Author's Solution

The solution is fairly simple. At least, to me it is but there is a reasonable expectation that it would be to the person who wrote the story.

With the exceptions of being told in the prologue, ". . . one of the children purposefully stomped hard on the hand of a smaller relation," hinting it was one of the physically larger and older of the Coleman kids who suffered emotional disturbance, plus the answer to Detective Bearce's question in chapter 36 when asking what else was in the wastebasket and being told that, "Only some used Kleenex and a disposable razor package," the clues are centered on Cathy Coleman.

A minor clue, and I say minor because the reader can deduce the identity of Leann's killer without it, is found in Chapter 40. Here we learn the basement door was shut when the men came upstairs just as Stephanie made her advance towards leans, and was found closed the next morning when Tim and Jack found Leann's body. Any sounds coming from the basement during the night, if they could have been heard at all, would have been muffled.

We learned in Chapter 8 that Cathy had an acute sense of hearing. Tim lamented that she could hear him whisper from several feet away. In Chapter 19 it was stated that the four persons heading to the Plaza for a night of partying would be traveling in Cathy's SUV, implying she was the driver and the person who would do the least amount of drinking. In Chapter 20, it was further noted, to quote from text, Cathy, as the most practical and least intoxicated person, did the driving. That Cathy was the driver was reaffirmed by Jack Edgmon in Chapter 26.

In Chapter 29, Tim told Baughman, to quote from text, "Cathy is a light sleeper and usually knows what's going on in this house." At the end of the chapter Baughman makes a mental note of it.

In Chapter 43, Cathy answered negatively to Baughman's question, "At any time did you hear footsteps on the stairs?"

In Chapter 46, Baughman experiences firsthand the acute sense of hearing possessed by Cathy Coleman when she informs him, after he spoke softly with Tim in the kitchen, that, "I couldn't help but hear you upstairs."

In Chapter 67, the author writes: She tended towards being a light sleeper and suffered intermittent bouts of insomnia. Nowhere in the story is it mentioned that Cathy suffered insomnia on any of the nights the extended family was in the house, but this reaffirms her problems with sleeping, to the point of not being able to sleep at all.

Cathy would not have heard the footsteps which Janelle did because the Plaza party goers were not yet home.

The light sleeping Cathy, possessing keen hearing and being the only sober person in the house except for the murderer, heard nothing from the upstairs all night long. Had any of the Coleman family gone downstairs to dispose of the murder weapon, she surely would have heard it.

Bob Coleman, sleeping in the main floor study as a makeshift guest bedroom, was the only person who could have made noises on the main floor and in the bathroom.

Judge Robert Coleman IV, the highly respected Missouri State judge who just missed high position in the United States Federal court system, murdered his cousin.

87. The Solution Discussed

Tim spoke next before either of them could speak again, saying simply, "It was Bob." The intuitive knowledge and psychological link which his wife and police detective had shared for only a few short seconds found its way to him as electric current seeks ground. Tim said again, half stating and half asking, "It was Bob wasn't it?"

Baughman replied, "Yes, it was. The solution is so obvious that we missed it. I knew; I sensed that coming over here this morning may jog my memory and it did. As my mother used to say, it helped me put my thinking cap on."

Cathy enjoyed a hearty laugh. She added, "Me too. It helped me with my thinking cap too!"

The tension Lt. Baughman had lived with these last few weeks disappeared. Simply knowing who the murderer was provided tremendous relief to him and he sighed deeply. Even if he could not prove Judge Coleman murdered his cousin, he could now look deeply into his background and watch him closely. No longer did he have to live with the agony of not knowing the name of Leann Edgmon's killer.

An observer not familiar with the Edgmon case would have noted that Tim and Cathy Coleman and their "guest" Lt. Baughman had each peeled several years off of their previously haunted faces this morning after the collective revelation concerning Bob Coleman.

It took several minutes for the giddiness to subside. It was Tim who brought them back to reality by asking, "How are you going to prove it?" It was as if Tim had not heard the lieutenant lament that the case against Bob was not provable.

A slight tightness reappeared around the lieutenant's dark eyes. He responded, "If intense background checks and surveillance do not yield anything interesting, I won't be able to establish anything. He was investigated very thoroughly during the Reagan years when he was up for that federal judgeship, but that was over 20 years ago. We'll see if his background since that time can withstand scrutiny."

