his problem solver. Although he would never admit it, Taft looked forward to the thorough yet succinct briefings.
+++++“What’s up, Jim?”
+++++“I think I’m ready to close this one, Cap. I just wanted you to be a second and last set of eyes and to authorize the arrest.”
+++++Taft leaned back and relaxed.
+++++“Dazzle me – as usual.”
+++++“Mrs. Ida Moore-Lively, deceased. She passed away last week. She was eighty-seven, community leader and philanthropist, lived with and cared for by her forty-two year old grandson, Stanley Seams – unemployed. Despite her age, the cause of death was given as anaphylactic shock.”
+++++Cooper paused for a moment.
+++++“Something didn’t feel right. I asked the Coroner to do a comprehensive work-up. I’ll come back to that in a moment. Three years ago, Mrs. Moore-Lively had a severe reaction at a family reunion picnic. She had enjoyed potluck Waldorf salad, not realizing until after a few bites that it contained raw apples. Fortunately, she always carried an eppie pin and tragedy was averted. One of the attendees was Stanley Seams.”
+++++“Mrs. Moore Lively apparently had a lifelong fondness for apples and a lifelong severe allergy. She was able to eat them cooked, and she was diligent about that – never eating them raw. Young itinerant Stanley moved in a year after the picnic. He has lousy credit and a minor criminal record. He claims he moved in to assist her but his statements are contradictory. For example, she had a long habit of visiting the public library twice a week. But it seems that Seams didn’t like doing this. In a short time, she was only going to the library once a week, and missing weeks, something she had never done before.”
+++++The two men looked at each other.
+++++“Some help, huh.” Captain Taft’s expression was pure disgust. “I’m guessing he didn’t do much of anything.”
+++++“To the contrary. He spent quite a lot of her money. Neighbors report seeing her cutting her lawn as she always did and shoveling snow in the winter. No one recalled ever seeing him outside working.” Detective Cooper continued. “Two months ago she changed her will. Last week, Stanley cooked dinner – something her friends said was unusual.”
+++++“Let me guess…”
+++++“Her stomach contents were pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, tea and applesauce. A detailed analysis of the applesauce showed that it was commercially available, off the shelf, but with tiny bits of raw apple pureed into it. We found a partial jar in the refrigerator, pure applesauce, no raw bits.” The detective paused. “The blender on the counter had been rinsed, but still contained apple pieces. It seems that Stan is as disappointing and inept as a killer as he is as a care provider.”
+++++The Captain leaned back and put his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling. As the wave of weariness that accompanied all murder came over him he started speaking.
+++++“I assume the change to the will resulted in greater benefits to Stanley?”
+++++“It did. Once someone is in your home, they can be relentless, like fleas or bedbugs.”
+++++“Murder by McIntosh. Killed by a Cortland. Offed by an Opal, done in by a Delicious. Harmed by a Honeycrisp…burned by a Braeburn, crisped by a Cripps. Zoned by a Zestar. I wonder if you could make it through the entire alphabet.”
+++++“Please don’t do Fuji.”
+++++The Captains eyes narrowed as he leaned intently forward.
+++++“Pick the little creep up today.”
+++++As Cooper left the office, a spring in his step, the Captain said, “Make sure he gets a side of applesauce with his meal in lock-up tonight. Even if you have to buy it yourself. I’ll pay you back.”
+++++“No, Sir, it will be my pleasure to give him a six pack.”

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Bill Suboski

Bill is an aspiring fiction writer with a background in computer programming. He is still trying to decide what he wants to be when he grows up. Born in Indiana, Bill is a transplanted Hoosier living as a Buckeye by way of Canada and the Netherlands

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• Murder Most Applely - February 21, 2022