Perplexity on P1/2 (Parson's Cove Mysteries) (27 page)

     I glanced down at the notepaper and the large brown envelope he’d handed me.

     “Reg actually thinks that I can read his writing?”

     He shrugged and grinned. “Well, don’t ask me to help.” Scully stepped down off the step. “Sorry to wake you up so early, Mabel. Reg asked me to bring this over last night but I forgot. Me and Jim are going fishing now.” He grinned again and disappeared round the side of the house.

     Reg was sick and both his deputies were going fishing. I’m sure every citizen of Parson’s Cove could feel safe and protected.

     Before he disappeared from view, however, I called out, “Did you phone me this morning?”

     “That was to warn you I was coming. Why don’t you answer your phone?”

     At least, I hadn’t missed a call from Ralph.

     I poured another cup of coffee and took it to the table. As I was about to start deciphering Reg’s notes, the phone rang. I grabbed it before the second ring.

     “Ralph?”

     “Ralph? Mabel, it’s me. You mean, Ralph hasn’t called you yet? What about the phone company? Did you find out where Sally called from?”

     “No, to everything, Flori. I thought you might be Ralph. Anyway, do you want to come for coffee? Scully brought over some notes and I don’t know if I can figure them out on my own. You know what Reg’s writing is like.” I turned over the envelope holding the pictures to see if it was sealed. It was. “He also sent some pictures for us to look at.”

     “Why would Scully give you notes and pictures? Can’t Reg come over? Don’t tell me Beth got him to go to church this morning. That would be a miracle.”

     “He’s sick, Flori. Sore throat or something. Are you coming over or not?”

     “I’m on my way.”

     I spread the three pieces of paper on the table in front of me. This might prove to be as tricky as trying to solve the murder. Instead of starting without Flori, I decided to make a fresh pot of coffee. I threw out the old, along with what was in my cup, and brought out some fresh muffins from the freezer. Flori arrived before the coffee was finished brewing.

     We each filled our cup, put a muffin on a plate, (Flori first applied a layer of butter to hers) and sat down at the table.

     “Where do we begin, Mabel?” Flori asked, before taking a bite.

     “Your guess is as good as mine. Here, let’s just start with the first one here.”

     His printing was large so there wasn’t too much information on each page.

     “This is what I read. See if you think this is right.
Gambling. Insiders collecting chips. Passing on. Insiders getting suspicious.
Is that what it looks like to you, Flori?”

     Flori held up the paper, squinted, and scanned the page.

     “I’m amazed you could read that. Look, some letters are large and others are so small.” She looked at me with an accusing eye. “How come sometimes you can see things and other times you can’t?”

     “I told you, Flori. It all depends on the light. If the light is good, I can read anything. And, it isn’t that his writing is small, it’s illegible, that’s all. Okay, next page.”

     “This isn’t quite so easy to read, Mabel. It’s smudged with something. Is that ketchup?”

     I sniffed it. “Can’t smell anything but I’m sure it isn’t blood. See if you can make out what it says.”

     “Let’s see. I think this says
Maxy.
” She showed me the paper. “What on earth would that mean? Surely, not sanitary napkins.”

     “It means Maxymowich. Keep going.”

     “Oh, all right.
Maxy figures either Andrea or Hatcher…
what’s that next word, Mabel?”

     “
Much?
No, maybe
must? Have suspected…
the next word has to be Grace, even though it looks like ‘grapes.’”

     “So, he’s saying that Captain Maxymowich thinks either Andrea or Hatcher killed Grace?”

     “No, I don’t think he’s saying that, Flori. He’s saying that they must have been suspicious of Grace, that’s all.”
     “Suspicious that she was a cop?”

     “Maybe, although I don’t think so. I think they were suspicious she’d steal the money. What’s this about ‘insiders collecting chips?’ What do you make of that?”

     “I don’t know anything about gambling, but you know Jake indulges in it once in awhile. I think it means that someone inside the casino was collecting chips. You know, slipping them under the table, stealing them, and then passing them on to others to cash in. That must be how they were getting money illegally, Mabel.”

