and the mutilated glasses, leaped to her feet, swung the purse over her shoulder, and groped her way down the stairs.
16
“COULD YOU HURRY IT ALONG?” JONATHON DODDSWORTH urged impatiently.
Harvey Beerbaum was seated at Dan Finley’s desk in the police station, working on the puzzle. Sherry, Cora, and Chief Harper were seated, watching. Doddsworth was crashing around the room like a bull in a china shop, pacing and hovering.
Harvey raised his head from the paper, gave Doddsworth a withering look. “Have you ever solved an acrostic?”
“Can’t say as I have.”
“Then you can’t comprehend what’s entailed. With Cora helping me, I could zip right through. Unfortunately, she can’t.”
Cora tried not to look smug. It wasn’t that hard without her glasses. She squinted at Doddsworth, shrugged helplessly.
“Yes,” Doddsworth muttered. “Pity.” He made a gesture that from Cora’s blurry vantage point might have been sticking his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, or might have been an attempt at flight. “I’m not entirely clear on the sequence, Miss Felton. You found the cryptogram, then you broke your spectacles? Or you broke your spectacles, then found the cryptogram?”
Cora, unprepared for the question, said, “Let me see . . .”
Doddsworth pounced. “
Let me see?
This requires no thought. Did you see a distinct red envelope, or a blotchy red haze?”
“Actually, I saw both. Finding the envelope startled me. I dropped my glasses and stepped on them.”
Cora was quite pleased with that construction. Perfectly true statements, deliberately designed to mislead.
“The envelope was dangling from a stick?”
“That’s right.”
“But it wasn’t
pinned
to the stick. There are no punctures in it.”
“No. It was taped to the stick.”
“In what manner?”
“With masking tape.”
“There is no tape on the envelope. Where might it be?”
“I tore it off.”
“Pardon?”
Doddsworth’s inflection could not have been more insinuating if Cora had just confessed to the Ripper murders.
“If I hadn’t, the envelope would still be taped to the stick.”
“And is that not just where it should be?” Doddsworth stroked his muttonchops and swung into lecture mode. “Tape is a jolly good source of fingerprints. Criminals never think of that. They’ll cosh some bloke, wipe the bludgeon clean, then leave the victim trussed up with tape. Not masking tape, to be sure. Still, the principle is the same. Criminals neglect the fingerprints in the adhesive.”
“Could you keep it down,” Harvey said irritably. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Having trouble?” Cora crooned sweetly. “I’m so sorry I can’t help. . . .”
“Maybe you can. What’s a seven-letter word for a
Referee’scall
?”
Cora’s heart skipped a beat. “I have no idea, Harvey. I’d have to
see
where it fits in.”
“Which, of course, I can’t show you. That’s the problem with these acrostics. The answers are scattered.”
“I know, Harvey.” Cora sighed. “It’s so
frustrating
to have a murder investigation going on and not being able to see.”
Doddsworth sucked in his breath. “Miss Felton, need I point out that this murder was not committed for your personal recreation? The victim was a childhood friend of my daughter. A young girl, cut down ruthlessly in her prime. Perhaps you could endeavor not to take such pleasure in it.”
Cora looked abashed.
Chief Harper, at his desk, tugged uncomfortably at his collar.
“Got it!” Harvey announced.
“You do!” the chief exclaimed. “What does it say?”
“I don’t know yet. I just got that one particular clue. A
Ref ’s call
is
offside.
”
“Yes, yes, do get on with it,” Doddsworth said, pacing.
The door banged open and Dan Finley came in. He was carrying something under his coat. “Hey, Chief. Take a look at this.”
“What is it?”
Dan stopped, frowned at the number of people assembled in the office, all staring
16
“COULD YOU HURRY IT ALONG?” JONATHON DODDSWORTH urged impatiently.
Harvey Beerbaum was seated at Dan Finley’s desk in the police station, working on the puzzle. Sherry, Cora, and Chief Harper were seated, watching. Doddsworth was crashing around the room like a bull in a china shop, pacing and hovering.
Harvey raised his head from the paper, gave Doddsworth a withering look. “Have you ever solved an acrostic?”
“Can’t say as I have.”
“Then you can’t comprehend what’s entailed. With Cora helping me, I could zip right through. Unfortunately, she can’t.”
Cora tried not to look smug. It wasn’t that hard without her glasses. She squinted at Doddsworth, shrugged helplessly.
“Yes,” Doddsworth muttered. “Pity.” He made a gesture that from Cora’s blurry vantage point might have been sticking his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, or might have been an attempt at flight. “I’m not entirely clear on the sequence, Miss Felton. You found the cryptogram, then you broke your spectacles? Or you broke your spectacles, then found the cryptogram?”
Cora, unprepared for the question, said, “Let me see . . .”
Doddsworth pounced. “
Let me see?
This requires no thought. Did you see a distinct red envelope, or a blotchy red haze?”
“Actually, I saw both. Finding the envelope startled me. I dropped my glasses and stepped on them.”
Cora was quite pleased with that construction. Perfectly true statements, deliberately designed to mislead.
“The envelope was dangling from a stick?”
“That’s right.”
“But it wasn’t
pinned
to the stick. There are no punctures in it.”
“No. It was taped to the stick.”
“In what manner?”
“With masking tape.”
“There is no tape on the envelope. Where might it be?”
“I tore it off.”
“Pardon?”
Doddsworth’s inflection could not have been more insinuating if Cora had just confessed to the Ripper murders.
“If I hadn’t, the envelope would still be taped to the stick.”
“And is that not just where it should be?” Doddsworth stroked his muttonchops and swung into lecture mode. “Tape is a jolly good source of fingerprints. Criminals never think of that. They’ll cosh some bloke, wipe the bludgeon clean, then leave the victim trussed up with tape. Not masking tape, to be sure. Still, the principle is the same. Criminals neglect the fingerprints in the adhesive.”
“Could you keep it down,” Harvey said irritably. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Having trouble?” Cora crooned sweetly. “I’m so sorry I can’t help. . . .”
“Maybe you can. What’s a seven-letter word for a
Referee’scall
?”
Cora’s heart skipped a beat. “I have no idea, Harvey. I’d have to
see
where it fits in.”
“Which, of course, I can’t show you. That’s the problem with these acrostics. The answers are scattered.”
“I know, Harvey.” Cora sighed. “It’s so
frustrating
to have a murder investigation going on and not being able to see.”
Doddsworth sucked in his breath. “Miss Felton, need I point out that this murder was not committed for your personal recreation? The victim was a childhood friend of my daughter. A young girl, cut down ruthlessly in her prime. Perhaps you could endeavor not to take such pleasure in it.”
Cora looked abashed.
Chief Harper, at his desk, tugged uncomfortably at his collar.
“Got it!” Harvey announced.
“You do!” the chief exclaimed. “What does it say?”
“I don’t know yet. I just got that one particular clue. A
Ref ’s call
is
offside.
”
“Yes, yes, do get on with it,” Doddsworth said, pacing.
The door banged open and Dan Finley came in. He was carrying something under his coat. “Hey, Chief. Take a look at this.”
“What is it?”
Dan stopped, frowned at the number of people assembled in the office, all staring
Similar Books
