Detective Flint Box Set: A Detective Story Box Set Books 1-3

by Nancy McGovern

  Luckily, Flint reached the bottom of the stairs without incident. The basement air was even damper and colder down there. He could hear the wind howling around in the darkness, sounding like hideous creatures waiting to pounce on innocent souls. Using the darkness to his benefit, Flint stuck out his left hand and maneuvered his way toward the back of the basement, bumping into mildewed boxes, old mannequins that nearly caused him to begin shooting, and pieces of forgotten furniture.

  When he reached the back of the basement, he paused. Using his left hand, he fished out a small flashlight from the left pocket of his overcoat. Turning on the flashlight, he aimed it at the basement wall. A small opening, just large enough for a man to fit his body through, stood at the bottom of the wall. Kneeling down, Flint examined the opening as more cold damp air poured upward from the hole.

  Shaking his head, Flint stood up. Splashing the flashlight around, he caught sight of the dumbwaiter. Spotting a rusted chain hanging down from a light fixture attached the basement ceiling, Flint pulled the chain. Dim, weak, light flickered through the basement weakly, but just strong enough to allow Flint to click his flashlight off.

  Let's cover the hole.

  Slowly Flint began to cover the opening with old furniture - a couch, an antique chair, a bookshelf, an old chest of drawers. Flint barricaded the furniture against the hole in such a way that no one would be able to get through without getting a hernia first.

  I might have given myself a hernia, too, Flint told himself as he left the basement.

  He checked his trap when he got back to the kitchen. The bag of flour was still sitting on the stool. Shaking his head, Flint strode over to a green phone hanging beside a tall green refrigerator, then called Chief Cunningham. “Yeah, Chief, I need some moles to explore a cave for me… No sign of the killer, but he was here... Food was poisoned... I need you to drag Mandy Garland and Chef Rogers in for me... Yeah, see you soon.”

  After hanging up the phone, Flint left the kitchen and methodically checked the downstairs portion of the house.

  While he was checking the library, which was covered with a red heavy carpet and lined with darkwood bookshelves bursting with wonderful novels, Matt walked in. “Anything?” he asked Flint.

  Flint hesitated to answer. He leaned against the large green leather reading chair by the fireplace. “Did you know about the cave in the basement?” he asked.

  Matt stared at Flint. “Cave?”

  “You and your brother did check the basement, didn't you?”

  “We sure did,” Matt insisted. “Thoroughly. We didn't spot any cave.”

  Flint nodded. “I believe you.” And he did believe Matt. “Where’s Dave?”

  “On post outside of Haley's door,” Matt said. “Now, what about this cave?”

  “That's how the killer got into the house. Which means the killer is familiar with this house. Don't worry, I gave myself a hernia covering the cave. A small hole, not very big, leads down into the cave. I have some men on their way to go cave diving for me.”

  “Oh my god,” Matt said, shaking his head. “Flint, we searched the basement, I swear.”

  “I believe you, I believe you,” Flint said. “Relax, okay? I can read people, Matt, and I know you and your brother are on the up-and-up.”

  “I want to see this cave,” Matt said.

  “Downstairs in the basement. You'll see the mountain of furniture I put over it. Don't move anything.”

  Matt nodded, then rushed out of the library. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Just after he left, Tori stepped in. With her gun at the ready, she spotted Flint. “Did I just hear you say the killer was in the house?”

  Flint nodded. “He poisoned the food,” he said. “Chief Cunningham is going to drag Garland and Rogers in for us.”

  “And did I really hear you say something about a cave?” She closed the library door behind her, looking incredulous.

  Flint explained the small opening he found in the basement. “Old houses like this, never know what you’ll find.”

  Tori slowly put her gun away. “The killer knows the design of this house, then.”

  “Yep,” Flint said. “What did you get from Haley Frost?”

  “She hates acting,” Tori said. After walking to the fireplace, she ran her finger over the mantle. “Very clean.”

  “We need to check to see who cleans this house,” Flint said, making a mental note. “What else did you get from her?”

  “She feels sorry for Mandy Garland, thinks the old hag is a sad old woman worried about her nest egg,” Tori said. “Haley is a good girl, Flint. She's level headed. Before Mandy noticed her in New York, she was attending nursing school.”

