“Fat chance. Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “They’re going to give you more than a slap on the wrist this time.”
“Then let’s not get caught,” she said.
He parked near the road.
“What are you doing over here? Drive me to the building at least!”
“Gertrude, I don’t feel good about this.”
“Nothing’s going to happen, Calvin. If I get caught, I’ll remind them that I am a little tilted, remember? Anyway, if they catch me, I’ll actually be holding the murder weapon. I’ll be a hero.”
Calvin didn’t look so sure.
“Look if you see blue lights or hear sirens, just drive away. I’ll deny you were ever here.”
“They’re going to know I brought you, Gertrude. How else would you get here? I’m your only friend.”
“That’s not true! I have lots of friends!” Gertrude cried. Wait, did he just say we were friends?
“I think I should go in with you.”
Gertrude’s eyes grew wide, but it was dark, so he couldn’t see that. “All right then. We should get going.”
He put the Cadillac in drive and rolled toward the building. “So how were you planning to get into the building?”
“I was going to find a window that wasn’t locked.”
“That’s it? That’s your big plan? What if all the windows are locked?”
“Look at this place, Calvin. It’s huge. One of the windows will be unlocked, I promise. Sure as mud in mud season.”
He pulled up alongside the building and put the car back in park. “I think we have other problems.”
“What?” Gertrude asked.
“Well, look. The windows are too high to reach, and they’re also … well, they’re fairly narrow.”
“Well, we can just climb on your car, and what do you mean, narrow?”
“First of all, you’re not climbing on my car. Second of all, no offense, but you’re not going to fit through that window.”
She looked at the window and then she looked down at her own hips. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s find a bigger window.”
“All the windows are the same size, Gertrude.”
“Fine. Then what do you suggest? I don’t exactly have time to go on a diet.”
“I think I should go through the window. Then I’ll find my way to the door and let you in.”
“Calvin! You’re smarter than a whip on Tuesday! You’re the best Watson ever.”
“Gertrude, if anyone is Watson, you are! Now, let’s just hope it’s unlocked.” He held his hand out to her.
She thought about taking it. Then thought better of it. “What?”
“The headlamp.”
“Oh,” she said and grudgingly handed it over.
He put it on and then got out of the car.
She sat in the car while he climbed onto the roof to check the window. She heard him say a naughty word and within seconds he was back in the driver’s seat. “Locked,” he said. “Just like I knew it would be.”
“Pretty spry for an old guy,” she said.
“Shut up.” He rubbed his hands together. “Can’t believe I’m about to get frostbite for you.” He put the car in drive and let it roll to the next window. Then he repeated the process.
After the fifth window, he climbed back into the car out of breath. “I am going to be so lame tomorrow. Probably won’t be able to get out of bed.”
“You probably won’t have to.”
The sixth window was the one. “This one’s unlocked,” he whispered down to her.
“You don’t have to whisper,” she said. “There’s no one here.”
“Well excuse me for not knowing how to behave during a robbery.”
She heard some grunting and peered up at him as he wrestled with the window. Finally, it slid open. He stuck his head in and peered around.
“What do you see?”
“A bunch of garbage,” came the muffled reply. “I’m going in.”
Then he bent his knees and jumped toward the window. His feet barely left the roof of the car, but it was enough for him to get his elbows in through the window. Then his legs just sort of dangled there helplessly for several seconds.
“Need a boost?” Gertrude asked.
“You stay off my car!” Calvin snapped, out of breath. He began to rock his body back and forth, and then, inch by inch, he disappeared through the window. Gertrude waited for a crashing sound that didn’t come.
Maybe he landed in something soft. She headed toward the closest door and waited.
And waited.
Calvin was the slowest trespasser in the history of trespassing. “Calvin!” she hollered through the door. “Hurry up!”
The door sprang open. “Why must you always be so loud?” he asked as she stepped into the darkness. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“That giant rope you’ve got over your shoulder.”
“Oh, this is my prepper rope.”
“And you’ve brought it here because you’re planning to hang me?”
“Don’t be foolish. I brought it here so I could lasso the lamp.”
Calvin laughed so hard he began to wheeze. “Oh heavens, you really are trying to kill me.”
“What’s so funny? What did you think I was going to do? It’s not like I’m going to attempt the forklift again. That thing is broken. It only goes in reverse.”
“So you’re going to grab the lamp with a rope?”
“You’re the one who’s obsessed with westerns!”
“I like to watch them, not try to act them out in a dark thrift store!”
“Oh, come on,” she said, pushing past him. Then she said, “No really, come on. I can’t see without your headlamp.” They walked together then, her leading the way and him providing the light. “There!” she said, pointing upward. “See them? Dead birds!”
Calvin squinted. “Huh. You must have excellent eyesight.”
“Indeed, I do. Now step back, this might take me a couple of tries.” She began to swing the rope.
He put a hand on hers. “Wait.”
“What?”
“Let me try the forklift.”
“Why? What makes you think you can drive it?”
“Well, for starters, I’m considerably smarter than you.”
Gertrude crossed her arms and waited as Calvin and their only source of light headed toward the forklift. She heard it turn on and then voila! The forklift’s headlights came on. Then the forklift headed in her direction.
