The Deadly Puzzle

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Dr. Fredrick Rhineman, impeccably dressed in a tan Armani suit, with a white herringbone-striped shirt and a paisley Gucci tie, was holding number-ten white business envelopes in his well-manicured hands. He placed the white envelopes on top of an over-sized brown manila envelope on his desk. Dr. Rhineman was in his plush, richly decorated office on the tenth floor of a commercial building in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.

He stepped over to a large oak bookcase. From the bottom shelf, he removed a packet of colored paper. It contained sheets of red eight-by-eleven twenty-pound paper. He put it on his walnut desk, removing two sheets of paper. On both paper sheets, he drew an image of a claim check. Dr. Rhineman proceeded to cut one of the pieces of paper into jigsaw-like pieces. On each one he printed a number or a letter of the alphabet. He put one piece in each of the number-ten white envelopes, along with a message he’d composed earlier. An evil smirk disfigured his clean-shaven face. Dr. Rhineman was zealous about puzzle solving and well-known as a peerless stickler for detail.

The doctor’s intercom buzzed.

“Yes, Jean?”

“Dr. Rhineman, I know your orders, but this is the third time your brother’s called, and he insists on talking to you.”

“All right, I’ll talk to him.”

Dr. Rhineman frowned, and then picked up the telephone. “Hello?” He listened for a few seconds. “No! I’m not interested. I’ve told you not to call here.” He continued to listen. “I don’t care, Benny. I don’t want to get mixed up with you or any of your goddamn schemes!” he angrily snapped. As his brother kept talking the doctor became more and more upset. He held the phone away from his ear, his face flushed. He calmed himself, then put the phone back to his ear and spoke firmly. “No, Benny, and don’t ever bother me again.” He slammed the telephone down, sat there fuming and rubbed his chest.

Dr. Rhineman had just finished putting the small, jagged pieces of red paper into the envelopes when his secretary, Jean entered. She was a neatly dressed, gray-haired woman in her late fifties. She looked at him with concern. Then she stepped over to a small table with a silver tray, two glasses, a pitcher of water, and a little brown bottle of pills. Jean poured a glass of water, removed a tablet from the container, and walked over to him.

“Dr. Rhineman, you know what your physician told you about getting upset. It’s bad for your heart.” She handed him the pill and the glass of water. “You’d better take this. It’s hard to believe that someone who looks as healthy as you do has a bad heart.”

“Thank you, Jean. I shouldn’t talk to Benny. He irritates me; he’s always up to some slick deal.”

He swallowed the pill and handed the glass back to her. “Help me seal these envelopes. I’ve already addressed them.” They sealed the white envelopes and put them into the large manila envelope. “Jean put this envelope in the safe. If anything happens to me, please remove the letters inside and mail them immediately.” He emphasized the word “immediately.”

She took the manila envelope. “Your heart isn’t worse, is it?” she asked, with an anxious look.

He stood, smiling. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m not expecting to kick off any time soon. I want to make sure this matter’s taken care of, just in case,” indicating the envelope. “It’s very, very important to me.”

The doctor stepped out from behind his desk. “Now I’m going over to the club for lunch. I won’t be back today, as Senator Knowles is in town. He’s challenged me to a puzzle contest this afternoon. You know how I like to beat him. He always thinks he can assemble the puzzles faster than me.” He chuckled and started to leave the office, but turned back. “Don’t forget about that.” He pointed at the manila envelope again.

“I won’t. Good luck.”

Jean followed him out and into her office. She called the doorman to have the doctor’s car brought to the front door.

When he exited the office building, Dr. Rhineman got into his waiting silver Mercedes-Benz S600 and drove a couple of miles to a pawnshop. He parked, got a package from the trunk of his car, and took it in.

From the pawnshop, he drove to his favorite bookstore, where a short, overweight, round-faced Mrs. Churley greets him.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Rhineman.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Churley. Have you received any new puzzles lately?”

