They were feeling a bit frustrated, but then, luckily, one of the fingerprint searches came up with a result.
“The person who wrote the threat about the gallery showcasing filth is a man named Jim Malkin,” said Ryan.
“I think we better pay him a visit,” Heather said. “And talk to him about the type of letters he’s been writing.”
“Yeah,” Amy agreed. “And we should call Peters and call him away from those donuts, and your assistant.”
THE FOUR INVESTIGATORS arrived at Jim Malkin’s front door.
"Who's there?" a voice yelled from behind the door when they knocked. "Go away, or I'll call the police."
“This is the police,” Amy answered.
The door opened slightly. “Show me a badge.”
Detective Peters and Ryan obliged and showed their badges.
“And who are they?” the man asked, poking a finger out the door to point at Heather and Amy.
“Private investigators who assist with certain cases,” Ryan said.
“What? You can’t do the job on your own?” Jim Malkin asked as he reluctantly opened his door.
“Maybe they just need more manpower on cases that are especially heinous,” Heather suggested. “Like arson and murder.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Jim said, starting to turn back into his house.
“We don’t know that you did,” Ryan said. “But we do know that your fingerprints are all over a threatening letter.”
Jim Malkin sighed. “Which one?”
“Which one?” asked Amy. “As in you sent multiple threatening letters? To different people?”
Jim coughed. “No.”
“We were looking at a letter that you sent to the Norwauld Gallery,” Detective Peters said. “Do you remember sending that one?”
“Maybe,” Jim said, rubbing his chin. “It seems to ring a bell. That’s the gallery that was planning on displaying nudity and filth in their display.”
“Why did you say was?” Heather asked.
“Well, if you’re here talking to me, something must have gone wrong. Am I right?” Jim Malkin said. “Is this the arson and murder you were referring to?”
“Why did you write that letter, Mr. Malkin?” Ryan asked.
“I do what I can to keep this town respectable. I let people know when they’re not living up to what a tropical paradise should be.”
“By sending threatening letters?” asked Amy.
“Is it better that galleries should be showing naked bodies on display?”
“Have you seen any of his paintings?” Amy challenged. “I wouldn’t hang one in my living room, but they’re not the offensive filth that everyone is talking about.”
“Are you one of those crazy artists, too?”
“Yes,” Amy said. “And an investigator trying to figure out who murdered Ernest Norwauld.”
“And who is that?” asked Jim Malkin.
“The owner of the gallery,” said Ryan.
“He died in a fire?” Jim asked.
“Yes. One that was deliberately started,” said Heather.
“Then he should have heeded my warning, I guess.”
“Saying things like that doesn’t make you look innocent,” Amy pointed out.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Jim said. “And you don’t have any proof that I did. All I did was send a letter.”
“A threatening letter to a man who was killed yesterday in a fire designed to stop an art exhibit from being showcased,” said Ryan. “Can you understand why we’re talking to you?”
“I didn’t start any fire,” Jim said.
“Where were you Saturday afternoon?” Detective Peters asked, ready to write down the answer on his notepad.
“I think I was here at home. But even if I wasn’t here, I wasn’t off killing nobody.”
“Did anybody see you here?” Heather asked.
“No,” Jim said. “I don’t think so.”
“Because you weren’t really here?” suggested Amy.
“I don’t have to take this,” Jim said. “I’m a proud citizen who has done nothing but try to make this town better. I didn’t kill anyone, and I don’t have to prove that. If you want to question me anymore, I think you’ll have to talk to my lawyer. I’ll just have to get myself a lawyer.”
He went back inside his house and locked the door. The investigators began walking away, feeling frustrated.
“Well, I think he makes a good suspect,” Amy said.
“He did write the letter,” Heather agreed.
“And he certainly sounded angry,” said Peters.
“But it also sounded like he sent lots of letters to people he was angry with,” said Heather.
“We’ll be looking into that, too,” Ryan assured them.
“What I mean,” Heather continued. “Is that he sent many threats. How many did he act on? If he’s never acted on any of them before, he might be someone who just likes to talk big.”
“But in letter form,” said Amy.
“Or there had to be something about this exhibit that caused him to be angrier than usual,” said Heather. “Then again, he said he didn’t know who Ernest Norwauld was.”
"Did he say that just because he denied involvement in the murder?" asked Peters.
“Maybe,” said Heather. “But if he didn’t know who the owner was, then I’m not sure how he could have known enough about the building to sneak inside and set the fire.”
“He doesn’t have a real alibi,” said Ryan. “I think he’s still someone to keep an eye on.”
Heather nodded. “But seeing what we did about this letter writer, I’d really like to meet the other one.”
SAND AND SUSPICIOUS
M iss Marshmallow is so dainty that she checks her paws after she steps in the sand. I don't know how she survives on this island," Amy said.
"She's lucky that she has a professional dog groomer as a foster parent," Jamie agreed.
Heather watched her two friends look lovingly at the long-haired dog who was slowly and gracefully walking across the sand. Then she looked at her own dog who was chasing the waves with wild enthusiasm.
