by Donna Doyle
As soon as JJ had so rudely turned around and walked off, she spotted Deputy Digby. The blond haired, skinny policeman with his timid smile and baby-blue eyes had always respected her, and if JJ wouldn't listen, maybe Digby would.
Full of determination Molly Gertrude strode to the deputy, who had just finished taking Billy Monroe's statement.
"Check that cake, Digby," she said as she approached the man, while waving her finger in the direction of the cake. "It may very well have been an accident, but check-that-cake." She articulated the words deliberately.
Digby looked up from his notepad and when he heard what Molly Gertrude had said, he began to scratch his blond hair under his police cap with his pen. For a moment he stared with big, round eyes at Molly Gertrude. "Why, Miss Grey?"
"I hope I am wrong, but something smells fishy here."
Digby gave her a blank stare. "I don't smell anything, Miss Grey…"
Molly Gertrude shook her head. "I mean, Digby, what if that cake was poisoned?"
The man's face paled. "You believe the cake was poisoned? But it was an accident, wasn't it?"
Molly pressed her lips together. "We will never know unless you take it to the laboratory. Isn't it common sense to get all the facts straight when somebody may have died? We can't just assume the poor man suffered asphyxiation. We need to be certain."
Digby frowned. "I'll check with my boss."
"Don't," Molly said, more forceful than she wanted. "He as good as said the case is closed…" The man licked his lips and hesitated.
"Please, Digby…" Molly put on her sweetest smile. "Just do it for me… as a favor."
Digby tilted his head. "But if I…"
"The lab will be happy to have something to do," Molly insisted.
Digby's face brightened. "Alright, Miss Grey. I'll scoop up some of the cake and bring it to the lab."
Molly smiled, glad this victory was won. "Be sure to take some of the stuff that was on his plate, will you Digby? I am mostly interested about the stuff that went into his mouth."
Digby nodded. "Consider it done, Miss Molly."
4
Strange discoveries
Molly Gertrude had just been filling up Misty's saucer with milk and stared pensively at her furry friend, who was greedily licking up the white cream, when the doorbell rang. A timid, short ring it was, and Molly Gertrude raised her brows. She did not expect anyone this early. A glance at the old-fashioned wall-clock told her it was barely 9.00 in the morning.
"Coming," she called out, as she grabbed hold of her walking cane and waddled towards the door. When she peered through the peephole, she raised her brows, as there, looking vulnerable and forlorn was the silhouette of Charmayne Mortimer Monroe.
"Charmayne?" she sputtered, "What a surprise."
Charmayne's eyes were puffy and red, and Molly Gertrude understood. That poor girl's life had been turned upside down. Most likely Charmayne had not slept very well, and that was not because of her wedding night.
"May I come in, Miss Grey?" Her voice was barely audible.
"Of course, dear." Molly Gertrude opened the door wide and made room for her.
No sooner had Charmayne sunk into the seat Molly Gertrude always reserved for visitors, she let out a sob, and stared with watery eyes at Molly Gertrude. Her glance was a strange mixture of emotions. Fear, grief, pain, and Molly Gertrude even sensed a little anger.
For a moment Molly Gertrude feared Charmayne was about to blame her for the whole unfortunate affair; for allowing someone else to have made that cake, or for another yet to be disclosed reason. But when Charmayne started to talk, Molly Gertrude understood.
“Have you heard from the hospital, dear?”
“Yes, Daddy is breathing, thank the good Lord, but he is still in a coma.”
“Oh, my dear. What a relief he is not…”
Molly could not bear to say the word.
“Dead,” Charmayne completed Molly’s sentence.
"I believe…," she asserted in a soft, but decisive voice, "…Someone tried to kill Daddy. And the police do not believe it."
Molly Gertrude arched her brows as she sat down next to Charmayne. "What makes you say that?" she asked, trying to sound as objective as possible, but she pricked up her ears. Apparently Charmayne did not believe it had been an accident either.