  “What?”

  “Haley was attending nursing school in New York and--” Tori began to explain.

  “No, what did you say about Mandy Garland noticing Haley Frost?”

  “Oh, Mandy Garland was in the audience of a play Haley was acting in. She noticed Haley,” Tori explained. “I know, I found that awful curious myself. Also, Mandy Garland checks Haley's Post Office box for her. And, Flint, this house belongs to Haley's parents, who inherited it from her grandparents, who... and get ready for this... were in the entertainment business.”

  Flint chewed on the information. “I thought this might be some kind of publicity stunt.”

  “Me, too,” Tori said. “But Flint, if the food was poisoned, it couldn't have been Mandy Garland. I saw her leave with Chef Rogers from the upstairs window.”

  “I don't think Rogers poisoned the food,” Flint said, and began to explore the books lining the bookshelves. “I'm not marking him off our list, but my gut tells me he's Garland's relative. An uncle, maybe?”

  “Flint,” Tori said excitedly, following him around the library, “Mandy Garland has to be behind this. You saw her, Flint, that woman would have cut off our ears if she could have. You also saw the way she controlled Haley. I'm not sure what the motive is, but I'm sure Mandy Garland is connected to all of this.”

  Flint spotted Treasure Island. Pulling the book out, he brought Mandy Garland's face into his mind. It was obvious the woman was walking a suspicious path, which made him wonder.

  “Arnold, if Garland is connected to this, why would she make it so obvious?” he asked. “I'm not discarding your suggestion because I'm on the same path. But...”

  “You think Mandy Garland has a different motive for Haley?” Tori asked, catching onto Flint's train of thought.

  Flint replaced the book. “Could be. I'm awful curious to know why she was in New York at Haley's play. The timing had to be planned. We've got out work cut out for us on this one. But for the time being, what I want is for forensics to dust this entire house and pull every single fingerprint they can. I don't want to waste time chasing dead ends. Let's see what fingerprints turn up and go from there. We might get lucky.”

  “Good idea,” Tori agreed. “We do have a problem, though. Haley is hungry, Flint.”

  “Call the Chief and tell him to bring a pizza with him,” Flint said, then left the library.

  Tori leaned against the bookshelf. “Yeah, without anchovies,” she said, then looked up at the ceiling. “Don't worry, Haley, we're going to protect you.”

  *****

  In the basement, Matt examined the barricade Flint had created. Angry that, somehow, he and his brother had missed a vital clue, he kicked an old couch. Down below in the cave, a dark figure stared up at the opening, grinned, and slithered away into the darkness. “In time,” the dark figure hissed, “in time, Haley, my love.”

  *****

  The following morning, Flint and Tori left Haley's bedroom and headed downstairs. As soon as they reached the kitchen, Flint went straight for the coffee. Chief Cunningham was leaning against the kitchen counter, sleepy-eyed but awake. Holding a brown coffee mug in his hand, he greeted Flint and Tori with a nod. “Grab some coffee.”

  Flint spotted two brown mugs Chief Cunningham had placed on the kitchen co
unter for him and Tori. Not wasting any time, he grabbed a mug and filled it with fresh, strong-smelling coffee. “What's the news?”

  “The cave you found goes out into the canyon. The cave is tight and narrow, but passable,” Chief Cunningham explained. He waited for Tori to pour herself a cup of coffee before continuing. “Forensics spent all night dusting for prints. We'll see what comes up. How's Haley?”

  “Sleeping,” Tori said, sipping her coffee. “Matt and Dave are standing guard outside of her bedroom door.”

  “Did the team come in and cement the opening in the basement shut?” Flint asked.

  Chief Cunningham nodded. “Unless the killer has a sledge hammer, he won't get through. When the rain stops, I'll have the outside opening cemented shut, too. What matters now is that the house is secure.”

  “Is it?” Flint wondered. Sipping his coffee, he fought back a yawn. “I need to question Garland and Rogers, Chief.”