"It's strange how this hit us at the same time. What makes you think he's the killer?" Tim asked this in a detached manner, as a student asking a professor a question.

Cathy answered first. "I knew it when the lieutenant reviewed all of the interviews. It occurred to me that nobody saw or heard much other than toilets flushing and the 3:00 clinking sounds. Everyone is the house was drunk but me, but I wasn't and I hear everything. Nobody went downstairs after I went to bed. Bob is the only person who could have made sounds from the downstairs bathroom at 3:00." Cathy paused but Tim and the lieutenant knew she was not finished speaking. She added, "If you had not remembered to mention that only paper products were in the trash can with the knife, this may not have come to me. The clinking sounds had to be the knife and Bob had to be the one in the bathroom throwing it away." She asked, "I wonder why he didn't flush it down the toilet?"

Before Tim or the lieutenant could respond, Cathy offered, "I guess Bob couldn't risk coming upstairs to dispose of the knife. Going to the kitchen or anywhere else in the house would put him in jeopardy of being noticed. Better for him to stick with the room closest to the study – the downstairs bathroom."

Tim offered, "Getting back to the knife. It's a little bit too large and long for flushing down the toilet. He couldn't risk stopping up the toilet and having other family members come and possibly see the knife." The three were tactfully avoiding the use of the term "murder weapon."

"That's the conclusion I have come to also," Baughman said. "Cathy has acute hearing and it was something I was aware of before this morning. I didn't correlate this with the obvious until now. Perhaps I'm getting old and should retire."

Cathy patted Baughman's hand, an extraordinary gesture from one who had been one of the detective's murder suspects only a few minutes ago – and would remain so officially until if and when Bob Coleman was charged with Leann's murder. She said, "Don't beat yourself up, Lieutenant. Sometimes we miss the obvious. You and your fellow detectives were awfully close to this case. Sometimes we cannot see the forest for the trees."

Epilogue

The following days and months were busy and bittersweet ones for Lt. Baughman. They were busy but yielded nothing of value. In the discouraging darkness of sleepless nights, Gary would question his judgment and feared he suspected the wrong man.

But, in his heart of hearts, he knew he was correct and this gave him a measure of much needed peace of mind. His keen intuition did not fail him. Judge Robert Coleman was guilty of murder but he had no way of proving it. All he had was Cathy Coleman's testimony concerning sounds in the house and an observation concerning a wastebasket. No Kansas jury would convict the highly respected Judge Coleman on so little evidence and testimony.

Still, the man was guilty.

Not surprisingly, there was much that Lt. Gary Baughman did not know.

Judge Coleman had not seen the plain clothed police discreetly following him nor did he suspect the federal wiretap that had taken the approval of no less a figure than the director of the FBI to obtain. But, as with the Colemans and Lt. Baughman on their recent morning of epiphany, he knew. He sensed and felt the presence of eyes and ears upon him and wondered if an arrest was in his future after all the many years of sadistic crime and the seemingly effortless way he had of avoiding detection.

The last act in the sad and tragic drama of his brilliant but twisted life began on a beautiful autumn day in October. Baughman had given Tim the go ahead to call his brother and deliver the news that Lt. Baughman and his counterparts had questioned him vigorously and repeatedly concerning Bob's background and family life. "Bob," Tim said to him on that clear, crisp day just before Halloween, "I shouldn't say this, but you are family. I think they're getting ready to arrest you."

Bob reacted calmly to this news. He replied, "Thank you, Tim. I appreciate the warning. They can go ahead and arrest me. I am innocent and they cannot make something of nothing."

"Your reputation may suffer," Tim said, with genuine concern in his voice.

Tim heard Bob chuckle softly over the connection. He said, "It's their reputation that will suffer. Then there will be a lawsuit. I won't win but the Overland Park Police Department will never recover from the bad publicity." In a rare display of immodesty, Bob added, "Lt. Baughman should know better than to come at a prominent citizen with a serious charge and have nothing to back it up with."

The men chatted for a few more minutes with Bob inquiring about Stephanie. Tim told him, "She's coming along but it's slow. I hope she doesn't get worse if you are detained."

Bob said, "I'll call her. I think she needs reassurance. I hope she's not the murderer. What do you think?"

