Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

I’m Lieutenant Deviled Yeggs.  I work homicide in the big city of Tracy.  Working for me are my old partners: Detective Sgt. Jim Wednesday and Detective Poached Yeggs, my nephew who is slowly becoming a good detective.

And also here was my daughter, Sophie, who was Captain Hart’s favorite “detective” and freshly promoted to sophomore at Vitamin Flintheart High School.  She broke Margie’s heart when Margie went to softball camp and Sophie decided to play detective instead.  Why not?  She had the best closure rate in the department.  But then, she only puts her name to a case when she has figured it out.  The rest of us have to collect the evidence and figure it out as each case comes in.

At our morning meeting, I asked, “What do we have on our older cases that we could slip over to Sophie as Cold Cases?”

Jim shrugged, “I have this elderly woman, sixty-five years old, strangled with a belt.  Her name was LaVerne Sophia.  I have no possible suspect.  Woman who did very little outside of church activities.  Then, I have a sixty-year-old, female, strangled, different ligature, used a telephone cord.  Strange anyone has a landline these days.  Her name was Maxene Anglyn.”

Poached said, “I have another female who was strangled.  Yet a different ligature, a cord, maybe an old clothesline.”

Sophie started laughing, “And she was fifty-eight and her name was Patricia ‘Patty’ Marie.”

I scolded her.  “Sophie, we show respect for the dead.  We do not laugh.”

Sophie said, still laughing, “But Daddy, these murders have to be connected!”

Poached said, “Sophie got the name and age right, but unless she has been spying on the two of us, there is no way these things are connected.  Different neighborhoods, different churches that they went to.  Different ligatures being used.  Only thing that is the same is strangulation.  Nope, these cases are not connected.  The Maxene Anglyn case is with a lefty assailant.”

I turned to Sophie, who had regained her composure.  “Young lady, why do you think these cases are connected, and have you been spying on Jim and Poached?”

Sophie shook her head, “No, Daddy, it’s the names and relative ages.  I am thinking that the eventual suspect is named something like ‘Andrew’ something or ‘something’ Andrews or Andreas.  The three names are the first and middle names of the Andrews Sisters.  LaVerne was the oldest.  She died of cancer at fifty-five, or fifty-six.  She was five years older than Maxene, and Patty was the baby, two years younger than Maxene.”

Jim huffed, “But the Andrews sisters have been dead for decades, before your Dad was born.”

Sophie again shook her head.  “LaVerne was gone before Daddy was born, and they got a replacement for her for a couple of years, but they quit singing in the late sixties, after LaVerne died.  Maxene died in 95, and Patty died about ten-eleven years ago.”

Poached groaned, “I love you, Sophie.  You are a great little cousin, but how do you know so much about these ladies?”

Sophie sighed, “The Purple Four plus One have been asked to do an Andrews Sisters review this summer.  They have a quintet to back them up.  Of course, Emmett on the sax.  And they have to have a trumpet for Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.  Then they have a drummer, bass guitar, and a clarinet.  They are mostly college professors.  They are going to all the retirement centers and nursing homes in Tracy.  Come on, Daddy.  You have to know about it.  Mommy is singing one song or another every day, and we live in the same house.  At least, I think we live in the same house!  Daddy, have you moved out?!”

I growled, “Very funny, Sophie.  Your Mom told me that she had the summer off from work.  Since Pauline Niblick is pregnant, she thought she would take the course load this summer and then be on maternity leave through next summer.  Mashie is thinking of a trip overseas next summer.  I have heard her humming and occasionally singing, but I have not heard about their little singing group getting together.  I cannot slow your Mom down.  She is always into something, but she is always there at supper time, and more than half the time, she has cooked the meal.  But no, Sophie.  I have not moved out, and I do not like the insinuation!”

Everyone snickered.

I asked, “If you are right, how do you connect these women?”

Sophie closed her eyes for a minute.  “We look for choirs for women who are not at work.  They have time on their hands.  You said LaVerne did things at the church.  Maybe one was the choir.  Then, we see if they had tryouts with a community chorus.  Sometimes, those places take walk-ins and are glad to get voices.  Maybe voices that cannot carry a tune.”

Jim said, “LaVerne and Maxene were regulars at their church’s mother’s day out, even though neither got married.  There are two types of mother’s day out programs.  One is for new mothers.  They drop off their infants and use the free time to go shopping.  But the other type is for mothers after their kids have left for school.  They do crafts and stuff.  Usually something different every quarter.  We have a neighbor that has given us porcelain snowmen, oil paintings, macrame, whatever the craft is for that quarter.  It was that type that LaVerne and Maxene never missed.”