Well, I’ll be darned.
After a few failed attempts, Calvin managed to raise the forks. Up, up, up they went. “Say when,” Calvin said. “I can’t see too well from in here.”
“You couldn’t see too well from out here either,” Gertrude quipped. “Easy does it! You’re almost there! Another few feet!” She was so excited. They had almost done it. “Stop!”
Calvin stopped. He eased the forks under the bin and then, ever so gently, lifted some more. The stack wobbled, but only a little. He backed the forklift up and then lowered the beautiful blue bin to the floor. Gertrude hurried to it and started to grab the lamp.
“Don’t touch it!” Calvin cried.
“It’s all right!” she said, holding up a hand. “I’ve got gloves.”
Calvin climbed out of the forklift and joined her in gazing down at the world’s ugliest dead-bird-lamp. “So, that’s it, huh?”
“Yep. And look at this.” She pointed at the bottom of the lamp, which had dark, dried blood on it.
Calvin whistled. “Wow, look at that,” he said, and pointed to a bloody fingerprint.
“It’s the smoking gun,” Gertrude said.
16
As they drove north toward Mattawooptock and home, the sun came up, bathing the sky in pinks.
“Well, Gertrude. Looks like we survived the night. But let’s not do this again, all right? I’m old. I just want to be retired and bored.”
; “Really? ’Cause you kind of seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight.”
“Yeah, we had an adventure. But what I’m saying is, it was just a one-time thing. I don’t want to be your Watson or your Sherlock. I just want to sit in my recliner, in my house, and watch my television.”
“We’ll see,” Gertrude said. “Now that we’ve solved our second case, we could be overwhelmed by paying clients.”
“Gertrude, you’re not listening. There is no we.”
“Sure, Calvin. Whatever you say.” She didn’t believe him for a second.
When they pulled into the trailer park, Gertrude was alarmed to see a cop car parked in her driveway and Hale knocking on her door.
“Do you think he knows?” she asked, her voice shaky with panic.
“I don’t know. But does it matter? Aren’t you going to tell him anyway, when you give him the lamp?”
“Well, uh, no. I hadn’t really gotten that far in my planning,” she said thoughtfully. “I was just going to give him the lamp. I wasn’t going to tell him where I got it.”
Calvin laughed. “Well, sorry, Gert, but I think he’s going to ask. Oh, sorry, I know you don’t like to be called Gert.”
“No, it’s all right, Calvin. My friends all call me Gert. All right then, here goes nothing.” She climbed out of the car, clutching her prize in one gloved hand. “Hale,” she said, nodding. “I have something for you.”
Hale turned toward her voice. “Oh yeah?” he said suspiciously.
Calvin climbed out of the car too, and then leaned on it to watch the exchange.
“So, remember the ugly green lamp I told you about before? The murder weapon? Well, I just found it! Someone put it in a bin that was sent to the Goodwill pound store in Gorham. It’s got blood all over it. And it’s got a bloody fingerprint on it. I’m assuming the blood will match Tislene Breen’s and that the print will belong to the murderer. I’ll hand it to you if you’ve got some gloves you can put on.”
Hale, apparently speechless, quickly pulled a glove out of his pocket and put it on. Then he reached to pull the lamp from Gertrude’s clutches, but she yanked it away.
“Wait,” she said firmly.
“What?”
“First, I need to know. Why do you think Roderick did it?”
“What? Why, is that Roderick’s print?” Hale asked.
“How should I know? I don’t have a fingerprint database in my pocket. But no, since you asked, I am quite certain Roderick did not kill Tislene. But I still want to know why you think he did. And I think I deserve to know, since I just solved the case for you and everything.”
Hale’s hands dropped to his side.
“You don’t deserve anything, except maybe handcuffs of your own. Now give me the lamp.”
“No,” Gertrude put the lamp behind her back.
“Gertrude—” Calvin started, but Hale interrupted.
“You are now obstructing justice,” he said.
“Oh fiddlesticks! Just tell me why! I won’t tell anyone.”
Hale put his hands on his hips and looked around, as if to make sure no one but Calvin was within earshot. Then he leveled an unamused gaze at Gertrude. “A friend of the victim told us that he followed her around. He seemed to have a weird fascination with her. Even followed her out to her car once. So that was enough to search his place, where we found pictures of her.” He held out one hand. “Now give me the lamp.”
Gertrude thought about it for several seconds and then handed it over. “So you arrested him for being sweet on someone?”
Ignoring her question, he carefully took the lamp from her and gently deposited it in his car.
“He didn’t do it,” she said.
“OK,” Hale said. “But I didn’t come here to talk about him. I came to tell you that we caught your burglar.”
“Really?” Gertrude asked, surprised.
“Yeah. She looked right at your hidden camera, so it didn’t take long to identify her. She’s a young woman from Waterville, named Rochelle Price. Do you know her?”
“Don’t think so.”
“She won’t say why she broke into your trailer. Something about you buying something from her grandmother, Dawn Price, at a garage sale, something that Miss Price feels should belong to her. But we don’t yet know what that something is. She wouldn’t say.”