It pained Tim to say, "I don't know." Soon the conversation was over. Tim hoped the apprehension in his voice had not given him way. He hated doing what he had to do, even if his brother was a murderer.

Bob sat by the telephone for a long time, looking back over his remarkable life and thinking about what the future would hold.

A couple of days later, after the local police reported to Baughman that Judge Coleman had not left his lakeside home since the telephone call from his brother, the lieutenant obtained permission to enter the judge's spacious Osage Beach house. They found the judge dead in an upright and apparently peaceful position by the telephone, a half empty glass of clear liquid set before him. The judge left a note that stated simply, "Lt. Baughman, you win."

After the media blitz subsided just before Christmas, Gary Baughman realized he would no longer be an effective police lieutenant. Critics would say he "went Hollywood," but the truth was that Baughman was burned out and had become too much of a disruption to the relatively small Overland Park PD. He took retirement and accepted an offer to relate his experiences during the Edgmon murder investigation in a ghostwritten book – after he kept his promise to give an exclusive interview to Sam Dougal. Gary Baughman was now a public figure and nationally known.

The Colemans slowly began to recover from the traumatic events of the last six months. Stephanie, suspicion lifted from her fragile shoulders, improved dramatically. She returned to teaching for the spring semester. Stephanie's principal now knew of her sexual preference but, happily for her, was not as concerned with it as she was, asking only that it not be a topic of discussion in her classroom.

Tim and Cathy rescheduled their trip to Scotland for the following May. They sold their home in February to a speculator who hoped it would fetch a higher price to a crime writer he knew who wished to write an unauthorized account of the murder. Tim and Cathy put their furnishings in storage, rented an apartment and decided to look for a new home after returning from Scotland. The sexual fantasies they had enjoyed in the bedroom during their marriage ended with Bob's death.

Jack Edgmon was still in mourning but the shock and horror subsided. His mood and emotional health was improved by a widowed artist friend of Leann's who had just recently begun to show interest in him.

Jim and Peggy keyed off of Stephanie's improved condition. Stephanie was happier and so were they. They would serve as Stephanie's guardian angels for the remainder of her life.

Michael Coleman returned to his life the least affected by the tragedy. Mike wasn't a good guy but neither was he a bad guy. Mike was Mike and, as far as the Edgmon tragedy was concerned, a self-centered personality was not entirely a bad thing.

Janelle felt a lingering sense of unmerited guilt. It was simply in her nature to assume responsibility for problems not of her making. Work therapy was the best thing for her and she wisely chose to delay retirement with Larry's full blessing.

The younger generation of Coleman's were strangely unaffected by Leann's murder. They had for the most part been excluded from the family reunion and were not tied in emotionally to a relative they barely knew. This was a good thing.

The Coleman kids and their spouses got on with their lives and, with varying degrees of success, were able to overcome, ("adjust to" would be a more accurate description), that terrible night in July when one of their own, one of the most respected public servants in the Midwestern United States, murdered his cousin for no apparent reason. Indeed, there was no reason, other than it was possible to do it, so he did it. This is an over simplistic answer to a question concerning a person with a dark and deeply complex personality, but in human terms it is the best we can do. A man or woman of God possessing a deep spirituality would say that Judge Coleman was possessed of the devil.

None of the Coleman kids or their spouses was broken beyond repair because of Bob's actions. Indeed, none of his previous crimes ever came to light. He had hidden them too well. That is not a good thing for the many families he had victimized through the years, but was a blessing to the Coleman family, although they suspected there was more criminal history in Bob's life than they knew. In the spiritual realm of things, they had suffered enough. What they did not know could never hurt them.

The Coleman's had indeed suffered and would heal to an acceptable degree, but there would never be another Coleman family reunion.

And what of Marilyn Monroe? Tim could no longer bear to look at her because of the unfortunate association with his cousin's tragic death. He sold her back to the same store she was purchased from. The store owner, knowing the poster's macabre history, quickly sold it on eBay for a handsome profit. In the end, though, Tim's Marilyn was as she always was; frozen in time at 36 years of age since her own untimely demise in August of 1962, mercifully untouched by the Edgmon murder or any of life's other harsh realities since that long ago time when the Coleman kids were still kids.

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