     “There had to be someone inside helping because, I’ll tell you, Flori, even though I didn’t go inside and gamble, I could see cameras and security guards all over the place. They really guard that money.”

     “So, it must’ve been either Andrea or Hatcher who committed the murder. Who else would have a motive? And, you know, Mabel, there always has to be a motive.”

     “Hmmm. I could’ve sworn both of them were surprised to hear that Grace was dead. They are two very good actors.”

     “All criminals have to be good actors. After all, they’re pretending to be good citizens so no one will be suspicious.”

     “Come to think of it, Flori. Undercover cops have to be good actors too. Look at Cecile. It’s still hard to imagine him being one of the good guys. Even now, I have my doubts.”

     “Let’s see the last page. Can you figure that one out, Mabel?”

     “I’ll try. I think Reg should take a course in handwriting. He’s worse than Fritz.”

     This page was worse than the others were, if that were possible. It didn’t help that Reg had ripped a corner off.

     “Here goes, Flori. I think this says
Sally…
spelled with one ‘l,’ of course. This word has to be ‘called’
from Y.R. Address on P and something. House number…
Now, who can read these numbers? It does look like a three and six though, doesn’t it? Or, is it a nine? Can you believe this? What kind of notes are these?”

     “They’re good notes. He’s telling you that Sally phoned you from Yellow Rose, from a house on P ½. If the house number has a three and six in it, it could be Stella’s, Cecile’s or Ben and Andrea Williams’ house. We’ll have to check with Reg to get it, Mabel. ”

     “Holy Hanna, you’re right. Where is my brain? Of course, that’s what he’s saying. The Y.R. sort of threw me off for a second.” I got up and filled our cups. “I’m beginning to think that Sally must’ve been kidnapped and was calling for help. I’ll bet you anything she phoned from Andrea’s house.”

     “How would you be able to help her if she was there and you were here?”

     We sat for several seconds, each solving the mystery in our own minds and in our own way.

     “I think,” Flori said. “Sally went willingly because she was after that Hatcher fellow but her plans fell apart when she overheard him talking to someone about the murder. When he discovered that she knew he’d killed once, he killed again.”

     I warmed up two more muffins. Somehow, the sunshine didn’t seem so bright anymore. It didn’t matter which one of us was right, neither idea sounded promising. Sally, if she were still alive, would be in danger if she went to Yellow Rose.

     “Flori,” I said. “I wonder if we saw Sally in Yellow Rose.”

     “What? No, we didn’t. Where would we have seen her?”

     “Coming out of Andrea’s house. Remember, we saw that man coming out at night and shoving a woman into a car. Flori, I’ll bet you anything that was Sally.”
 

     Flori chewed and thought. A couple of tears ran down her cheek. She sniffed and wiped them away with her hand.

     “I think you’re right. What a terrible thing. She’ll be dead then.” Flori’s face screwed up and I raced for another box of tissues.

     “We’d better go and talk to Maxymowich, Flori. This is getting too complicated even for me. I can handle one murder at a time but not two.”

     “And, I can’t handle any.” Flori closed her eyes and groaned. “Why did you ever go over to the morgue, Mabel? If you’d stayed in your shop where you belonged, none of this would be happening.” She blew her nose and glared at me.

     “My going to the morgue had nothing to do with this. Grace was dead before I went over there and who knows? Maybe Sally was already kidnapped.” I glared back. “Besides, we’ve done a lot of good detective work.”

     “Okay, if you say so. I don’t think we’ve done too much. But, we won’t argue about it.” She blew her nose and hiccoughed. “Aren’t you going to look at the pictures Reg gave you?”

     “The pictures. I almost forgot.” I opened the envelope as carefully as I could. Usually, I just rip but I didn’t want to take a chance in case I tore whatever might be inside.

     There were three 8 X 10 photos: two in color, one in black and white.

     Flori took one glance and covered her eyes. “I can’t look at that.” She turned in her chair and faced the window.