  “They're both downtown,” Chief Cunningham replied, putting down his coffee. “Arnold, I want you to stay here with Haley. I'll have some of my men watch the outside for you. Flint, you can come with me downtown and conduct your questioning. But let me warn you, we're already being threatened with a lawsuit. Ms. Garland is a very angry woman. I'm not saying pat the woman on her shoulder, but go easy. She said you two really gave her a hard time last night.”

  “That old bag gave us the hard time,” Tori told Chief Cunningham. “Sir, that woman has manipulated an innocent girl and Flint and I believe she has... suspicious motives toward Haley.”

  Chief Cunningham‘s expression changed. “Go on,” he said.

  Tori was surprised that Chief Cunningham didn't turn to Flint for an explanation. “Well,” she said, putting down her coffee, “Flint and I are not eliminating Ms. Garland from out list of suspects, but we do believe the woman has a suspicious motive. Also, sir, if it's all right and with your permission, we need to question Haley's parents.”

  “Why?”

  “Haley told me last night that her parents are divorced and both are remarried to different people,” Tori said. “The woman Haley's father remarried directs plays in New York. This woman began asking Haley to be in her plays. Chief, Ms. Garland just so happened to show up at a play Haley was acting in. I find that strange.”

  Flint watched Tori hold her ground with the Chief.

  Chief Cunningham rubbed his chin. “I'll give Haley's father a call. You may have something.”

  Flint winked at Tori.

  “Also,” Tori continued, “Haley's mother remarried a dentist. They live in Seattle now. I think that's a dead end, but still, I would like to speak to the woman.”

  “I understand,” Chief Cunningham said. “Flint, Arnold can follow up with her lead. I want you to question Ms. Garland and Mr. Rogers. Arnold, wait until I give the green light before calling Haley's father. I want to speak to the man first, friend to friend. I'm sure you understand that.”

  “I do,” Tori assured him. “Well, I better get back upstairs. If Haley is still sleeping, I might nap in the sitting chair a while.”

  “I'll be back before sunset,” Flint said. “I'll bring back some food, too.”

  Tori paused. “Flint, if you bring back Chinese food I'm gonna slug you a good one. Please, for the love of everything good, just grab some cheeseburgers and milkshakes.”

  Flint drained his coffee. “Arnold, wise man say, don't bite the hand that feeds you.”

  “Wise man is dumb,” Tori grumbled and walked out of the kitchen.

  “She's coming along,” Chief Cunningham said proudly. “I had my doubts at first, but you're doing a fine job with her, Flint. I'm pleased with Arnold's progress.”

  “We were all green once,” Flint said. “Arnold has a sharp mind to her. She just needs a good hand to guide her in the right direction. The more experience she gains the better she'll get. Who knows, maybe one of the days she'll become a better detective than the both of us.”

  “Flint, that may be true. Come on, let's get to the station house.”

  *****

  An hour later, Flint was sitting in a gray room with Chef Rogers. Chef Rogers sat smoking a cigarette, sitting behind a blue table on a metal chair. The old man was angry, annoyed, tired, and hungry. “I did not poison the stew,” he snapped at Flint.

  Flint swatted cigarette smoke away from his nose. Grateful to have finally kicked the habit, he didn't need to be tempted into relapsing. “I didn't say you did, did I?” he said. “But the stew was poisoned.”

  “I told you,” Chef Roger's said, “I put the lid back on the stew, turned off the stove, and left through the back door. I walked around to the front drive, got into Mandy's car, and drove away with her.”

  “Yeah, Detective Arnold saw you two leave together. What is she, Rogers, your niece or something?”

  Chef Rogers stiffened at Flint's question. Taking a deep drag from his cigarette he exhaled slowly. “Why do you ask such a question?”

  “Knock off the phony accent,” Flint barked. “I know you're American born. I've run your record.”

  Chef Rogers stared at Flint with cold eyes. “Okay, so you know,” he said, speaking in a flat, angry, American accent. “I'm from Minnesota. Mandy is my niece. So what?”

  Flint nodded. Actually, he hadn't run Chef Rogers record. Melinda was working on running the man’s background for him. Sometimes bluffing paid off. “Talk to me or it's jail for you. You were the last one in the kitchen and all evidence points directly to you, Rogers.”