"Several things," Charmayne wailed as she opened her handbag. She took out a handkerchief to clear the tears from her eyes. "Of course…," she began hesitantly, "… it's technically possible to get food in the air passage and choke, still, I really wonder if that is what happened." She looked up and Molly Gertrude could sense deep, unresolved grief. "My Daddy was strong as a bear, and he never gobbled up his food. He always told me not to swallow stuff too soon. That's because of what happened to my aunt."
"Oh?" Molly Gertrude vacillated. "What happened to her?"
"You didn't know?" Charmayne went on. "My aunt suffocated. I was only ten years old when she choked on a chicken bone… and it was very different from the way Daddy choked." Her words came out in a depressing tone.
Molly Gertrude frowned. "In what way was it was different?"
"I'll never forget the desperate expression on my aunt's face as she was trying to get air," Charmayne moaned. "First she was coughing and wheezing. Then she grabbed her throat and her lips turned blue, but it soon spread to her face. Help came too late."
Molly Gertrude scooted closer in order to grab the girl's hands.
"But the way Daddy acted was very different. His face was flushed, but he did not turn blue. Never." Charmayne now blubbered out the words. "Instead of his throat, he grabbed his chest, as if a sharp pain jabbed him, and even though he was coughing and wheezing, it just didn't sound the same as when my aunt died."
Molly Gertrude’s chest was aching. It always did when she wanted to help someone, but there was nothing she could do. "I am so sorry you had to witness these events, Charmayne."
Charmayne pushed her tears away and pressed her lips together so hard they turned white. "I just know Daddy didn't choke on his cake."
Molly thought for a moment. "Could he have had heart failure?"
Charmayne shrugged. "It happens. I've heard about people who suddenly fall over when their heart stops, but as I said already, Daddy's health was excellent. He didn't smoke, he barely drank alcohol, and even though he was well into his seventies, he still attended the gym three or four times a week." She let out a frustrated sigh. "I asked Sheriff JJ Barnes about it…"
"And?"
"He said he would look into it, but I had the feeling I was annoying him. He did not seem very eager to investigate… That's why I came to you, Miss Grey."
Molly Gertrude leaned back. "I don't understand."
Charmayne let out a deep sigh. "JJ Barnes, no doubt, is a good man, but I think too many years as an officer has left him tired and cynical. He's thinking in terms of expenses and keeping up appearances. For him it's much more convenient to simply accept it was an accident… "She hesitated, but then her eyes lit up, "…but you yourself mentioned it, yesterday, that it could have been a murder." She peered questioningly at Molly Gertrude. "You did say that, didn't you?"
Molly Gertrude cleared her throat. "Yes, I did say that, Charmayne. But, I must be fair, it still could have been an accident. It's too early to tell, but I must confess, I have my doubts too. I asked Officer Digby to take the cake to the laboratory, just to see if it was poisoned."
Charmayne gasped. "The cake? But Billy gave it to him… You don't mean to say that Billy…" Her voice trailed off, and she never finished her sentence.
"I am not saying anything at all," Molly Gertrude clarified. "If that cake turns out to be poisoned, anybody could have messed with it, not just Billy." She narrowed her eyes. "How is Billy doing, anyway? It must have been a great shock to him as well."
Charmayne shrugged her shoulders. "He seems pretty aloof about it. I scolded him for it this morning. He just answered not to get too uptight, and t
hat bad things just happen in this world."
Insensitive fellow. Molly Gertrude remembered how Dora had mentioned she thought Billy was not a good match for Charmayne, as she felt the bridegroom was shallow and shifty.
"If someone would have wanted to murder your father, who comes to mind, and why?" Molly Gertrude chided herself for sounding so calculating and formal, but she had to ask the question.
Charmayne rubbed her forehead. "You know Daddy wasn't always the good Christian man he was since he joined Papa Julian's church, right?"