They were at one of the more secluded dog beaches on the island. Not many people knew about it, and their group was alone there that evening. This was fortuitous because Cupcake was with them, and other dogs might not be as welcoming of the cat-who-thought-she-was-a-dog. However, she was happily playing fetch with Lilly.
“Who do you want to talk to next?” Amy asked.
“I hope we can find the person who wrote the other threatening letter,” Heather answered. “I’d really like to talk to him. I also wouldn’t mind talking with the wife again. She acted suspiciously, but I suppose she has a good alibi. Maybe we should talk to the assistant Tina again and see if she really could gain anything from the gallery closing. I think it might also be helpful to find out more about the art on display too. I wonder who would be best to talk to about that.”
“Um,” Amy said. “I was talking to Jamie about the dog.”
Heather laughed.
“But we can talk about the case too,” said Amy.
“Yeah,” Jamie said with a smile. “All I have to add about potential adopters is that I found a woman who is interested. We can choose a time for her to come by this week and meet Miss Marshmallow.”
“Sounds good,” said Amy. “Hopefully, she won’t have kids in their terrible twos who want to wrestle with the dog.”
Dave returned from chasing the waves and came closer to the humans. He decided this was the perfect time to shake off the saltwater that was on his fur.
“Dave!” Heather yelled as she tried to protect herself from the droplets hitting her face.
Dave looked very pleased with himself, but realizing that Heather wasn’t, he came over and licked her hand. She started petting her canine best friend.
Miss Marshmallow looked scandalized by the whole turn of events. She turned to Amy and put her paw on her leg. Amy lifted
her up.
“What’s that face?” Amy asked her friend.
Heather had been thinking that Amy looked like the perfect pet parent, but she didn’t want to admit that was what had crossed her mind.
“Just thinking about the case again,” Heather said, quickly.
“Any progress?” Jamie asked. “Investigating an arson death must be difficult because the fire must have damaged a lot of clues.”
"There are definitely fewer fingerprints from inside the building,” Amy said as she pet the dog in her arms.
“Fire Frank is helping us interpret some of the arson clues,” said Heather. “And we did figure out the time of death because of the timer that he found. Unfortunately, it was made with simple parts that anyone could have access to.”
“Do you have any suspects?” asked Jamie.
“It had to be somebody who wanted to hurt the gallery or destroy L’artiste Andrews’s work,” said Heather.
“We think that Ernest Norbaum being there was just bad luck," Amy explained. "He didn't have a set schedule or anything, so there was no reason why he should have been there. There was nothing more that he needed to do for the gallery opening until that night. Well, except let me inside with my sculpture, but he made it sound like he was going to be at his house until I called him and let him know that I was there. He lives nearby."
“That’s such a shame that he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Jamie said.
“If it was Jim Malkin who set the fire, he doesn't seem too concerned that the gallery owner died because of it," Heather said. "But I don't know if he would actually have carried out a plan like that."
“He was the guy who sent a threatening letter?” asked Jamie.
“That’s right,” said Amy. “He told Mr. Norbaum that he was displaying filth and to stop it or else. Maybe the or else was the fire.”
“Ryan was able to make the match of Jim Malkin’s fingerprints to what was on the letter because he was already in the police database. Ryan did some digging to find out the circumstances after our talk with him didn’t go very well. It looks like the charges were dropped, but Jim Malkin was making threats against someone else. He didn’t like a restaurant using a shark in their advertising. He thought it was in poor taste on an island.”
“He didn’t try to set the restaurant on fire, did he?” asked Amy.
“No,” said Heather. “He dressed up as shark and laid in front of the restaurant as a protest. Then he started harassing the owners and threatening to bite them. They agreed to drop charges if he left them alone and got rid of his suit."
“I can’t believe the man who was yelling at us on his porch about keeping the island a paradise was lying in front of a restaurant dressed like a big fish,” said Amy. “But I guess it could be an angry fish.”
“Maybe he decided to do something sneakier?” Jamie suggested. “Something that would definitely stop what he wanted to protest, but wouldn’t be as obvious that he was involved.”
“Maybe,” said Heather.
Her cell phone rang, and she answered it. It was Ryan, and she smiled when she finished the call.
“Good news?” asked Amy.
“Ryan discovered who wrote the other threat. Want to go talk to her?”
THE BURNING THREAT
Did you find the match for these fingerprints from the database for criminals and dropped-charges suspects too?” asked Amy.
"No," Ryan said. "When I couldn't find a match in the usual databases, I checked some of the more random ones. I'm glad I did. This match came from the background checks for people on a special committee for the mayor."
“For the mayor?” Heather asked. “Meaning the person who wrote the threat telling a gallery they should burn right before it was set on fire has been working with the mayor?”
“That’s right,” said Ryan.
“Why aren’t we racing to pick them up right now with sirens blazing?” Amy asked.