     They were all pictures of the murder victim. One was of Grace in the woods. She wasn’t in the fetal position that I’d pictured. She was lying on her back, gazing up at the treetops, except with unseeing eyes. To me, it looked as if someone had been carrying her down the path, perhaps heard something, and then tossed her body into the bush. I don’t know exactly why but it didn’t look like a planned drop. The photographer had taken the next picture in the morgue. The white cloth covered her and only her face was showing. Now, at least, someone had closed her eyes. I picked up the black and white. This shot was in the morgue also but without the cloth. She lay there, fully clothed, looking very peaceful. The quality of the picture was so well defined; I could see the pores in her skin.

     “Flori,” I said. “Look at this picture and tell me what you see here.” I pointed to Grace’s clothing.

     “I will if you cover her face. I can’t stand seeing her look at me like that.”

     “Her eyes are closed. Now, open yours and tell me what you see.”

     She leaned over the table. “What? I don’t see anything.”

     “There.” I pointed.

     “I really don’t see anything and I don’t see how you can. Your eyesight is worse than mine is, you know.

     Maybe she was right. Maybe I was seeing things. I took the photo over to the window. No, I was not seeing things.

     I had a good idea who killed Andrea Williams. a k a Grace Hobbs.   

Chapter Thirty Seven

     The Captain sat in Reg’s chair, facing me. Files and official looking papers occupied most of Reg’s desk, not the sports and fishing magazines that usually filled that space. There was a scowl on his face.

     “Very interesting theory, Mabel,” he said, after several seconds, which to me, seemed like several hours.

     “Is there some way you can check it out?” I asked.

     “Definitely,” he said. “However, we do need DNA from the suspect.”

     He stood up. 

     “That might not be so easy to get,” I said.

     I stood up.

     “Don’t worry, we’ll get it.”

     “Will you need me then?” I asked.

     “No, we’ll manage on our own, but thanks for coming in. I appreciate it and always enjoy your visits, Mabel.” His lips didn’t smile but his eyes did. “I’d also appreciate it if you left the rest to us. This is a complicated case and I don’t want you getting hurt. You do understand I’m sure.”

     Who doesn’t agree with the Captain?

     “Of course, I understand.”

     “No more running off to Yellow Rose, Texas, then?”

     “No, sir. I’m finished with my vacation for this year. Besides, I think we’ve as good as solved this case.” I smiled. “Just my gut feeling, Captain.”

     This time his lips smiled too. “Well, let’s hope your gut feeling is right, Mabel.” With that, he pulled out his cell phone and sat down. I knew enough to exit.

     “What did he say? What did he say?” Flori asked, the minute she burst into the shop.

     “He said he’d look into it.”

     “That’s it? He’d look into it?”

     I nodded. “That’s it.”

     “But didn’t he think it was a brilliant deduction?”

     “Flori, you don’t know the Captain like I do. If he thought it was, he wouldn’t say anything until the case was solved and then he’d come to thank me. That’s just the way it works.”

     “Well, I hope we hear something soon. I still think you might be seeing things.”

     She poured her coffee and sat in the wicker chair.

     “By the way, I phoned Beth to see how Reg is and she said he’s better. Even if he’s still sick, I think she’s going to drug him up and send him out.”

     I smiled. “I phoned him this morning. He said that even if he’s still sick, he’s going to get out of the house because he can’t stand Beth fussing over him all the time.”

     “So, no matter which way you look at it, Reg will be out spreading his germs, won’t he?” Flori laughed until I had to hand her a handful of tissues.

     At noon, I walked to the Post Office to pick up my mail. Charlie was sitting in his favorite spot so I sat down beside him.

     “I took a trip to Texas. Did you hear about it?” I asked.

     Charlie nodded.

     “They still haven’t caught the person who murdered Grace but I think I might know who did. The police are checking into it now. Anything you can tell me that might help, Charlie?”

     Charlie started rocking and humming. It was a warm day but he seemed to be quite cool in his flannel shirt and denim overalls.

     “Just saw him running.”

     “You saw someone running? Who?”

     “Don’t know.”

     “Someone running away from the body?”

     He nodded. “Saw Esther coming and then man running away.”

     “Did Esther see him?”

     He shook his head.

     “Did you ever see this man before?”

     He shrugged. “He got into a car and drove away.”

     “If you saw a picture of him, would you know him?”

     He shook his head. “Too dark.”