Frozen Identity

by Sharon Mierke

  Without removing my clothes, I slipped under the quilt and hoped that soon I would fall into a drug-induced sleep. That, of course, never happened.

  The next day was Saturday and since that is the only day I ‘rake in the dough,’ I had no choice but to crawl out of bed in the morning. When Flori walked in about nine, she took one look at me and screamed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Mabel, good lord, what has happened to you? You look terrible. Have you been getting into the gin again?” She marched straight over to me and held me at arm’s length. I understood now where her son learned to ‘bore’ so well with his eyes.

  “Flori, don’t look at me like that. I was not drinking gin last night. If you must know, I had a bout of arthritis and I took three aspirin. I know I shouldn’t have but I did it without thinking.” I wriggled out of her grasp.

  It was then that she noticed the elastic bandage.

  “What did you do to your wrist? If you’re having arthritic pain, you don’t wrap it up, Mabel.” Then, as if thinking it over again, she said, “Well, at least, I don’t think you do. Are you trying something new? Does it really make it better?”

  I shrugged and gave her a brave smile. “I don’t know but I thought I’d give it a try. Actually, it is starting to feel much better already. Now, why don’t you sit down and I’ll pour us some coffee.”

  It took several minutes to rid her of her outerwear and get it hung up in the back room. Because it took double the time using one hand, Flori called out twice to see what was taking so long. Twice I assured her that everything was all right and I was just getting slow in my old age.

  Flori always dresses for the weather. Today, she was wearing her red jogging fleece sweats with a matching long-sleeved shirt. A rather large white rabbit adorned the front with real black button eyes and due to several washings, a slightly flattened pompom tail. She is usually conscientious about making sure all her colors match but today the red outfit, bright pink lipstick, and her red hair definitely clashed.

  I didn’t tell Flori that I’d taken another two aspirin before leaving for work. Since I rarely ever take painkillers, they work fairly well for me. I certainly wasn’t feeling any pain in my wrist. When I left home, the swelling was beginning to go down. It was now more blue than red and I was hoping that was a good sign. At least, now when I happened to touch up against something, I didn’t scream out in agony. The only ones that heard me do that several times were my cats. The first time it happened, all of them went scurrying for cover and I never did see them again. They probably held a family meeting about me as soon as I was out the door. I am beginning to think that they lead a much too sheltered life.

  About ten, customers started wandering into the store. Not in droves, mind you, but by closing time, I was very pleased by the dollar bills shoved into my register. Many knew Flori would be there so they came mostly to see her but they were polite enough to buy a few things. Just as Scully was eternally grateful for good coffee, I was eternally grateful for dollar bills shoved into my cash register. After all, it helps pay for the extra heating bill when the temperatures plummet.

  A few were quite open about asking questions but Flori made it clear from the start that she was not discussing Junior’s little problem. All of them made a sort of ‘tutting’ sound as if they weren’t interested anyway and changed the subject to something they hoped Flori might be interested in - like how wonderful it was not to live in Texas where they still had the death penalty. And, through it all, Flori never shed a tear. If the most obnoxious ones hadn’t spent the most money, I would have suggested they leave much sooner.

  Flori stayed until almost noon but then left to feed Jake. He is a grown man but has no idea how to make anything to eat. I had two muffins, an apple, and another cup of coffee about eleven so didn’t eat again. At four, I decided to start cleaning up. Although there was only snow on the ground, when it melted, it was dirty. After trying to sweep the floor with my one good arm, I gave up and just pushed the dirt up against the wall. I was hoping no one would come because the floor really needed a good mopping and I wasn’t even going to attempt that. That hope, however, died when I saw Nathan Horne jaunting across the street toward my shop.

  Nathan’s cheeks were deep pink and he was huffing a bit from running in the cold. As soon as he was inside, he said, “Mabel, why didn’t you answer my email?”

  Oh, that blasted computer. I always forget to check my mail.

  “Nathan, I’m sorry. I completely forgot. Was there anything really important that you wanted to tell me? Did Scully say anything about Jakie?”

  I could tell Nathan was quite disappointed in me. He doesn’t understand that some people don’t sleep and eat with their computers.

  With a small sigh, he said, “He didn’t have much to say but he did think it was strange that Emma never came over to the jail to visit, not even once. She did phone him the second day though and they talked very quietly for quite awhile. He said that he and Reg went to see her but she wouldn’t answer the door. They banged on both doors and even on the windows but she didn’t show her face.”

  I nodded. “That seems strange to me too. I think tomorrow I’ll run over and pay her a visit.” I looked up at the young man who was so desperate to help me. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we can discuss the case?”

  You would’ve thought I’d handed him a winning lottery ticket.

  “You mean it? We could go over all the evidence that we’ve found?”

  “I don’t think you can call it evidence yet. We have a long way to go before solving anything, Nathan. And, until we do, how would you like to do me a favor and pick that dirt up with the broom and dustpan?” I pointed to the neat little pile up against the wall.