Molly Gertrude nodded. She knew all too well. Abe Mortimer had been a shrewd businessman when Charmayne was still a toddler, with little regard for the law or his fellow man. Whenever the subject of his dark past came up, he would press his lips together and say he had fallen into the trap of the deceitfulness of riches.
In those days, it was even whispered he had strong ties to the underworld. Abe himself never admitted to it, although he never denied it either. But then his life changed. He found God and a remarkable change came over him. Much like the wee little man Zaccheus, the tax-collector in the days of Jesus, Abe's heart was touched, and he too went through great lengths of repaying everyone he had defrauded. That's when he got baptized and joined Papa Julian's church. Molly and he became best of friends there, but his troubles were not all over. Charmayne's mother, Isabelle, did not take Abe's new found faith very kindly and refused to go along with it. At first she mocked him, then started to call him all kinds of unsavory names, and when she finally began to hurl pottery at Abe's head, Abe knew he had to draw the line somewhere. He sold their house, gave most of the money to Isabelle and tried to start a new life. Isabelle, who apparently was only interested in his money, then ran off with her personal trainer from the gym, a man 20 years her junior. Neither Abe, nor Charmayne ever heard from her again.
"Does anyone come to mind that could have done such a dreadful thing?" Molly Gertrude asked again.
New tears formed in Charmayne's eyes. Then she shook her head. "I wish I knew… but I don't. But the main reason I think of foul play is this…" She stuck her hand in her handbag again and pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper.
"What is it?" Molly Gertrude asked as she tilted her head in surprise.
"I found this a week ago in my father's bedroom." She handed the paper to Molly Gertrude, who unfolded it. "I had wanted to ask Daddy about it, but you know, with the wedding and all… I just kept postponing it."
As Molly Gertrude stared at the paper, her heart skipped a beat. On the paper, with letters that were cut out of a newspaper was a small and chilling message:
Stay out of my life, or else…
Molly Gertrude felt the blood rising to her head. "And you found this a week ago?"
Charmayne nodded.
"Where exactly did you find it?"
Charmayne pressed her lips together. "I am not one for snooping around in my Daddy's bedroom. I had no reason to, but I was looking for my mother's pearly collier. I thought my Daddy still had it, and it would have looked so nice with my wedding dress."
"And…?"
Charmayne shrugged her shoulders. "I should have waited for my Daddy to return, but I couldn't wait and I went into his room. I found it in the drawer of his desk."
"Maybe it was an old message?" Molly Gertrude suggested, although she knew that wasn't true. Still she had to ask to rule out that possibility. "You know something from his former life that he somehow kept."
Charmayne shook her head. "No, Miss Grey. This paper is not old." She took it out of Molly's hand and brought it to her nose. "Smell it. It's fresh and recent, and it was on top of his ledger that he keeps his records in for this year. No, he received this letter recently."
Molly Gertrude fell back in her seat. "I've had that strange burning sensation again in my shoulder, you know."
Charmayne stared at her, not understanding.
"I mean to say I agree with you, Charmayne. I doubt that it was an accident as well, Charmayne," Molly gritted her teeth. "I believe it's been foul play indeed.”
At that instant the old rotary phone, standing on a small table in the corner, started to ring, loud and demanding. It shook both women up as none of them had expected it.
Dora had often tried to sell Molly Gertrude on the idea of a smartphone, but Molly Gertrude, being the old-fashioned lady she was, still swore by an antique phone and preferred a device with a dial that you needed to turn with your fingers.
"Excuse me, dear," she said as she got up, lumbered to the phone and picked up the horn.
"Hello," she said when she had positioned the horn against her good ear, "you are speaking with the Molly Gertrude Grey. Who is calling?"
For a moment it was still, as Molly Gertrude listened to the voice on the other end. Then she smiled broadly. "Officer Digby, you are early…"
She was still again, let out a few uh's and ahem's, and then grimaced. "Really? Is that so?" At last, she wrinkled her nose, mumbled a word of thanks, and after she said goodbye, she placed the horn back on the hook with a sigh.
