think the floor must be uneven right about here,” he said.
Betsy thought so, too, from the way the ladder had jogged back and forth when she first climbed up its rungs. “This is wonderful; we’re going to need more clothespins soon,” she said.
“I know, this contest was a great idea!” said Godwin, his voice a little strained as he pushed just hard enough to keep the ladder steady.
The door sounded its two notes and the ladder wobbled as Godwin tried to look over his shoulder to see who was coming in.
“Ack!” Betsy cried, one elbow out, the other hand gripping the top step. She looked under her elbow. It was police detective Mike Malloy. “Hi, Mike, what brings you in here?”
“I’d like to talk with you for just a couple of minutes, when you’re free.”
“Sure, I’ll be right with you.”
Betsy clipped the latest contest entry to the line and made her way carefully down. “Thanks, Goddy.”
“My pleasure.”
“Mike, would you like a cup of coffee or tea?” Betsy asked.
“No, thank you.”
Betsy closed the ladder and put it down behind the checkout desk, dusting her hands when she was finished. “This is a good time, since we’re about to close. We’ll be able to talk without being interrupted. Goddy, could you run the credit card machine? Mike, come with me to where we can sit down out of his way.”
She led him into the back half of the shop to the small round table with its cover of patriotic flags and exploding firecrackers—the shop, always running a season ahead of the calendar, was already selling Fourth of July items.
“Now, what can I do for you?”
“I understand Joanne McMurphy came in here yesterday and created a fuss.”
“Ah, the Excelsior grapevine is still flourishing.”
“What grapevine? I got a call from Irene Potter, an eyewitness. She thinks you and I should form an investigative partnership, or maybe I should have you sworn in as a member of the police force.”
Betsy smiled. Irene was sure that with Betsy’s help crime could be wiped out in the whole of Hennepin County, if not the entire state of Minnesota.
“Yes, she was here when Joanne came in.”
“Irene said she was scary.”
Betsy nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human being in such a state of rage.”
“Did she hit you or threaten to hit you?”
“No. I thought she might hit me, but instead she went after Irene, pushed a spinner rack over at her.”
“Deliberately, or accidentally?” Mike had brought out his notebook and was writing in it.
“Oh, deliberately. She was furious at her, I’m not sure why. I was frightened and so was Irene. Godwin was ready to defend us.”
“Godwin? Really?” Mike clearly was amused by the idea.
“He’s brave, Mike. Not macho, that’s not his style, but he’s far from a coward. He picked up a yardstick—not one of those flimsy things, but a nice thick one I bought at the State Fair last year. It can certainly be a weapon. He grabbed it and was prepared to use it to defend us. But Jill Larson came in, and you know Jill, she has this presence, and Joanne just ran out.”
“What was she angry about?”
“She said I was poking my nose in where it didn’t belong. I didn’t know who she was so I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then Irene said she knew her, and that’s when Joanne rushed at her.”
“To try to prevent her from telling you who she was?”
“Oh no; I think she hadn’t really noticed Irene until then and just resented her trying to be a part of the quarrel. I remember reading a phrase in a book long ago about someone being in an ‘ecstasy of rage.’ That seems to describe Joanne. I don’t think she was thinking, just acting.” Betsy thought briefly. “I wonder if she’s sane. Have you talked to her?”
“No, but I’m going to.”
“I heard that her husband reported a gun stolen two weeks before Hailey’s murder, and that it was the same caliber as the murder weapon.”
Betsy could see Mike
Betsy thought so, too, from the way the ladder had jogged back and forth when she first climbed up its rungs. “This is wonderful; we’re going to need more clothespins soon,” she said.
“I know, this contest was a great idea!” said Godwin, his voice a little strained as he pushed just hard enough to keep the ladder steady.
The door sounded its two notes and the ladder wobbled as Godwin tried to look over his shoulder to see who was coming in.
“Ack!” Betsy cried, one elbow out, the other hand gripping the top step. She looked under her elbow. It was police detective Mike Malloy. “Hi, Mike, what brings you in here?”
“I’d like to talk with you for just a couple of minutes, when you’re free.”
“Sure, I’ll be right with you.”
Betsy clipped the latest contest entry to the line and made her way carefully down. “Thanks, Goddy.”
“My pleasure.”
“Mike, would you like a cup of coffee or tea?” Betsy asked.
“No, thank you.”
Betsy closed the ladder and put it down behind the checkout desk, dusting her hands when she was finished. “This is a good time, since we’re about to close. We’ll be able to talk without being interrupted. Goddy, could you run the credit card machine? Mike, come with me to where we can sit down out of his way.”
She led him into the back half of the shop to the small round table with its cover of patriotic flags and exploding firecrackers—the shop, always running a season ahead of the calendar, was already selling Fourth of July items.
“Now, what can I do for you?”
“I understand Joanne McMurphy came in here yesterday and created a fuss.”
“Ah, the Excelsior grapevine is still flourishing.”
“What grapevine? I got a call from Irene Potter, an eyewitness. She thinks you and I should form an investigative partnership, or maybe I should have you sworn in as a member of the police force.”
Betsy smiled. Irene was sure that with Betsy’s help crime could be wiped out in the whole of Hennepin County, if not the entire state of Minnesota.
“Yes, she was here when Joanne came in.”
“Irene said she was scary.”
Betsy nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human being in such a state of rage.”
“Did she hit you or threaten to hit you?”
“No. I thought she might hit me, but instead she went after Irene, pushed a spinner rack over at her.”
“Deliberately, or accidentally?” Mike had brought out his notebook and was writing in it.
“Oh, deliberately. She was furious at her, I’m not sure why. I was frightened and so was Irene. Godwin was ready to defend us.”
“Godwin? Really?” Mike clearly was amused by the idea.
“He’s brave, Mike. Not macho, that’s not his style, but he’s far from a coward. He picked up a yardstick—not one of those flimsy things, but a nice thick one I bought at the State Fair last year. It can certainly be a weapon. He grabbed it and was prepared to use it to defend us. But Jill Larson came in, and you know Jill, she has this presence, and Joanne just ran out.”
“What was she angry about?”
“She said I was poking my nose in where it didn’t belong. I didn’t know who she was so I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then Irene said she knew her, and that’s when Joanne rushed at her.”
“To try to prevent her from telling you who she was?”
“Oh no; I think she hadn’t really noticed Irene until then and just resented her trying to be a part of the quarrel. I remember reading a phrase in a book long ago about someone being in an ‘ecstasy of rage.’ That seems to describe Joanne. I don’t think she was thinking, just acting.” Betsy thought briefly. “I wonder if she’s sane. Have you talked to her?”
“No, but I’m going to.”
“I heard that her husband reported a gun stolen two weeks before Hailey’s murder, and that it was the same caliber as the murder weapon.”
Betsy could see Mike
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