  Nathan laughed as if I had cracked the funniest joke.

  “Sure, Mabel. No problem. You know I would do anything for you.”

  I watched as he put the dustpan to the floor and awkwardly swept the pile of mud, gravel, and dust up into the dustpan.

  “Hold it, Nathan,” I yelled as he started towards the large black wastebasket I keep beside the coffee maker. “Let me look at that.”

  He stopped and stared at the dustpan. “Look at what? The dirt?”

  I grabbed the dustpan from his hand and examined the contents. After shifting some of the loose dirt and dust away, I picked up what I was looking for.

  “It’s dirt, Mabel. What are you doing?”

  I held one of the bigger chunks in my hand and showed it to Nathan.

  “I’ve seen this before,” I said. “This is identical to the chunk of dirt and gravel that was by the victim’s chair in the fish shack. I wonder if whoever had this on the bottom of their boots didn’t walk in the same area as the killer.”

  Nathan’s eyes lit up. “See, Mabel, I knew you could solve this. You are going to find the killer. I know you will.”

  It was good that someone had confidence in me because I certainly did not have any. As far as I could see, Jake Flanders Junior was going to be sitting in that jail cell staring at that 30-watt bulb for a long time to come. I doubted even Sherlock Holmes ever solved a case with a chunk of dirt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I think you should make a list of everyone who was in your store today.”

  That was Nathan’s deduction and not a bad one either, for a rookie. He told me this as I was making dinner. Somehow, without me realizing it, the young man had invited himself inside. Since I was going to heat something up for myself, I basically, had no choice in the matter. Not that I minded. I found out some time ago that Nathan would eat almost anything placed in front of him. Tonight, he was in for a treat, warmed up chili with enough spice in it to make your ears buzz.

  “I think that’s a good idea, Nathan. If there is only one street in town where you can get this on your boots, it will prove whoever was in the shack walked in that spot. You realize that’s about all it proves though, right?”

  He nodded and then broke in
to a wonderful smile. “And, I know where it might be. Over on Brewers Street. They dug up the street because there was a water main break. That has to be it. That’s the only street in town that isn’t covered in a layer of snow.”

  “Are you sure it isn’t covered in snow now? That water break happened quite a few days ago.”

  “I know but because there was so much frost, they had to redo it. It’s all dug up again.” He smiled. “I know because I had to walk there to deliver a parcel.”

  “Since when do you deliver parcels? Is this something new?”

  He shook his head and raised his eyebrows. “It’s something the mayor insists on. He claims he’s so busy, he doesn’t have time for the mundane things of life, like coming and picking up his mail.”

  Now it was my turn to raise the eyebrows. “He has his mail delivered too?”

  He sort of nodded and shrugged at the same time. “Most of the time. Sometimes he likes to come to the Post Office and mingle with the less fortunate ones. You know, like us, the common people.”

  “Oh, like he was a few weeks ago."

  Nathan grinned and nodded. "You'd never know it the way he struts around."

  "So, where exactly is the street dug up? Is it right in front of Mayor Pollock’s house?”

  “Pretty much all of his street. Why? You don’t think the mayor killed that guy, do you?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. It was true that the mayor was a bungling idiot but I’d never thought of him as a murderer. Perhaps now, a suspect?

  “Well, I guess everyone is a suspect until we find the real killer. Of course, it could have been from his boots because he is the one who found the body. So there goes my theory about the murderer having mud on his boots out the window. Unless, of course, it really was the mayor.” I thought for a moment. “Why did Fred and Veronica Pollock move to Parson’s Cove anyway?” I looked across at him over my bowl of chili. “Do you know why he moved here? And where he came from?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Not off hand but I'm sure I can find out.”

  “Come to think of it, Veronica was in the store so that’s probably where the mud came from. Who else lives on that street?”

  “You mean who else who could be a murder suspect?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, who else could be a murderer?”

  “Let’s see. There’s Elsie and Bill Conrad. I noticed they had a guilty look on their faces the last time they were in the Post Office.”

  “I’m sure they did. Where were they going? Was it Florida? I’d look mighty guilty if I was leaving this cold weather and heading south too. I don’t think we’ll check out anyone else on the street so hurry up and finish your dinner so we can do some sleuthing, Nathan.”

  He raised his hand in a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” Then, as if reconsidering, said, “Maybe after I’ve had another bowl. This is really good chili, Mabel.”

  Nathan was plunging into this third bowl when the phone rang. It was Reg.

  "I just got back, Mabel. I thought you might be anxious to find out who the dead guy in the fish shack really was.”

  “I wouldn’t mind knowing. Unless it was someone who used to live in Parson’s Cove, I guess I wouldn’t know the person. Having a name would be good though. Did you find anything else out? Does anyone know who killed the real Victor Fleming?”

  “That case is still unsolved. Whoever did it had help from the inside. The surveillance camera didn’t show anyone except the guard checking on Victor as he walked past. I watched it myself, Mabel, and no one went into that cell. Whoever murdered Victor was in and out and no one saw him.”

