A Country Gift Shop Collection: Three cosy crime novels that will keep you guessing!. Vivian Conroy

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СКАЧАТЬ was suddenly reminded of the paper in the toolbox, the drawing of her fireplace and the lone 5 and 3 underneath it. She glanced at the unfinished hearth. Why had Mortimer added those numbers, at some later time?

      Both Marge and Ms. Tennings were eyeing her expectantly, so Vicky felt obliged to explain. “I did see one little thing that was a bit odd. But for the life of me, I can’t see how it would be related to Mortimer’s murder.”

      She explained about the paper in the toolbox and the odd numbers, added later. “Five, three. They stood apart from the calculation, underneath the left part of the fireplace. Scribbled hastily, as if they were an afterthought.”

      “I guess,” Ms. Tennings said, “that the numbers could refer to the left-hand side of the fireplace. To the rows of bricks.”

      Vicky stared at her fireplace.

      Marge clapped her hands in excitement and said it was just like in a Bella Brookes cozy.

      Vicky was reminded of Mortimer’s actions the other day as he had just about disappeared into the fireplace. He might have hidden something in a place where only he could later retrieve it. Then later he had marked the drawing of the fireplace to remember where exactly he had put it. The fireplace would not be used until it was finished, so he didn’t run a risk of someone lighting a fire in it right now. That all made sense.

      She walked over and knelt down in front of the fireplace. Loose bits of brick and mortar left on the floor crunched under her knees. She hesitated a moment, then leaned forward, putting her head in, like she had seen Mortimer do. It was as claustrophobic as she had expected. She pulled back hastily.

      “Five, three. Right?” She counted rows of bricks from the bottom up. “Five. Then three stones, inside maybe?”

      She put her hand in and ran her fingers over the rough bricks. Nothing.

      “There is nothing here,” she reported, disappointed. “It was too good to be true that Mortimer would have hidden it here in my store.”

      “Maybe it is five rows of brick from the top down?” Ms. Tennings suggested, her knitting forgotten. “Then three stones, inside. We have got to at least try to find it. Or make sure nothing is there.”

      “Right.” Vicky felt better, leaned over further. There seemed to be a small cavity. If only her hand didn’t get stuck. That could be the Gazette’s next headline. Local Business Owner’s Hand Caught in Chimney.

      “I think I…” She poked her fingers in, felt around, got the slip of something, pulled and grunted. “There is something here. But I can’t get to it.”

      “Be careful,” Marge warned, “or it might break.”

      “It seems to be rolled together or something.” Vicky tried to move her arm to get a better grasping position. “I can’t get… Oh, yes, wait a second.”

      Once she had a bigger part of it, it came out easier.

      A piece of paper turned into a finger-thick roll.

      Marge gasped. “It’s actually paper. Notes.”

      Vicky undid the roll. Several sheets, a bit yellowing…

      She unfolded them and smoothed them on her knee. Marge looked down over one shoulder; Ms. Tennings stood on the other side. Even Mr. Pug pressed his head against Vicky’s knee, looking up as if he also wanted a peek at the papers.

      Three pages from an old police report. Giving the information of eyewitnesses about the night of Celine Dobbs’ disappearance. To one of the sheets a photocopy of a newspaper page was attached. The Glen Cove Gazette from the fatal summer in which Celine had disappeared.

      “This really came from Perkins’ barn.” Vicky’s mouth was dry. “So Mortimer wasn’t kidding when he suggested to me that not everything had been destroyed. He really had something.”

      “Yeah,” Marge said, “but is it worth anything?”

      “Let’s see.” Vicky began to read.

Chapter Twelve

      The first sheet from the old files concerned an unfamiliar car in town. A conspicuous car that several witnesses had claimed to have seen on the night of Celine’s disappearance, first on Main Street, later along one of the roads leading away from town.

      A red Jaguar, license plates unknown.

      Mortimer had attached a small yellow sticky note, saying Deke/Cash R.?

      “Deke and Cash did like to drive flashy cars,” Vicky said pensively. “It could have been either one of them. They didn’t own a Jaguar though—their father only had a Rolls and a Buick—so it must have been borrowed from a friend. If they returned it that same night, nobody in town would have known it was them.”

      Something inside her chilled, thinking of the link with the assumption twenty-three years ago that Sheriff Perkins had been shielding someone influential. Had Daddy Rowland been willing to go that far for his boys?

      For Deke, whose phone number was on Mortimer’s little list, or Cash, who had lied about his whereabouts the night when Perkins’ barn had burned down to the ground.

      She’d better be very careful what she shared with him!

      She glanced over the information on the sheet, the name of the deputy who had taken the statements of the witnesses. Ralph Sellers, whom Diane was visiting today. She looked up at Marge. “Do you know where Ralph Sellers lives?”

      Marge shook her head, but Ms. Tennings asked, “You mean, the owner of Sellers Poultry? My friend Agatha goes there regularly to get fresh eggs. She claims they are much better than the ones you buy at the mall.”

      “Yes, that one.”

      “I could give you the address right away. Why?”

      “I want to go out there and see him, ask him a few questions. If I leave now, I might also catch up with Diane and tell her the latest about Mortimer Gill’s murder and her phone number being on his list. Maybe she can explain why it’s there.”

      Marge nodded. “If this is really all Mortimer had on Deke Rowland, it’s not much. The car sightings in themselves prove so little. The Jaguar might not even have belonged to someone local. I bet that in the summer season back then Glen Cove County was brimming with tourists, just like it is today.”

      “Right,” Vicky said. “Maybe Mortimer had just meant to approach Deke to test the waters and, if he got a guilty response to his suggestion, close in for the squeeze. I don’t think he really cared whether the other was the killer or not. As long as he got his money. And Deke Rowland has the deepest purse of anybody in town, you know.”

      She glanced over the next sheet. It dealt with the find of a thin gauze scarf in Michael Danning’s car, in front of the passenger seat. At the time it had been used as important evidence against him, refuting his statement that he had not seen Celine on the night of her disappearance. But as they had been a couple at the time, it was possible Celine had lost the scarf on some other occasion СКАЧАТЬ