Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #7)

“You didn’t, I hope?”


“Oh no, sir. By then word had come in that this particular automobile was wanted in a robbery.”

“Then I’d like to take a look at it,” Daniel said. “You can learn a lot with a magnifying glass and close observation, you know.”

“Really?” The young man looked impressed. “I know that Mr. Sherlock Holmes was supposed to be able to pick up a cigarette end and tell you what kind of person smoked it, but I didn’t think that kind of thing was done in real life.”

“They are using fingerprints these days,” Daniel said. “Did you know that every fingerprint is different and they can be identified on most smooth surfaces?”

“No kidding, sir. Well, I guess I’d have to ask sarge if it’s okay for you to take a look. I’d sure like you see you find them fingerprints.”

“I don’t have a kit to do it with me,” Daniel said. “But I could come back with one. But it’s possible that clothing got torn in such a bad crash or even bits of skin and tissue were left behind.”

“Golly, sir,” the constable looked pale. “You surely wouldn’t want the young lady to see that?”

“The young lady has seen worse,” Daniel said. “She’s a bona fide detective, my boy.”

“No kiddin’, sir?”

He looked at me as if I were an exhibit in Mr. Barnum’s circus.

I felt that I should warrant the label so I left the motor car and walked around to examine the accident scene for myself. The ground was truly trampled, and to make things worse, a horse and cart had been used to tow away the wreck. A light coating of new snow had fallen, blurring the outlines of footprints, so that it would now be impossible for anyone to pick up a trail in the pristine woodland beyond.

My eye was caught by a scar on a nearby tree. A horizontal line cut neatly along the bark, about chest level. I followed the line and saw some kind of blemish on a tree beyond. I held my skirts free of the snow and waded across to see.

“Daniel, come here,” I called, my excitement mounting. I pointed at the trunk. “There is something stuck in the wood.”

Daniel produced a penknife and extracted it. “Good eyes, Molly. It’s a bullet.”

“And there is the path that it took grazing the outside of that tree trunk,” I said.

Daniel frowned as he looked. “Someone was shooting into the direction we have just come. A falling out among thieves, maybe. One of them tried to run off?”

“He obviously succeeded, since no body was found,” I said. “And remember what the constable said about the tracks of a second vehicle. Did another motor car catch up with this one and stop to offer help? Then why shoot?”

Daniel shook his head. “Interesting question. Was it just coincidence that a second vehicle showed up? Had it come to help them? Or come to take the loot from them?”

“You’re saying them, but we only believe that John Jacob Halsted was in the car, don’t we?”

“He could have been working with a partner.”

“Who then tried to double-cross him and run off with the loot, knowing he was injured.”

“And Halsted shot at him to stop him from getting away,” Daniel finished with satisfaction.

“In which case, where is Halsted?”

“It could be that the partner was the one doing the shooting and that he managed to kill Halsted and bury the body somewhere close by.”

“Don’t, it’s too horrible.” I shuddered. I looked up at the constable who was watching us with interest. “Were any dogs used in the search?”

“Wasn’t no need. You’d have seen the tracks, plain as day, if they’d gone off through the woods.”

“We were just speculating that there could have been a falling out among thieves here. We’ve just found a bullet imbedded in that tree. So it’s not beyond possibility that a body could be buried nearby.”

“I don’t think so, sir. It had snowed, remember. The snow would be all disturbed, wouldn’t it?”

“No harm in searching again, though,” Daniel said. “Does anyone nearby keep hounds?”

“Yes, sir. Farmer over Hatcher’s Corner way keeps a pair of coon hounds.”

“Did you ask at all the farms around this site, to see if the victims of the crash came to seek shelter anywhere?”

“Oh yes, miss. We asked, all right. And then when we knew it was a wanted man, we checked out barns and hen houses and everything. Didn’t find nothing though.”

“My money would be on the second automobile,” Daniel said. “It could even have been an arranged meeting, although I’m sure the crash wasn’t intentional.”

“So you are suggesting that someone met Halsted and whisked him and the loot away?”

“Exactly.”

“Then who was doing the shooting?”

“Ah. That we don’t know.”

It was cold and bleak standing there. I shivered. “I think we’ve seen enough. I’m freezing,” I said.