by Belle Astor
"Why, indeed I do George, but I'm not sure how much help they'll be. Come inside."
Mrs. Hopkins fussed over George, insisting that he stay for dinner. Lily, Maisie and George sat in Mrs. Hopkins' small dining room.
"Here are the exchanges. I took the liberty of checking the addresses and these calls went between two exchanges."
"That's a pity. I was hoping to go back with a lead. John Smith was an alias as far as we can find out."
"Has his photograph in the newspaper helped in any way?" Lily inquired to the shocked looks of George and Maisie.
"Only our suspicions about his name being John Smith. The earliest known whereabouts of our John Smith was from a year ago. Nothing before then." George said.
"Which means he was running from someone," Maisie said. "His dyed hair, the name change. This means he had deliberately changed his identity. Oh, George, this is a real doozy. What I wouldn't give to be working with you on trying to solve this case."
Maisie's eyes glazed over as she imagined herself sifting through the clues. She had a eureka moment when all the puzzles fell into place and the case was solved. In her day dream, she was dressed in her fabulous flapper dress. Her long pearls dangling from her neck as she posed for photographs with the culprit. Detective Maisie Mills is unstoppable, the headline wrote itself. She sighed.
"Wake up. You're daydreaming again, Maisie," Lily tapped her arm.
"Sorry, I was just imagining what it was like to be you or Detective Blake, George. It must be very rewarding."
"It is rewarding to catch the bad guys but not quite as romantic as you think Maisie. We have a new wave of crime hitting the streets now. We may have to let John Smith run cold."
"No, George, you can't!" Maisie exclaimed.
"Too many open cases, I'm afraid Maisie. Resources are stretched thin as it is. Despite people knowing our John Smith, no one has claimed his body. I don't think anyone is missing him. It's a fact of police work now. Not every case gets solved."
Lily and Maisie looked at each other.
"That's so sad, George."
"I'm sorry for bringing the mood down. Don't worry about it. We don't exactly forget about the case. If new information comes to hand, we'll look into it. Those hired guns don't exactly stick around to be pinched."
All Maisie could think was how unrewarding that was. Someone could get away with murder. Well, not on her watch.
"The woman, George. Who was the woman with him in the park? Did you talk the peeper?"
"Maisie, the woman is a ghost. The only woman we know connected to him is the landlady, and her color matches the hair we found. Not that we have much to go on. The peeper's a strange bird," George paused as he noticed the quizzical look on Lily's face.
"Lil, it means nobody's home, on top," George tapped his noggin. His sister nodded, and he continued, "It's very hard to get him to understand what we're asking him."
Mrs. Hopkins called them for dinner. Maisie was preoccupied trying to figure out a way to find new information. The peeper. Would he respond to her? The police may have frightened him.
"George, will you meet me at the park tomorrow to talk to the peeper? He may respond to a woman, to a couple." Her cheeks flushed. It was the very reaction she didn't want. She hoped George didn't get the wrong idea.
"I don't think so, that's a bit wet. No, Maisie, I couldn't risk you being harmed in any way." George was adamant this idea was a none runner.
"Tell Detective Blake that you want to wear plains clothes to get the peeper to open up. You have to work with him in his own environment, and you need a woman. I am prepared to play decoy. Think of the rewards if it works out, George. The peeper could have vital information. I know it. I'll be perfectly safe. You'll be there. Even have some other officers nearby if that helps."
Maisie wasn't going to let the opportunity go to part of a frame up.
"You'd be the one to have got that information and probably solve the case. George, all you have to do ask and if the detective says no then I'll pipe down, I promise."
Maisie noticed George fidget on his seat. He put his hand under his chin and she knew he was considering her idea. Her plan was growing on him. She knew he would welcome the opportunity to show Detective Blake how useful he was. He was weakening, she could tell, but he couldn't be seen to be a push-over.
"George, it's a thought, and you know I don't expect you to tell Detective Blake it was my idea."