"Good news?" Charmayne queried.
"The cake…" Molly began.
Charmayne's eyes widened. "What about it?"
"The results came back from the laboratory."
"And?"
"Nothing. The cake was good. Not a trace of poison. Just the regular stuff you put in a cake, sugar, cream. Nothing out of the ordinary." Molly sighed. "JJ Barnes has officially closed the investigation."
Charmayne's nostrils flared. "What about an autopsy?"
Molly Gertrude thought for a moment. "I'll talk to JJ Barnes about the warning letter you found."
Charmayne did not seem pleased. "I don't like JJ Barnes," she grumbled. Then she looked up with pleading eyes, "Please, Miss Grey… will you look around too. Even if JJ Barnes opens the investigation again, still I'd feel much better if you looked into it as well. Will you please help me to find out what really happened?"
As Molly Gertrude looked at the fragile, broken girl in the chair next to her there was only one thing she could answer. "Yes, Charmayne. I will."
"There's one more thing, Miss Grey."
"What?"
"It's probably nothing, but I also found Daddy's diary." She pulled out a small book with a brown, leather cover and a silk book marker. "I started to read it, but I had to stop. It's just too personal, and it makes me feel so sad. But maybe there's something in there that may help you. After all, you look at everything with objective eyes."
Molly Gertrude nodded. She felt Charmayne's pain, and wished she could take it away, but she couldn't. All she could do was her best to find out what had happened to Charmayne's Daddy. "Thank you, Charmayne… I'll do what I can."
Charmayne nodded in thanks.
"Dora and I will get to work," Molly Gertrude continued. "Whatever happened, we will get the truth on the table."
5
An annoying little, old lady
"What can I do for you?" JJ Barnes did not look up when Molly Gertrude entered his office early the next morning, but kept on reading a report, while marking a passage with his yellow highlighter. "I am a little busy."
"Good morning, Sheriff," Molly Gertrude said in as sweet a voice as she could muster. "Thank you for seeing me."
Barnes looked up impatiently. "We are here to serve the people, so if someone wants to see me…, well, they can. What’s wrong this time, Molly?"
Molly Gertrude licked her lips. Barnes was not in a good mood. "I heard you have officially closed the investigation of Abe Mortimer's unfortunate accident?”
Barnes threw his marker down on the desk and leaned back in his swivel chair. The chair made a loud creak under the weight of the sturdy policeman. The Sheriff curled his lips and hissed, "I have already told you yesterday you shouldn't be reading so many crime novels. Do I have to spell it out for you?" His tone was haughty and Molly Gertrude had to force herself to keep a friendly smile glued on her face.
"There-has-not-been-a-cr
ime," he said in slow, deliberate words. "This case couldn't be any clearer." He lifted his finger in the air and shook it around as if he was the schoolmaster having to deal with a naughty schoolgirl. "Do you have any idea how much it costs to run a full-scale investigation?"
Molly Gertrude shook her head.
"I thought so," Barnes nodded. "But let me tell you, Miss Grey, with all the economic cuts I have had to deal with, and with the stress of keeping this office afloat, I cannot afford to go on some wild goose chase just because your bunions are itching."
Molly Gertrude seemed not impressed. "I understand your difficulties, Sheriff, but Charmayne Mortimer came to me yesterday. She too has her doubts as to how her Daddy ended up in the hospital."
Barnes leaned forward again, still waving his finger around. "Of course, she does. She's heartbroken and…” he hesitated, "… I may add, a little hysterical."
"I heard there were no traces of poison in the cake…" Molly went on.
Barnes' eyes flashed. "That's right, Miss Grey, there were no traces of poison. We even took samples of Abe Mortimer's saliva and found nothing out of the ordinary. Just sugar, cream, alcohol, and a bit of aspirin. The man was probably trying to conquer a headache, as I've been told he had already been drinking more than was good for him." He arched his brows. "Does that satisfy you, Miss Grey?"
