Trick or Treat Murder by Leslie Meier Page B
Authors: Leslie Meier
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Private Investigators, Maine, Arson, Stone; Lucy (Fictitious Character), Halloween stories
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motives!"
"That's not enough. Just 'cause he's got a motive doesn't mean he murdered her. Lots of people have got motives—all sorts of motives. That doesn't make them criminals." "Oh."
"And besides, there are the other fires. The modus was the same. This is basically an arson case."
"Maybe he set all the fires, to cover up the murder," suggested Lucy.
"Lucy, I gotta go," said Barney, running out of patience. "And remember what I said. This is one case you should leave to the professionals."
"Okay, okay," said Lucy, tired of the same old refrain. "Bye now."
As she replaced the receiver Lucy wondered if Dr. Mayes had set all the fires. He was a surgeon, a methodical man. One fire resulting in a death would have been considered murder. A rash of fires, on the other hand, would make it seem as if poor Monica was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. But could he have done it? Barney had said something about an alibi—he was supposed to be in surgery or something.
What about the other fires? She remembered seeing him at the Fourth of July parade, wondering what had brought him to Tinker's Cove. While Monica always attended, she had usually come with a group of houseguests, Lucy had never seen Dr. Mayes with them. The movie theater had burned that weekend, on July 5. Perhaps that was what brought him to town.
And the second fire, on August 28? Could he have set that one, too? Checking the calendar, Lucy saw that August 28 was a Friday. Was he in his office, she wondered, or was he skulking around Bumps River Road, setting a fire in the old barn?
Grabbing the phone, she called information and got his number. She dialed, then waited for his receptionist to answer.
"Dr. Mayes office."
"This is Gloria at Blue Cross/Blue Shield. I need to verify a patient claim for a D and C supposedly performed by Dr. Mayes on August 28."
"Patient's name, please."
"Kenmore, Joyce," improvised Lucy, happening to spot the brand name on the refrigerator. "Birthdate, June 6, 1963. Social security number ..."
"That won't be necessary. I'll just check the book." After a pause, she continued. "There must be some mistake. The office was closed that day. I checked our files, too. We have no patient by that name."
"I suspected as much. I knew there was something funny about this one. Thank you for your cooperation. Fraudulent claims cost us all money."
"You're welcome," replied the receptionist. Something in her voice made Lucy wonder if she'd gone a bit over the top. It was so hard to get these impersonations just right.
Encouraged by her discovery, Lucy checked the calendar. September 26, the day the powder house burned, was also a Friday. But how could she find out if Dr. Mayes had an alibi? She could hardly call the office again.
Hearing Zoe fussing upstairs, Lucy reluctantly abandoned playing detective. Besides, she realized, as she climbed the stairs, Dr. Mayes would hardly shut his practice so he could set fires. Most likely he hired a professional. Much less risky. Especially when you considered how the Medical Society deplored scandal.
Back to the drawing board, thought Lucy, settling down in the recliner to nurse Zoe. Where did I leave off, she asked herself, opening up the psychology book and propping it on Zoe's hip.
"Sexual malfunction is almost always associated with the development of the arsonous personality," she read. "Impotence, in particular, often plays a contributing role."
Somehow, she thought with a sigh, that just didn't sound like Dr. Mayes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After lunch, Lucy had planned to take her aerobics class, but first she stopped by at Doug Durning's real estate office on Main Street. She had promised to pick up some information about the upcoming gas station hearing for Bill. Fortunately, there was an empty parking spot right in front.
As Lucy hurried up the front walk, carrying Zoe in her arms, she noticed how similar this building was to the Hathorn-Pye house. Another big,
"That's not enough. Just 'cause he's got a motive doesn't mean he murdered her. Lots of people have got motives—all sorts of motives. That doesn't make them criminals." "Oh."
"And besides, there are the other fires. The modus was the same. This is basically an arson case."
"Maybe he set all the fires, to cover up the murder," suggested Lucy.
"Lucy, I gotta go," said Barney, running out of patience. "And remember what I said. This is one case you should leave to the professionals."
"Okay, okay," said Lucy, tired of the same old refrain. "Bye now."
As she replaced the receiver Lucy wondered if Dr. Mayes had set all the fires. He was a surgeon, a methodical man. One fire resulting in a death would have been considered murder. A rash of fires, on the other hand, would make it seem as if poor Monica was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. But could he have done it? Barney had said something about an alibi—he was supposed to be in surgery or something.
What about the other fires? She remembered seeing him at the Fourth of July parade, wondering what had brought him to Tinker's Cove. While Monica always attended, she had usually come with a group of houseguests, Lucy had never seen Dr. Mayes with them. The movie theater had burned that weekend, on July 5. Perhaps that was what brought him to town.
And the second fire, on August 28? Could he have set that one, too? Checking the calendar, Lucy saw that August 28 was a Friday. Was he in his office, she wondered, or was he skulking around Bumps River Road, setting a fire in the old barn?
Grabbing the phone, she called information and got his number. She dialed, then waited for his receptionist to answer.
"Dr. Mayes office."
"This is Gloria at Blue Cross/Blue Shield. I need to verify a patient claim for a D and C supposedly performed by Dr. Mayes on August 28."
"Patient's name, please."
"Kenmore, Joyce," improvised Lucy, happening to spot the brand name on the refrigerator. "Birthdate, June 6, 1963. Social security number ..."
"That won't be necessary. I'll just check the book." After a pause, she continued. "There must be some mistake. The office was closed that day. I checked our files, too. We have no patient by that name."
"I suspected as much. I knew there was something funny about this one. Thank you for your cooperation. Fraudulent claims cost us all money."
"You're welcome," replied the receptionist. Something in her voice made Lucy wonder if she'd gone a bit over the top. It was so hard to get these impersonations just right.
Encouraged by her discovery, Lucy checked the calendar. September 26, the day the powder house burned, was also a Friday. But how could she find out if Dr. Mayes had an alibi? She could hardly call the office again.
Hearing Zoe fussing upstairs, Lucy reluctantly abandoned playing detective. Besides, she realized, as she climbed the stairs, Dr. Mayes would hardly shut his practice so he could set fires. Most likely he hired a professional. Much less risky. Especially when you considered how the Medical Society deplored scandal.
Back to the drawing board, thought Lucy, settling down in the recliner to nurse Zoe. Where did I leave off, she asked herself, opening up the psychology book and propping it on Zoe's hip.
"Sexual malfunction is almost always associated with the development of the arsonous personality," she read. "Impotence, in particular, often plays a contributing role."
Somehow, she thought with a sigh, that just didn't sound like Dr. Mayes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After lunch, Lucy had planned to take her aerobics class, but first she stopped by at Doug Durning's real estate office on Main Street. She had promised to pick up some information about the upcoming gas station hearing for Bill. Fortunately, there was an empty parking spot right in front.
As Lucy hurried up the front walk, carrying Zoe in her arms, she noticed how similar this building was to the Hathorn-Pye house. Another big,
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