The Corpse in Oozak's Pond by Charlotte MacLeod

go to Persephone’s and listen to Purvis’s mother simper and sigh. Grace Porble did offer me a bed, but I knew better than to take her up on it. Dr. Porble’s far too high and mighty to be bothered with the likes of me.”
    Phil Porble would hardly have turned an old woman put in the snow. Miss Mink must know that. She must also know that Persephone would let her stay here until she found another place, however long that might be. Shandy wondered whether Miss Mink might be scheming to acquire the house for herself on the basis of squatter’s rights.
    Ottermole produced a small jar from one of the many pockets in his black leather jacket. “Here, Miss Mink. My wife sent you some preserves.”
    Edna Mae had done her gift up nicely. A circle of pinked gingham was tied over the lid with a red ribbon and a sprig of dried statice tucked under it like a flower in a hatband. They were going to love Edna Mae at the garden club. Miss Mink set the jar on the table with a weary sigh.
    “I’ll drop her a note when I get the chance.”
    “You don’t have to bother.”
    “I know my duty, Frederick Ottermole. Why do you suppose they always send strawberry?”
    Shandy decided now was as good a time as any to give this unpleasant old person the raspberry. “Miss Mink,” he said, “have you been in touch with Persephone anytime during the past few hours?”
    “What do you mean by the past few hours? Sephy was out here this morning to pick up the clothes for her parents to be laid out in. You saw her yourself. She phoned again about half past three to say it was all set about the funeral and ask if I wanted to go into town and stay with her and Purvis tonight. I did not. I reminded her that somebody had better stay here and hold the fort or certain people I shan’t dignify by naming would be in here stealing everything they could lay their filthy hands on.”
    “Then you haven’t heard the final verdict on Mr. and Mrs. Buggins?”
    “What verdict? Dr. Fotheringay signed the death certificate.”
    “Nope,” said Ottermole. “That hot-dog pen you loaned him run dry before he finished writing his name. He just kept scratchin’ away without noticing the ink wasn’t coming out.”
    “That still counts as signing.”
    “Not to me it don’t. He should o’ known better, anyways. Doctors aren’t supposed to sign death certificates in suspicious circumstances.”
    “The circumstances were hardly suspicious. Both Mr. and Mrs. Buggins had been ailing all winter.”
    “Not the way they ailed last night. Hey, you better sit down here in the rocking chair, Miss Mink.”
    “Why should I?”
    She was, after all, an old woman. “Because,” said Shandy, “we have some shocking news for you. Sit down, Miss Mink.”

Chapter 9
    S HANDY MOVED THE ROCKING chair closer to the wood stove. After some flouncing and grumbling, Miss Mink allowed him to seat her.
    “All right, what is it? After what I’ve been through today, I don’t suppose anything could faze me much.”
    Shandy gave up trying to be tactful. “The autopsy showed both Mr. and Mrs. Buggins had been poisoned.”
    “Autopsy? What right had anybody to—” She must have realized it was too late to argue. “What kind of poison?”
    “Carbon tetrachloride.”
    She stared at him. “You’re trying to trick me, aren’t you? I know what that means, and I say it’s ridiculous. Don’t you think the Bugginses would have had more sense than to drink cleaning fluid? They weren’t senile, you know.”
    “We’re not trying to trick you, Miss Mink. Did you have any in the house?”
    “Of course not. What would we want it for? Anything her parents needed to have cleaned Persephone took over to the Sunny Spot.”
    “Then we’re left with the assumption that somebody brought the poison here.”
    “Not me.”
    “I’m not saying it was you, Miss Mink. Chief Ottermole and I are only trying to find out who it might have been. We hope you’ll be able to help us.”
    “I