George stayed quiet as he finished his dinner. He and Lily then talked about home some more. Maisie felt anxious as she waited to see if he had reconsidered.
"Time for me to go home," George stretched out and yawned. He stood up, thanking Mrs. Hopkins for dinner and Lily walked him to the door. Maisie stayed sitting. It disappointed her that he couldn't see the benefit of her plan.
Lily came back and told her what she wanted to hear. George would take her idea to Detective Blake. Maisie couldn't contain her excitement.
"Really, he'll do it. Oh, Lily, I'll get to be part of a real investigation. This is bigger than any other crime I've solved."
"But Maisie, it still has to be approved. I don't want you to be disappointed. George will let you know."
"I have no doubt that if George presents the idea properly, Detective Blake will go with it. He's the Real McCoy and will put the case ahead of his dislike of me. I am sure of it."
Maisie knew Lily wouldn't understand.
The following day brought the news Maisie was waiting for. The morning had been as usual and she and Lily had walked to work. Lily, with her newly acquired make up, got compliments. Maisie sat at her station, plugging and unplugging calls. She got startled when Miss Carnegie tapped her on the shoulder. What had she done wrong? Maisie went through the morning's events. She hadn't done anything to warrant a telling off. Had Miss Carnegie found out about her eavesdropping?
Maisie was about to protest. Then she saw Detective Blake standing by Miss Carnegie's desk. It was worse than she thought. George must have told the detective about her idea, and now the detective was going to get her fired.
"Miss Mills. Have a seat. Thank you, Miss Carnegie. As I explained, Miss Mills has kindly offered to help us on a case…"
"What case. Has she been involved in a crime?" Miss Carnegie seemed a little too eager to find a reason to fire her, Maisie thought.
"Nothing of the sort, I can assure Miss Carnegie. There have been some upsets in the park recently. Nothing to be alarmed about." He raised his hand as if to reassure Miss Carnegie. Maisie felt relieved he didn't mention her listening in on telephone conversations.
"We need a woman's help in this delicate matter, and Miss Mills has offered her help. It may mean she is gone for the afternoon."
Miss Carnegie stared at Maisie which was unnerving. Miss Carnegie's eyes squeezed together, but the look was gone in a flash. She turned to the detective and nodded her consent. With a wave of her hand, they were dismissed. The meeting was over. Her manner was equal to Detective Blake's. Maisie wondered how he felt about being dismissed, but his face gave nothing away.
As they left the telephone exchange, Maisie got excited.
"I'm so excited about this, Detective Blake. What did Officer Bantry tell you?"
"Officer Bantry said you had a stomach for this kind of work and would not easily be alarmed. He had a point. We must hurry."
The Detective said no more as Maisie followed him. He walked fast, and she had to break into a little run to keep up. It reminded her of when she was a little girl, walking with her father, trying to keep up with his stride. It was hardly the look of a sophisticated young woman that she wanted to portray. But she didn't really mind. She was going to part of an investigation.
"There is he," Detective Mills said as he spotted George who looked quite dapper in his glad rags.
"Here's the plan. I want you both to sit by the tree. The peeper must think you are a couple although I am asking you to do anything untoward. Remember you are at work George and we
have a civilian to protect. There are officers around. Officer Bantry knows the signal for them to come to your aid if the peeper gets rough. When the man is in custody, Officer Bantry has suggested a woman may get more information from him. If you don't mind, Miss Mills, your job is to ask him about the victim. Here is his photograph. Show it to him."
Maisie was giddy with excitement. She needed to settle herself down. This was serious, and she had to behave professionally. She put the photograph in her pocket, and she and George set off through the park.
"George, I knew you'd make this happen."
"I thought about what you said about being heavy handed with someone simple. It wasn't going to help. The Detective understands that. We'll sit by the tree. If you can remember what you saw that day, the way the man sat. It might trigger something."
"George that is a wonderful thought. Yes, I'll show you what I saw."
