The Chocolate Clown Corpse by Carl Joanna

Author:Carl, Joanna [Carl, Joanna]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery & Detective, General, Women Sleuths, Fiction
ISBN: 9781101638484
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2014-11-04T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

The name Harry Vandercool seemed familiar to me, but I couldn’t place him. Neither could Joe. That might mean nothing in a larger community, but in a town of twenty-five hundred, it’s a little odd.

Joe looked him up online. He didn’t find out much. So we looked at the address in the phone book, and I figured out the name of someone I knew slightly who lived nearby. I called her. She didn’t know Harry Vandercool either, she said, but she knew who he was. Vandercool was one of the army of retirees who had moved to Warner Pier in recent years.

“He had some sort of business in Holland,” my informant said. “Retail, I think. Maybe.”

“Does he go to a church? Or belong to any clubs?”

“Not that I know of. I don’t think we’ve ever met. Not formally. He was at the property owners’ association meeting.”

Joe really likes to know some background about a witness before he interviews him, but he gave up and called Harry Vandercool cold.

Vandercool readily agreed to talk to him. He suggested that Joe come to his house the next morning. Then Joe got a surprised look on his face. “Lee? I’m sure she would come if she doesn’t have something already scheduled.”

Joe listened. Then he grinned. “Oh! Well, I’m sure she’d be glad to give you an update on the chocolate business in southwest Michigan. Let me ask her.”

Joe took the phone away from the side of his head and looked at me. “Are you available to go calling at ten o’clock tomorrow morning?”

“I guess so. But why?”

“It seems Harry Vandercool had Vandercool’s Chocolate in Grand Rapids until he retired.”

“Oh! He’s that Vandercool! I’ll be glad to talk to him.”

Joe confirmed the time and hung up. We both laughed. “I’ve never met Mr. Vandercool,” I said. “I didn’t know his first name, but Aunt Nettie has spoken of him.”

“Vandercool says you bought a cooling tunnel he sold when he retired.”

“We’re still using it.”

“He says we should come to his house. ‘That way we can look at the situation on the ground, so to speak.’”

“Sure. You can see how long it took him to walk over to Moe’s and other details like that.”

Harry Vandercool’s house was in a wooded area south of Warner Pier, off Lake Shore Drive. He was, like us, on the inland side. Lakefront property is extremely valuable these days, but ordinary people can manage to live in the area if they don’t insist on a lake view.

Harry was a bit farther away from the lakeshore than we are, maybe half a mile, on a lot with plenty of trees. His property was nice and neat. His house was painted white, with black shutters. His walks and even his driveway were bare of snow. And he had a real concrete walk and drive; none of this gravel stuff Joe and I use. There was a folksy Welcome sign beside the front door.

Harry Vandercool was clearly a man who would be bothered by a cottage that looked abandoned and neglected—especially right next door.

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