Gertrude looked to Calvin for help. He offered none. She turned back to Hale. “How does she know I’m the one who bought it? It’s not like lawnsaleing leaves a paper trail.”
Half of Hale’s mouth curled up in a smile. “She said that everyone knows you. Apparently, you’re a frequent shopper in the area.”
“Well, I’ll be!” Calvin chirped. “You’re a famous lawnsaler. You should call the History channel. Maybe they’ll give you your own show!”
Gertrude had no idea what he was talking about, but she was fairly certain it warranted a dirty look. “Pretty sure I’m too young to be on the History channel, Calvin.” She turned her gaze back to Hale. “Guess I’ll have to solve the mystery of the lawn sale burglar later. I am dog-tired.”
She started toward her trailer, then thought better of it and turned back to Hale. “You’re going to throw the book at her, right?”
Hale smirked. “She has been charged with breaking and entering, yes. But it seems she didn’t actually steal anything.”
“All right then. Fair enough.” She paused, staring at him. Then, “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
“For what?”
“For catching your burglar and your murderer?”
He chuckled and looked off into the distance.
Gertrude noticed he was even more handsome in profile.
“This doesn’t change anything, you know,” he said.
“What?”
He looked at her, with just a hint of his grin remaining. “You’re still not a detective. This may or may not even count as evidence in court—”
“I could testify! I’ll say I saw it at the murder scene. And I found one of the dead birds then. And then I found the lamp.”
“As I was saying, it might not count. There is a process, Gertrude, and you’re not part of it. The court will have no way of telling where this lamp really came from or how you really came by it. You shouldn’t have jeopardized this case, and you shouldn’t have jeopardized your own safety either.”
Gertrude looked at Calvin. “Did that sound like a thank you to you, Calvin?” Then she looked at Hale. “Well then, you’re welcome, Deputy.” And she went inside and closed the door behind her.
Gertrude went straight to bed and slept soundly until three in the afternoon, when a chorus of demanding meows woke her. She had forgotten to give her children breakfast. She poured dry cat food into their bowls and they each gave her a dirty look before delicately digging in. She patted Sleet on the head as he ate, and then realized she was pretty hungry herself. She made herself a tuna fish and pickles sandwich, taking care to drain the tuna can into Sleet’s dish. He began to purr.
She balanced her plate on her walker as she made her way into the living room. As she plopped down in her recliner, she realized she was in an unusually good mood. She had really accomplished something. She had helped the police find a murderer, she had cleared Roderick’s name, she was sure of it, and she had made a new friend. She smiled as she took a big bite of her sandwich. Then, as she chewed slowly, savoring the crunchy sourness and the creamy mayo, she turned on the tube. Ah, Antiques Roadshow. Could this day get any better?
She watched the experts appraise a faded tapestry that turned out to be worth about twenty dollars; a painting that wasn’t worth anything; and a Tiffany lamp worth 125,000 dollars. That lamp owner burst into tears at the news of her windfall. Gertrude wondered how much the dead-bird-lamp was worth.
The tuna sandwich long gone, Gertrude was just about to drift off to sleep again when the show moved on to an antique salt and pepper shaker set. Gertrude’s eyes popped open as she knew she had the same set stash
ed away. She had picked it up the previous summer at a yard sale for only seventy-five cents.
The little shakers looked like small urns, and if she were to use them, she thought she’d always expect ashes to fall through the small holes.
The appraiser babbled loquaciously until Gertrude was about to throw her shoe at the screen, and then he finally provided a number to justify his excitement: 85,000 dollars.
Gertrude’s mouth fell open.
She flew out of the chair, knocking Drizzle off the armrest, flipped on the lights, and furiously dug through her piles until she found her set. Then she hurried back to the television to compare hers to the lottery winner’s, but it was too late. They’d moved on to an old rocking chair.
It didn’t matter. She was certain. It was the same set.
She called the Somerset County Sheriff’s Department and asked to speak to Deputy Hale.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s gone home for the evening. Can another deputy help you?”
“Don’t call me ma’am, and no, I need to speak to Hale.”
“Can I ask what this is regarding?”
“It’s a matter of life and death.”
“Ma’am, is this an emergency?”
“No. I just need to talk to Hale.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not possible.”
“Look. Just call him. Trust me. He will be glad you did. Tell him to call Gertrude, and tell him it’s a matter of life and death.” She spoke the last few words slowly for emphasis. Then she gave the befuddled woman her phone number. “It’s a cellular telephone,” Gertrude added. Not because this was pertinent information, but because she was a little proud to own such a thing.
“I’ll see what I can do. Are you sure you’re not in any danger?”
“Nope.”
“And no one else is in any danger?”
“Well I’m sure someone is, somewhere, but I’m the only one in this trailer.”
“OK. You have a good night.”
Gertrude could hardly stand the waiting. She sat in her chair, but then got back up and paced her narrow paths, never taking her eyes off her phone for more than a few seconds at a time. After a very long ten minutes, Hale called back.
“Hello?” Gertrude said cheerily.
“What?” Hale snapped.
Gertrude, Gumshoe Cozy Mystery Series Box Set: Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 17