They came to the tree, and George automatically removed his coat to act as a blanket for Maisie to sit on. She sat down with her legs tucked under her. George sat on her far side as he could keep an eye on the bushes.
"He had his legs outstretched and was leaning against the tree," she told him. George adjusted his position. She leaned in a little closer.
"I don't remember the woman being at this side. She must have been at the other side. That's why I don't remember her. She was obscured by the tree. Which means…"
George and Maisie spoke at the same time.
"The boys would have seen her."
"Jinx." They both said and laughed. Maisie went to the other side of George.
"They've forgotten what they've seen. One of the reports said the woman and man were embracing."
Maisie shuffled in closer to George and put her arms around his neck to act out the death.
"What if she was kissing him, George. Could she have poisoned him with a kiss? With a cyanide capsule? She could have held him so tight that he couldn't do anything about it. Was that how she killed him?"
They were so close now, and Maisie was about to say something when a movement caught her eye. It was the peeper.
"George, we're being watched. I saw the bushes move."
"Okay, no sudden movements. I'll get up slowly, and you get up with me. We'll move towards the bush, and I'll jump in and catch him."
They moved together in unison as George looked from the corner of his eye and saw the man watching them. He broke free of Maisie and managed to grab the man's arm. He started to squeal.
"George, he's frightened." Maisie could see the look of terror on the man's face.
"It's okay. My name's Maisie, and this is my friend George. We want to talk." The man tried to move away again, but Maisie took some sweets from her pocket.
"Do you want a bonbon? What's your name?"
The man was interested in her sweets, and George let him move a little closer to Maisie.
"What's your name?"
The man grabbed a sweet and stuck it in his mouth. He looked away as he chewed.
"George, what do you know about him?"
"His name is Jake Lakes. He has no home of such."
"Then where would he get such a coat? Remember when we sat down, you lay your jacket on the ground for me. Is it possible?"
"Jake, you have a lovely coat," Maisie approached Jake.
"It's Jake's, not yours," the man snarled at her.
"Oh yes, it's yours, I'm admiring it. Where did you get such a fine coat? George would like one. Could I look at it more closely?"
"The man didn't need it, so it's Jake's now."
"I only want to read the label, so we know where to get a coat like it. The label is at the back of the collar, Jake. Here, have all the bonbons for letting me look at the label."
The deal appealed to Jake. He let Maisie reach behind and she gently pulled the collar back.
"George, no label. This was John Smith's coat."
"That's not all. Look, a strand of hair."
Maisie watched as George carefully removed the red strand of hair and put it in an evidence bag.
"Jake, do you remember the woman who was with the man." She pointed to the coat. Jake nodded.
"What did she look like?"
Jake recoiled.
"Did she frighten you?"
Jake nodded.
"George, I'm not sure if he can give a description, but if he saw her, then it may help him to remember. Especially if she frightened him, he wouldn't be likely to forget her face. Thank you, Jake. George is going to give you his coat. We need to take yours. It's a trade."
Jake shook his head.
"Maisie, my coat." George protested.
Maisie watched as Jake's interest in George's coat grew now that George protested.
"George, it's the only way to get the victim's coat. Plus he needs to keep warm. Remember, it's evidence."
Maisie was right. George had to do the exchange.
"Thank you, Jake. We may need to talk to you again. I'll bring more bonbons."
George released him. They returned to Detective Blake who wasn't best pleased that they had let the peeper walk away.
"But there's no place for him to go. Now he has my coat. Do you know how much it cost me, Maisie?"
"Very good work, Officer Bantry. Thank you, Miss Mills, you may return to work now." Detective Blake said as he studied the hair.
"But I've helped, please I can help some more," Maisie begged.
"No, Miss Mills. You have done your civic duty, and we must get on with this new information. Good day." Detective Mills raised and lowered his hat to signal the end of their conversation.