I looked at Poached.  He shrugged, “Patty was involved at church.  She was quite the cut-up, great personality.  I did not think to ask what programs she frequented, just the church members that were close to her.  A lot, since she was so outgoing.  I’ll call the church and see if they have that type of mother’s day out and if she was a regular.  I did not see a lot of craft stuff in her house.”

I nodded, “Let’s look into that.  Let’s get a schedule on these ladies.  Where they usually were each day of the week, special days each month.  Were they like Glyce, humming as they went about their business?  And remember the names Sophie mentioned.  Sophie, why last names of Andrews and Andreas?”

Sophie said, “The parents of the sisters were a Greek immigrant with the family name of Andreas, and a Norwegian American mother.  They changed their name to Andrews, just one letter different.”

“All right, guys, get to work.”

Poached said, “You know, Sophie.  These were not officially Cold Cases yet.  Thank you for your idea, but Jim and I are doing the legwork, and we get credit for the closure, if you are right.”

Then suddenly, the intercom came on.  Gisele was singing, “ ‘Bei mir bist du schön, please let me explain, Bei mir bist du schön means you’re grand.’  Sorry, Poached, I type in the statistics for the department.  You were stuck and ready to surrender the case.  Sophie gets the closure.”

Poached groaned, “But she doesn’t even work here!  She’s still in high school!”

Gisele replied, “As one of the Maxene’s in our group, I want this solved.  If you are wondering, Lilith is the main Maxene (Soprano).  Naomi is the only Patty (Mezzo Soprano), unless I or Menzie help out.  And then Menzie and Pink Lady are the LaVernes (Contralto).  Really, I think we could record Menzie singing all three parts.  This is a case about girl power.  Besides, Poached, I am the secretary of this outfit and I make sure you get paid.  And you may have forgotten, I am married to the Captain.  If the case is closed, it was Sophie’s case.  Do you like getting paid or should I send your check to Kiribati?”

Poached asked, “Where is that?”

Gisele giggled, “Kiribati is my choice, then.  So, get to work.  Sophie needs another case closure.  Girl Power!”

Poached looked at the ceiling.  I think he mumbled something about “Why me, Lord?”

I asked Sophie after they left.  “And what did Gisele sing when she came on?”

Sophie giggled, “The Andrews Sisters first big hit.  It was a Yiddish song written by Jacob Jacobs.”

I asked, “And how do you know all this stuff?”

Sophie looked serious for just a moment, “Daddy, are you sure we live in the same house?”

I rubbed my forehead, “I’m starting to wonder.”  After we sat there for a while, not saying anything, I asked, “Sophie, if your idea is right, do we have a serial killer on our hands?”

Sophie shrugged, “There were no other sisters.  Between LaVerne and Maxene, they had a girl named Anglyn, but she died after eight months.  That’s why there are five years between LaVerne and Maxene.  But if this person is targeting people with similar names to former singers, it might continue.  If he had a reason to kill these three, maybe it’s over.  Heaven help us if he starts on the Lennon Sister names next.”

When Jim and Poached found the right person at the churches who handled the mother’s day out activities, one activity jumped out at them.  They each had a voice coach who had a class on jazz and big band singing.  They confirmed that the three ladies all took that activity.

With a little digging, they found out that the voice coach was Andrew Best.  He had a community choir.  To drum up new singers, he did the voice coach thing at churches.  But within the large community choir, he had those that he really liked.  He called them “Andrew’s Best.”

So far, this was all circumstantial.  They each took a class on singing music of the same era as the Andrews sisters.  No motive.  No conflict.  No real evidence that the “sisters” ever met each other.

Jim decided that he needed an extracurricular activity to while the time.  Tuesday Wednesday, Jim’s wife, was still mourning the miscarriage, and she had still not returned to work.  She took care of Holiday Wednesday all day and played with Thursday, Friday, and Saturday until bedtime.  She hardly talked to her husband.  For now, he would give her a lot of space while he went to a community choir directed by Andrew Best.

During the breaks where they had juice, tea, and coffee, he talked to the other singers.  All three murdered ladies had been in the choir.  None of them were very good, but they thought they were wonderful.

Some said that Patty could not carry a tune in a bucket, but others bristled at that.  They said she simply was flat on occasion.

