by Alice Duncan
“The head of the law firm—he didn’t have anything to do with the murder or the drug smuggling—is Mr. Stephen Hastings. Not that he’s a nice man, but at least he didn’t kill anybody. His son, Edward, was the poor fellow who was killed.”
“I see, I think,” said Ma.
“What does the poor boy’s murder have to do with the drug trade?” asked Pa, and reasonably, too, I believe.
Deciding I’d already said too much on the subject, I glanced at Sam, who sat across the table from me. He obligingly took over the tale.
“It was Mr. Grover who spilled the beans. He was a nervous wreck when we finally found him. He swore up and down and back and forth that he’d been forced into the dirty business when the young Hastings discovered incriminating evidence against Mr. Millette and asked Grover about it. Grover told Millette, and Millette somehow made arrangements for Kincaid to escape from San Quentin. Instead of heading to Mexico, as Millette had ordered him to do, with the promise of sending him payments from the drug business, he came to Pasadena. This infuriated Millette, of course.”
“And frightened his ex-wife,” I plunked in.
Sam’s eyes paid a brief visit to the ceiling. “Yes. And frightened his ex-wife.”
“She called me one day in a tizzy—”
“Typical,” muttered Vi.
“—and swore it was Mr. Kincaid who’d murdered Eddie Hastings.”
“Which was pure bunkum,” said Sam, taking over the narrative once more. “He was still in prison when the Hastings lad was killed. But he was killed by an overdose of heroin, which tied his murder into the drug case the police department has been working on for a long time.”
“Heroin?” said Ma. “I thought a heroine was a lady hero.”
Sam and I looked at each other, and burst out laughing.
“Well, I don’t see what’s so funny about that,” said Ma, miffed.
I wiped my streaming eyes on my napkin. “It’s not funny, Ma. But it’s exactly the same thing I said when Dr. Benjamin told me the cause of Eddie Hastings’ death. And it’s exactly what Belinda Young said to me when I told her the cause of Eddie’s death.”
“Hmph. I still don’t see what’s so funny.”
Sam explained all about heroin. “But Kincaid’s in real trouble now. He shot at police officers, and that’s a serious crime. I doubt he’ll be able to live the soft life in the prison library any longer. He’s in for hard time.”
“Good,” I said, feeling vindicated. I despised Mr. Eustace, the fiend, Kincaid. With a sinking heart, I realized I’d have to telephone Mrs. Pinkerton with the news. She’d be thrilled and then go into a frenzy, and I’d have to take myself and Rolly over to her house to give aid and assistance. Crumbs.
Then Sam looked at me, a strange expression on his face. I was instantly on the alert.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded.
“Well . . . don’t look now, Daisy, but I think you’re in for another commendation from the Pasadena Police Department for your help in solving two unsolved crimes.”
My parents, aunt, and I all gaped at each other. I’d received a certificate of commendation from the PPD when I’d helped them smash a bootlegging operation. But my part in that case had been a total accident.
Come to think of it, so was my part in this one.
I set my fork on my plate and bowed my head. “I don’t think I can stand it, Sam.”
“Buck up, kid,” said he with a broad grin. “If you can hold up a man with a pair of chopsticks, you can handle receiving another certificate of commendation.”
He was right, of course. I hate when that happens.
Last but not least, I’m pleased to report that not a single spirit has sullied one of my séances since Eddie Hastings made his alarming appearance. I sincerely hope this dearth of death-come-alive will continue forever.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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Award-winning author Alice Duncan lives with a herd of wild dachshunds (enriched from time to time with fosterees from New Mexico Dachshund Rescue) in Roswell, New Mexico. She’s not a UFO enthusiast; she’s in Roswell because her mother’s family settled there fifty years before the aliens crashed. Alice would love to hear from you at [email protected]. And be sure to visit her Web site at http://www.aliceduncan.net and her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/alice.duncan.925.