George said nothing as Maisie walked away. The Detective may dismiss her, but Maisie knew she had found a vital clue. It had to mean something.
Chapter Six
Maisie decided to follow George and Detective Blake. She didn't know why, but she wanted to watch them work. They entered the station, and she lingered on the sidewalk. Would she stay or go? She paced up and down, trying to come to a decision. She was curious about the coat and the hair.
A curious sight caught her attention. George and the Detective were escorting a woman from the station. Was she related to this case? The woman's cloche disguised her hair color. Maisie followed them. She had no idea of where they were going, but she persevered. For detectives, they didn't appear to be very vigilant. It surprised her that she managed to escape their detection as she followed them.
They stopped, and Maisie stopped leaning back into the wall. They were standing outside the city morgue.
"Oh, the poor woman," Maisie said to herself. "She must be here to identify someone."
She went as far as she dared, but the door was closed, and she could hear nothing. Minutes passed by. Maisie was almost caught when the door opened. She scurried in the opposite direction. She figured they would be returning to the station.
"Oh, my," Maisie had to catch her breath. She didn't want to be on the receiving end of Detective Blake's wrath. Feeling relieved, Maisie decided to return home. Now she just had to figure out the way. She had become so focused on following the group that she didn't pay attention to the streets. There was nothing for it, she'd have to retrace her steps until she was in familiar territory.
Maisie was turning a corner when she banged into George.
"I thought it was you shadowing us. If my detective sees you."
"George, you made me jump. Why would do such a thing?"
"Just to prove a point, you don't know what's lurking behind a corner. Just be thankful it wasn't my boss. But you'll never guess who that woman was."
George's eyes had a twinkle and Maisie he could tell he was dying to tell her something.
"I have no idea, George but she is obviously related to our John Smith."
George nodded.
"She's his wife! His name is Henry Jenkins. They married five years ago, and one day he just left her. That was two years ago. No word, no clue as to his whereabouts."
"But how did she find out
?" Then she answered her own question, the photograph in the newspaper.
"She wasn't sure as her husband, Henry, had been a little heavier and had graying hair. She said he had a birthmark on his left shoulder and sure enough, it was there. Then she did the strangest thing. She spat on him and screamed at his dead body for breaking her heart again."
Maisie was shocked.
But George continued, "I'd better get back to work. I told the detective I had left my notebook at the morgue. Now we have something to go on. No one leaves a life without reason. Someone must have been after him."
"George, what color is her hair?"
"Maisie, from what I could see, it doesn't match the hair we found on the coat. But who can tell. Remember Jake Lakes had the coat a few days. It could have come from anywhere."
"She could have worn a wig. Is the hair a clue? Could I see her George, face Mrs. Jenkins? It might help me remember. She wouldn't need to know I was there to view her."
"That's an excellent idea, Maisie. I'll see if I can come up with a way and bring in some of the other witnesses too. You would have made a fine detective. I'll call by later."
"Be sure to keep your word, George Bantry and call anytime. I'll be in the sitting room if it's very late. I just know I won't be able to sleep until I know about Mrs. Jenkins. I have a feeling a woman is behind this."
Maisie couldn't stop smiling as George disappeared from view. Lily was at home, waiting for Maisie. She was concerned and wondered if she had been fired. Maisie told her about being an honorary detective for the day.
Lily shuddered at the very thought of being so close to the action.
"Do you think Katie would cut my hair?"
Lily barely had the words out of her mouth when Maisie called out to Katie. Katie sat Lily down and wrapped a towel around her her shoulders. Lily went pale as she saw the scissors. She cried as she watched the hair that had been growing since she was a young girl fall to the floor.
"It's only hair, Lily. It grows back. You'll feel so much lighter."
Katie worked her magic as she added her take on the hairstyle.
"I won't make it too severe like mine and Maisie. In that way, you get accustomed to it. Almost done now. Good thing too. I have a date tonight. You should see my new dress that my beau bought for me. Ideal for dancing the Charleston."
