The ROB Club Murder Mystery

Written by Tom Fowler

Monday, March 31, 2008

The day began pleasantly enough in Oklahoma City. It was sunny, but as was often the case this time of year, windy and cool – much the same as it was on the day 27 years (and one day) ago, when the attempt was made on President Reagan’s life.

There was a reason Johnny Woodward’s group did not meet on Tuesdays.

They met every Monday morning for breakfast at Faye’s Café. The group, which now called themselves the ROB (Retired Old Boys) Club, dined in a private room. Johnny was especially grateful for the privacy this morning, as he did not wish for anyone to overhear what he was planning to discuss. During breakfast, he did not say or do anything that would cause the others alarm, although a couple of friends noticed that he was unusually tense.

Johnny looked around the table at his four best friends. There were -- at one point in time -- six of them, including himself. But Eddie had died the same afternoon of the unsuccessful attempt on President Reagan’s life. Eddie had died on a Tuesday. And Johnny knew Eddie had been murdered. He knew also that the killer was at the table with them.

Johnny didn’t completely understand his motive for doing what he was about to do. He was weary of carrying such a dark and burdensome secret all these years, but mainly he had come to realize that none of them were growing any younger, and that justice had to be carried out soon. He would not be able to live with himself any longer if the murderer continued to go on without suffering the consequences for what he had done. He also felt it would be right to allow Eddie’s family some measure of closure. He had covered for the killer long enough.

After the dishes were cleared away and the coffee cups were refilled, the ROB’s favorite waitress, Mona, excused herself and, at Johnny’s request, shut the door to the private dining room.

“Why did you have her do that?” asked Tim, who had worked for Johnny, as they all had, before retiring from the network department of the local school system.

Johnny took a deep breath and replied, “Because we have something important to discuss.”

Al, alarmed, asked, “And what would that be?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Johnny continued, “You know yesterday was Eddie’s 27th anniversary. I have to tell you, he didn’t just die. One of us murdered him. Had it not been for the intense focus on the Reagan shooting that afternoon, I’m certain he would have been found out.”

The table became eerily quiet. Al again spoke, asking, “How do you know this?”

Johnny took a deep breath, “Does everyone remember where we were on that day? It was a Tuesday. It was a hectic day for me as my grandfather passed away that morning. Plus we had that big computer upgrade going on. President Reagan getting shot only added more stress to an already too long day.”

“Yeah, I remember,” said Al, “we were all in the computer room. I remember we were all freezing in that cold room.”

“That’s right, agreed Johnny, “and it was assumed Eddie died of a heart attack.”

“Right after we heard Reagan had been shot.” Ray added. “I remember the computer room had a television set with cable, which was a novelty at the time and something Johnny got for us as a favor. When news of the shooting came on, everyone’s attention turned to the news. It was 1:40 p.m. and the upgrade was nearing completion.”

Everyone focused intently on Johnny as he began to speak. “As you recall, that morning we gathered early for our upgrade. I arrived first to unlock the computer room and cabinets.” Johnny smiled, and then continued, “I would have had one of you do that, but back then only managers carried keys. Recall also that our whole team was involved in it, as it was 1981 and one of the first major IT upgrades. By 1:45 p.m. or so, all was going well and we had the television on. Reagan had been shot at about 1:30 p.m. central time, and news of this was on all of the major channels. It provided enough distraction to give the killer an excellent opportunity to lace Eddie’s cup of coffee with poison. As I recall, Eddie drank the fateful swallow as we watched video clips of the shooting.”

Incredulous, Watson asked, “How do you know he was poisoned?”

“The killer left the half empty bottle of poison in a cabinet drawer -- it was a huge bottle, not easily concealed, and I didn’t retrieve it until a couple of months later.”

Al angrily asked, “So who did it?”

Johnny took turns looking at them all. He said, “I don’t want to finger the killer until we talk this out.”

Tim replied, sadly, “OK. Let’s go back to square one. When the television flashed the news about the shooting, we gathered around the file table. The coffee was brewed by me and poured before the cups were taken to the table. Al was already at the table before the coffee was poured.”

Al, thinking out loud, asked, “Who had the poison and when was it slipped into Eddie’s coffee?”

Johnny said, “Let’s continue. Watson and I wore lab coats in the computer room to say warm. We could have easily hid a bottle in our jackets.”

Tim said, “I had on a long sleeve shirt that day, with blue jeans but no jacket. I was freezing.”

Ray said, “I had on a short sleeve shirt and slacks. I’m always warm, so the cold felt good.”

Watson said, slowly, “I poured the coffee into the cups. I noticed what I believed to be an inch of standing water in one of them by the tray’s edge. I remember this because it was a bit fuller than the others after I poured and I was concerned that the server would splash it on his shirt. I didn’t think anything more of it, other than I thought it would help to cool the hot coffee. Besides, I didn’t serve the coffee. Johnny did.”

Johnny asked, “So the poison was in the cup when you poured it?”

“Yes.”

Al, who had been silent for a while, said, “I remember Johnny brought the coffee over. If I recall, you asked everyone to take a cup from the tray.”

“That’s correct.”

“Wasn’t Eddie the last one served?”

“Yes.”