“Received some new ones yesterday,” she answered, smiling.

“Good, good.” He followed her to a counter heaped with boxed puzzles.

“The more difficult ones are on this table, Doctor. I think you’ll enjoy them.”

Dr. Rhineman looked over the selection of boxes.

“Wonderful! Please help me pick out two of the smaller but more difficult puzzles. The senator is driving up from Miami and has challenged me to another contest this afternoon. I want two tough puzzles.” He grinned. “Senator Knowles is my stiffest competition.”

“You men are like two boys when it comes to your puzzle contests.”

“Yes, that’s true. But we take it all very seriously. It is a test of skill and ingenuity. I hate to lose to the senator.”

“And he to you, I’m sure,” said Mrs. Churley, laughing.

“Yes, I’m sure he does.”

Mrs. Churley held up a particularly colorful box. “This one is difficult,” she paused and selected another box, “I believe this puzzle to be equal.”

“Very good, Mrs. Churley, I trust your choices. So far, you’ve never failed me.”

“I swear I’ve never seen anyone enjoy puzzles like you do, Dr. Rhineman.” She took the two boxes over to the cash register.

He followed her. “Solving puzzles helps keep the brain exercised. My work in science has always been a puzzle, is not life itself a puzzle?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she agreed. “With the tax, it will be $29.68.”

Dr. Rhineman paid her and received his change.

“Thank you, Doctor, and good luck.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Churley, and thank you for your selections.”

He left the store, and minutes later, brought the Mercedes to a halt in a parking lot, next to an old redbrick two-story building. As he entered the Century Club, a tall, thin man in a pinstriped suit greets him.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Rhineman.”

“Good afternoon, Ronald. Has Senator Knowles arrived?”

“Yes, sir, he’s waiting for you in the game room. Will you gentlemen be having lunch?”

“Yes, most likely Ronald but something very light.”

“Excellent, sir.”

Rhineman’s trim six-foot-two-inch frame entered the sizeable oak-paneled game room. A few men were seated about the room reading, talking, and drinking. Some acknowledged him with a smile or a nod of the head.

Rhineman’s ice-blue eyes caught sight of the tall, slightly stoop-shouldered and balding red-haired senator on the far side of the room. He strode over to him.

When the fit, blond-haired doctor marched toward him, the senator smiled. “Ah, the perfect poster soldier for the Nazi’s Superman,” he mused.

“Good afternoon, Senator Knowles. It’s good to see you.”

They shook hands.

“Always good to see you, doctor, I see you’ve brought the puzzles.”

“Mrs. Churley told me she received them yesterday. I have her guarantee that they are most difficult, Senator.”

“I’m sure they are, Frederick. You wouldn’t have accepted anything less.”

The two men chuckled.

Dr. Rhineman removed the boxes from the paper bag and set them on the two-game table. They removed the cellophane from the boxes.

“I believe it’s your turn to have the first choice,” said Dr. Rhineman.

“Yes, it is.” The senator picked up the boxes and looked them over. “I’ll try this one,” he said and handed the other box to the doctor.

The two men wished one another other good luck. They dumped the puzzle pieces from the boxes out onto the table, sat down, and immediately began to assemble them. A group of men began to gather around the two fervent players. There were laughter, and words of encouragement.

A waiter placed a pitcher of ice water and two glasses on a table next to the combatants. Another waiter brought drinks to the onlookers. The air, in the room, became clouded with cigar smoke.

Dr. Rhineman and Senator Knowles worked feverishly on the puzzles; their faces intense as they concentrated on the challenge before them. The action was fast-paced and the excitement built as they proceeded. Suddenly, Rhineman started gasping for air. Standing he struggled to open his shirt collar and grabbed at his chest. He stumbled. His chair fell backward. Then his body swayed for a moment before crashing onto the table. Puzzle pieces, glasses, and the pitcher of water spilled onto the red-and-black plaid carpeted floor.