“She told us that she would come in and speak to us right away,” Ryan said. “I didn’t give her any details about what we wanted to speak to her about. She might think she’s a helpful witness. I think it will catch her more off guard when we tell her about the matching fingerprints on the threat and might cause her to talk.”
“Tricky, tricky,” Amy said.
“What can you tell us about her?” Heather asked.
"Her name is Mary Sanchez, and she's on a party planning committee for the mayor. She's also been involved in trying to keep the parties that tourists throw on spring break from becoming wild and raucous."
“Well, I bet the mayor would be interested to know what she’s been up to lately,” Heather said.
“The mayor knows all about my hard work and plans to restore tranquility and wholesome fun to the island.”
They spun around and saw Detective Peters leading a woman inside the station. She was a middle-aged woman with perfectly styled hair.
“You must be Mary Sanchez,” Ryan said.
“And you must be the Detective Shepherd who called me. Please tell me what I can help you with. Have teenage hooligans been up to pranks? We’ve been trying to come up with new ideas for activities to keep them out of trouble. I’d like to hold a dance for the teens, but some others on the planning committee think that my strict enforcement of the six-inch apart while dancing rule would turn some youngsters away. Is that what you would like my help with?”
“Why don’t we go into the other room?” Ryan suggested. “It would make things more official.”
Mary Sanchez complied and followed him into the interrogation room. She didn’t look pleased as she sat down, but she didn’t complain.
“Perhaps we should have more formal introductions?” Mary suggested. “I just love getting to know one another around the table.”
“This is a table in an interrogation room,” said Amy.
“And who are you?”
“Amy Givens, private investigator and artist.”
“You must be a busy lady.”
“I’ve also been taking care of a very temperamental dog.”
“Mrs. Sanchez, as you know, I’m Detective Shepherd. This is my partner, Detective Peters. And these two are private investigators who sometimes assist us: Amy Givens and Heather Shepherd. And now that we’ve done introductions as you wished, we have some very serious questions to ask you.”
“You two have the same last name,” Mary said. “Are you a husband and wife team working to better the community?”
“You might say that,” Heather nodded. “Right now, we’re trying to help the community by uncovering who has been sending out threatening letters.”
Mary paled the slightest bit, but then said, "Threatening letters? Oh my. That does sound like a serious matter."
“Mrs. Sanchez, do you recognize this letter?” Ryan asked, revealing the threat that Tina Bauer had given them.
“Should I recognize it?”
“You didn’t answer his question,” Amy said.
Mary swallowed and then said, “No.”
“If you don’t recognize it, can you explain how your fingerprints came to be on the letter?” Ryan asked.
“Oh dear,” Mary said. “Well, maybe I did write that. And maybe I did send it. But what I said might have been taken out of context.”
Heather was anxious to hear this one. “How?”
“Well, my use of the word burn might not have been a threat. It might have been in reference to a piece of work. Or it might have been a compliment.”
“The compliment is to burn?” asked Amy.
“It might be a slang term? Meaning something positive?” Mary suggested.
“I don’t believe so, ma’am,” Detective Peters said.
“All right. Fine. I did send it. I just wanted to scare the Norwauld Gallery. I thought what they planned on showing was despicable. L’artiste Andrews used nudity in art just to create controversy. And I heard the models were posing with lawn flamingoes. How disgusting. I
thought this threat might cause them to reconsider the exhibit.”
“And if they didn’t reconsider?” Heather asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What did you plan to do if they still opened the exhibit?”
“I didn’t have anything else planned,” Mary said. “I just sent the letter. I thought it would stop them.”
“Did it make you angry when you learned that the Norwauld Gallery still planned on having the exhibit?” Detective Peters asked.
“Honestly, I had moved on to other projects by then,” said Mary.
“Why did you decide to use the word burn in your threat?” Ryan asked.
“Because it was short and scary,” Mary said.
“So, it had nothing to do with planning to set the gallery on fire if they continued with their plan to showcase L’artiste Andrews's work?" asked Ryan.
“What?” said Mary. “No. I had no plans for that. Is that what happened? Was the gallery burned down?”
"A fire was set there, and it was heavily damaged," Detective Peters said.
“There was also a person inside at the time,” Heather said. “Meaning that he was killed. And the arson crime has also become felony murder.”
“This is outrageous,” Mary said. “I couldn’t have had anything to do with that. I would never kill another community member or destroy property like that. I’m a good person. I work with the mayor.”
“You did threaten the owner and the gallery,” Ryan pointed out.
“But I wouldn’t do anything to follow through with it,” Mary said. “I just don’t like galleries showcasing naked people and calling it art. But I wouldn’t have started a fire.”
“Where were you Saturday afternoon?” asked Ryan.
“I was with Teresa Hart most of the day,” said Mary. “Do you know who she is?”
“She owns a hall where private events take place,” Heather said. “I served donuts and then conducted an investigation at one of those parties.”
“If you know her, then you know how solid her word is,” Mary said, nodding. “She’ll tell you that we were together all afternoon. I was trying to plan a party at her hall. An anti-spring break party.”
Coconut Frosted & Murder Page 4