  “Could he have taken his own life?”

  “Not unless he figured out a way to strangle himself.”

  “What did the guard have to say for himself?”

  “He’s retired now but he was never a suspect. He swore there was no one in the cell with Victor.”

  “Well, someone saw the killer either coming or going. It’s just that no one is talking. With all that security, you can’t just walk into a prison cell, kill someone, and then go on your merry way. Isn’t someone monitoring every movement?”

  “There was a guard in the office watching all the monitors. He also swore he didn’t see anyone.”

  “Maybe he’s lying.”

  “Mabel, it was eight years ago but I’m sure the police did a thorough investigation.”

  “Okay, so we don’t know who but the other question is why. Why would anyone want to kill him in the first place? That’s what I don’t understand. I mean, you don’t usually get murdered for being stupid, do you?”

  “From what the cops could gather, Victor was always bragging. He wasn’t much of a crook but he was a good liar. They think he bragged about having money hidden away and that’s what got him killed.”

  “So, in other words, if there really was any money, the information died with him. Instead of wringing it out of him, the killer wrung his neck instead.”

  “I guess so. You have a way with words Mabel. Maybe someone tried to beat it out of him and killed him by accident. After all, you can’t get information from a corpse. Or, maybe he confessed that there really wasn’t any money and someone killed him for lying. The theory they’re working on now is that this fellow who came to Parson’s Cove impersonated him so he could somehow collect that money.”

  “Well, he’s been impersonating him for a long time now so obviously he was still hunting for the lost gold. This dead fellow wasn’t living a life of luxury. And then what? All of a sudden, this impersonator finds out that Victor really did have money stashed away some place here in Parson’s Cove? What were Victor Fleming and this dead fellow anyway? Buddies?”

  “They were both in the same prison. They weren’t in at the same time but word always gets around.”

  “Do you think this impersonator thought Victor gave it to Flori?”

  “It sounds like it to me. Maybe it was supposed to be gambling money. Or, Victor double-crossed somebody and stole his money. That is, if there is any money at all. Whatever happened, Victor went to prison for beating up a homeless man before he could get his hands on it. The guy impersonating him, Harry Cooper, for some reason, followed that trail here.”

  “So that’s the dead man’s name? Harry Cooper?”

  “Yep. About the same caliber crook as Victor, it seems.”

  “I think it’s no coincidence then that Nathan came across something on the internet that connected Victor Fleming with a Harry. Someone emailed a person named Harry to tell him that Victor was dead. They must be the same individual.”

  “Nathan found that out? Maybe we should just put him and his computer in a corner and let him solve all the mysteries. What kind of connection was it? Any chance he could have been the killer?”

  “You can check out what he found but it was basically a message saying that Victor was dead. I wouldn’t say he sounded like the guilty party. It does seem strange that he would end up here though. Do you think the money trail ended here after eight years of hunting? Was this sort of like looking for hidden treasure or something?”

  “I don’t know, Mabel. That sounds kind of farfetched, doesn’t it? Now that this Harry Cooper character is dead, the whole case has really opened up. What I would like to know is what part Jake Junior plays in all this.”

  “I’m sure he believed this character was Victor Fleming. He had no clue when I mentioned that it might be someone else.”

  There was a brief moment of silence.

  “You really got to talk to him? What did he say to you?”

  “Actually, Nathan and I popped over to the Station on Friday evening. I knew you were busy getting ready for your trip this morning so I didn’t want to bother you. I took over some coffee and muffins. Reg, you should invest in some decent coffee. That stuff you have there isn’t even coffee, it’s slough water.”

  “All right, Mabel. You are going back to your old tricks of trying to change the subject. As you know, I don’t mind that you went t
o see Junior. What I would like to know is if you got any info out of him. If anyone can make him talk, it’s probably you.”

  “Actually, Reg, he didn’t say anything but I was able to do some deducing.”

  “Deducing?”

  In the background, another voice said, “Deducing?”

  I glanced back at Nathan. He was sitting, anticipating my next words.

  Well, we were in this together, weren’t we? I guess I hesitated when it came to Nathan because I didn’t want him running off on his own, trying to solve the case. Or, perhaps it was a matter of pride. On my part, that is.

  “It wasn’t what he said; it was what he didn’t say, and what he did.”

  “You’ll have to explain that to me,” Reg said.

  Nathan was grasping the sides of his computer so hard his knuckles were white. “What does that mean?” he said.

  “Well, for one thing, he threatened me. He warned me not to go near Flori or Emma. That, he knows, is asking the impossible when it comes to my best friend. But what puzzles me, is why? Why would he not want me talking to them? What does that have to do with him sitting in jail? What does that have to do with some stranger dying in a fish shack?”

  “You say he threatened you. What exactly did he say, Mabel?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nathan leaning forward. I guess he thought I was going to start whispering.

  “He said that he would get someone to come to my house and keep me quiet.”