The Marsh Madness

“Even though it’s fun to help you sleuth, maybe you should take the photo directly to the police.”


“I didn’t come by that photo, um, legally. Anyway, I’m going to need something solid about who this Lisa is before I go whispering in Detective Castellano’s ear.”

“Why do I feel like this is going to turn out to be dangerous?”

“It already turned out to be really dangerous for Chadwick. We can’t let someone get away with murder and with trying to pin the blame on one of us. It was an obvious setup, in retrospect.”

“So please be careful.”

“I will be. And don’t leave any information for me on my cell. In case the cops bug it.”

“Now you’re being paranoid.”

“I don’t think so. They wouldn’t put a trace on your phone in the reference department, but you can bet they’ll get warrants for my phone and electronic records. That’s why I called you from a burner.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m about to head back to Van Alst House. I want to check and see how Vera’s doing, although she wasn’t really too broken up over Chadwick and she doesn’t really think we’ll get arrested. But she hates disruption. So the cops hanging around are bound to be getting her down, and I wouldn’t put it past her to get on her high horse with them. Plus, you know, there’s always something wonderful for dinner. Thanks for helping, Lance. I owe you.”

“I have an idea that might work. Give me a bit of time.”

“I’ll be in touch.”


*

I GOT BACK into my regular clothes, swirled my terrific crimson cape, dropped my iPhone into my pocket, leashed Walter and picked up his lovely little bed. We ambled to the Saab. Walter was so excited that he snorted and circled. I didn’t snort or circle, but I did give a jaunty little wave to the police officer who was stuck with the boring job of watching me. I walked over to his car.

I said, “I’m heading for Van Alst House for dinner. I’ll drive slowly if you’d like.”

He looked at me and scratched his nose. As I settled myself and Walter settled in the Saab, he was fairly obviously on his radio communicating this information. What would he be saying? Suspect on the move?

Not my problem.

I was starving, and I imagined that Walter was too.

As I turned to pull into the Van Alst driveway, Cherie’s cable van careened out the gate and rocketed down the road and away from Harrison Falls. I crossed my fingers she’d come through for me. I hoped that Uncle Kev was with her, out of sight and out of trouble.

I was still being tailed. I hoped that my dozy watcher hadn’t taken note of the cable truck. I glanced in the rearview mirror once again. The bored officer didn’t appear to be passing this information on to anyone. I downshifted the Saab and drove onto the pea gravel drive, taking my time winding around to the back, so I could make sure he followed me. He did.

My plan was simple. Take the dog for a walk. It’s not that I didn’t trust Cherie to do everything I asked. I wanted to double-check. Knowing Uncle Kev, he was entirely capable of helping Cherie clean up all evidence of the still and then spray-painting Kevin Kelly was here making moonshine. For more information please call Jordan Bingham 555-1234 in red on the nearest tree.

First, we made our way to the kitchen. I told the signora that there was a poor, hungry policeman in the car outside. She didn’t react by racing out the door with some food for him, as I’d expected. It seemed that the signora was annoyed by the police. If I understood her rapid speech and even more rapid hand movements, she didn’t like the idea of them interrogating us and upsetting Vera’s routine. She’d served coffee and almond cookies and where did that get us?

“Disgraziati!” she muttered to finish off.

After nearly two years around the signora, I’d learned that she meant the two detectives were scoundrels or good-for-nothings. I was fine with that, but I needed her help.