  Chef Rogers extinguished his cigarette in a metal ashtray. “What do you want to know, huh? Do you want to know that my business in Minneapolis was closed because a customer nearly died from food poisoning? My business license was snatched from me and every cent was taken from my bank account. I left Minnesota ashamed. My niece, Mandy, took me in. She managed to get me a position at a country club. I’ve been there every since. Then she calls me and asks me to do her a favor. She needs me to cook for one of her clients. I felt the need to repay my debt to my niece, so I did as she asked me. It's that simple.”

  “Is it?” Flint asked. “Rogers, you never asked any questions? You never wondered why you were asked to cook for Haley Frost? Didn't it seem odd to you last night that two detectives showed up at her home?”

  Chef Rogers reached for a second cigarette. “I had my suspicions, but who am I to ask? My niece was very kind to me, detective. When the world betrayed me, she opened her arms and took me in. It is because of her that I still cook.”

  “Why don't you retire? You're old enough.”

  “Retiring is for people who wish to die,” Chef Rogers said, and lit his cigarette with an orange cigarette lighter. “I have been married four times. Each of my wives has since remarried. I have no children. I am alone in the world. What should I do, detective? Settle down in a nursing home and drool on myself all day? Cooking is my life.”

  “Calm down,” Flint said. Leaning back in his chair, he studied the old man. “Had you ever met Haley Frost, before being asked to come to her home and cook for her?”

  Chef Rogers shook his head. “Unlike some people, I do not care to beg for autographs. I have my own life to live.”

  “That wasn't my question.”

  Chef Rogers stared at Flint. “No, I have never met my niece's client before.”

  Flint nodded. “Why the phony accent?”

  “Habit,” Chef Rogers explained. “In my restaurant in Minneapolis, I used a fake accent to charm my customers with. Sometimes I speak with the accent without realizing I'm doing it.”

  Flint nodded and stood up. “You ever use the dumbwaiter in the pantry?”

  Chef Rogers shook his head. “Why would I?”

  “Okay,” Flint said, “here's the deal. I'm holding you here for now. Until I can prove that you didn't put the arsenic in the stew, you're my number one suspect. I believe you didn't poison the stew, but then again, I could be wrong.”

  “The odds are always against me,” Chef
Rogers said.

  Flint left the gray room. Out in the hallway, he saw Chief Cunningham walk up with Mandy Garland. “I will have your job,” she told Flint in a poison voice. “By the time I am finished with you, you won't be able to issue parking tickets. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Why did you put arsenic in the stew?” Flint asked Mandy in a calm voice. Hoping to take the woman off guard, he knew he had to change his tactics.

  “How dare you insinuate that I tried to poison Haley?!” Mandy nearly yelled.

  “Well,” Flint said, speaking in a calm, soothing voice, “it was either you or Chef Rogers. I don't believe it was you, Ms. Garland. If you can help me prove it was Chef Rogers, we can wrap this entire matter up.”

  Mandy stared at Flint. Suddenly, her face turned pleasant. “Why, of course, detective. I'll help you any way I can. If Chef Rogers tried to kill my precious Haley, then he needs to be brought to justice.”

  Flint nodded, and Chief Cunningham gave him a knowing grin. Without realizing it, Mandy Garland had allowed herself to be caught in a trap.

  *****

  Chapter 3

  Cloudy Skies

  Mandy patiently lit a cigarette.

  “Detective Flint, my Uncle is a very… how shall we say… disturbed man.”

  Flint folded his arms. He needed to know who the killer was. Obviously it wasn't Mandy or Chef Rogers, but his gut told him Mandy was somehow connected to the killer. “Yeah,” he said in a relaxed voice, coming across as a fake team member rooting for Mandy, “your uncle told me a pool of lies about you.”

  Mandy stared at Flint from across the interrogation table. Her eyes narrowed. Taking a draw from her cigarette, she began to form a response. The truth was, she considered her uncle to be a burden. But, the man was her mother's brother, and her mother did make Mandy promise that she would always take care of him if the time ever arrived. Perhaps she didn't care for Chef Rogers, but she considered a dying woman's wish very important in her cold heart. “Uncle Rogers should be placed in a home,” Mandy finally said. “He is beyond his years... very old school.”