Candy Corn Murder by Leslie Meier

shoulder as she made her way out the door.
    â€œShe worries too much,” said Ted, who was leafing through the old papers, chuckling from time to time at the antiquated prose.
    But as Lucy wrote up her account of the vandalism at the Harvest Figure Display, she was more than ever convinced that Corney was right to worry. She tried to give the story a positive spin, beginning with the Rotary Club’s restoration of the display, but the fact remained that somebody had put a lot of energy into an act of wanton destruction.
    â€œI just can’t imagine why anyone would do such a thing,” said Tony Marzetti, an energetic volunteer who was not only a member of the Conservation Commission but was also president of the Rotary Club, when Lucy called him for a quote. “It’s really hard to understand destruction like that, and I’m glad we were able to help.”
    The obvious question, and the one that Lucy put to police chief Jim Kirwan, was how the police were going to prevent future acts of vandalism.
    â€œIt’s a problem. I’m not going to pretend it’s not a challenge for our department,” he replied. “Preventing crime is a big challenge for us, since we can’t be everywhere at once, but I am asking my officers to be extra vigilant. And, of course, the one thing we’ve got going in our favor is the fact that the more times this perpetrator acts, the easier it becomes for us to catch him.” He paused, then added, “Or her.”
    â€œHow so?” asked Lucy.
    â€œThe evidence begins to pile up. Every crime scene gives us a piece of the puzzle, and sooner or later it will come together. Take this latest incident . . .”
    â€œThe Harvest Figure Display?”
    â€œOh, no. This second giant pumpkin slashing.”
    â€œA second giant pumpkin?” asked Lucy, fearing for Priscilla. Well, not so much for the giant gourd, but for Bill. He would be awfully upset if anything happened to Priscilla.
    â€œYeah, at Sukie Evans’s place. A really big one. She’s got a couple of horses, you know, so she had plenty of manure.”
    Lucy breathed a sigh of relief, then reminded herself that even if Priscilla was safe, the pumpkin killer was still at large. “Any leads?” asked Lucy.
    â€œI’m not at liberty to say,” said the chief, “but I will say that my department is taking these attacks very seriously and we will catch whoever is doing this and we will prosecute to the full extent of the law.”
    â€œWhat exactly is the penalty?” asked Lucy.
    â€œCould be jail time,” he responded. “Like I said, this goes beyond a prank. This is systematic and purposeful destruction of property, and I am committed to using the full resources of this department to preserve our way of life here in Tinker’s Cove.”
    Lucy dutifully jotted down this rather grand quote, aware that the full resources of the department were extremely limited due to recent budget cuts. It sounded good, she supposed, but it was just so much hot air. She had just started to write the story when her phone rang again. This time it was Hank DeVries from the scuba club.
    â€œI have an update for you about the underwater pumpkin-carving contest,” he began.
    â€œGreat,” said Lucy, expecting him to announce some new prizes.
    â€œNot great,” said Hank. “I’ve just been informed that the state’s environmental protection department wants to review the plans for the contest.”
    â€œThat’s understandable,” said Lucy. “How is it a problem?”
    â€œI don’t have plans,” said Hank. “That’s the problem. I haven’t studied inflow and outflow at the pond, I don’t know the chemical content of the water, except that I’m pretty sure there’s two hydrogen atoms for every one oxygen, and I don’t know about fertilizer runoff and nitrogen loading. We were just gonna