Maxene was a wonderful singer if you didn’t mind her coming in a half beat ahead of everyone else, or a beat behind everyone else.  They had kept telling her to tap her foot, but she could not even do that without getting out of step, no rhythm at all.

As for LaVerne, her voice cracked.  Maybe she had some breathing problems, but when she went to hold a note, it would start off sounding like an angel and ended up sounding like a frog.

There was one lady named Betsie that was giving Jim the eye.  He had not worn his wedding ring on purpose.  She started to flirt.  Jim acted like he didn’t mind.  He finally got the conversation around to how Andrew Best felt about the three ladies who had been murdered.

Betsie replied, “How do you think he felt?  They interrupted practice to ask Andrew if he was taking auditions for Andrew’s Best.  Andrew was irritated with all three of them and had said he was going to encourage them not to come back to the choir.  That was bold of him to say that since the choir was dwindling.  He had gone to church choirs and other gatherings to advertise, but not many people like the music we sing.  Not anymore.”

Jim now had a motive and an opportunity of sorts.  Did Andrew Best go to their houses to talk to them or to kill them?  Or, once he killed LaVerne, did it become his intent with the other two?

Then, Jim noticed during a refreshment break, someone had brought a cake, one of the singer’s birthdays.  Jim noticed that Andrew picked up his fork with the left hand, and then later with the right hand.  Then Jim remembered that Andrew had raised his hand to direct the choir, using one hand or the other depending on what his other hand was doing, flipping the page of his sheet music or scratching his nose.  He seemed to be ambidextrous.

They brought him in for questioning.  He played it cool.  He said he loved all three ladies.  He was considering them for his Andrew’s Best group.  He bristled at the comments that the choir members made about their lack of talent or how he personally was going to kick them out of the choir.  He said that was absurd.  But he did accept a glass of ice water.  He was polite enough to thank us for it.  But now we had his DNA and his fingerprints.

LaVerne had been murdered with a belt, one of her belts.  She must have been exchanging wardrobes, from winter to summer.  There was DNA and a thumb print on the belt, but neither matched anything in their system.

Maxene was murdered with a telephone cord.  She had one of those wireless systems with four phones, but the telephone connection was in the living room.  The murderer had disconnected the wire from the voice mail box, leaving fingerprints, only a couple on the sides of the voice mail box.

The clothesline in Patty’s living room, fresh from the package and never used, except to kill her, had the murderer’s blood on it, enough for more DNA.

In each case Andrew Best had left the murder weapon behind.  He had thought that leaving with a woman’s belt, a telephone wire or a clothesline would look suspicious if neighbors saw him.  But leaving them behind was his undoing.

With all three cases in the D.A. office, Sophie went by Gisele’s office.  “Aunt Gisele, Jim Wednesday has been going through some rough times.  He went to the choir rehearsals on his own time to get the evidence we needed on all three murders.  Can you give him the three closures?  It might brighten his day a bit.”

Jim must have heard.  When Sophie came back into the squad room, Jim was smiling, and he had wet eyes.

Credits

My wife loved Mother’s Day Out.  She learned calligraphy, rubber stamping, oil painting, and firing porcelain.  I think she picked up knitting by joining a church knitting group instead of Mother’s Day Out.  I have her oil painting behind the printer, and the only porcelain snowman that is finished is stowed with tea sets.  But the three snowmen show the process.  One is complete; one is painted but not fired; and one has not been painted.

My wife sang in several community choirs.  We both got up when they called for extra voices singing the Hallelujah Chorus at another community choir – with no practicing, but at the time my wife and I had learned our parts with no need of practice.

I have experienced all three complaints about the three singers from choir directors and choir members.  The angelic turning into a frog just meant that person would not be singing solos, but then again, hopefully singing so low that no one noticed.  Most choir directors let the sour singer continue on unless … 1) They influenced others to sing the sour note or 2) there were not enough good singers to drown them out.

But we had a choir director in Germany who was a stickler for timing, a lieutenant colonel’s wife.  We were great at starting on time, but she became enraged when we finished with a consonant individually as we ran out of breath.  While “t-t-tt-t-t” was irritating to her, “s-s-s-s … s-s” was much worse.

And now for at least the two Andrews Sisters songs that were mentioned in the story.

Here are the Andrews Sisters singing Bei Mir Bist Du Schön.

Here are the Andrews Sisters singing Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.