Murder by the Written Word VIII
Tiffany thought it rather odd that Mrs. Andrew’s cane stood neatly in the corner while the contents of her purse spewed across the floor indicated that an obvious struggle may have taken place.
There were torn bits of paper everywhere, a lipstick in a strange bright orange color (definitely not the property of an elderly lady) 75 cents in a clear coin purse and a faded, well-worn picture of Mr. and Mrs. Andrews; probably taken during their earlier years of marriage.
“What do you make of the cane?” Tiffany asked as she watched Dale meticulously pick up the bits of paper. “Why would it be situated in the corner like that?”
“It does seem rather odd, doesn’t it?” Dale replied. “I wouldn’t touch it, though. There may be additional prints."
“Oh … all right.” Tiffany hands jerked back just in time. Then looking at Dale she asked “Now what are you doing?”
“I’m putting the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together.” Dale smiled as he admired his handiwork.
The note read: 2346 Carpenter Lane … I’ll be waiting for you … Come alone if you value your life … The Sparrow.
“The Sparrow!” both Dale and Tiffany chanted in unison.
“What would Mrs. Andrews have to do with that creep?” Tiffany inquired shaking her head from side-to-side and feeling even more mystified.
“It’s more than likely the nephew was tied up with that racketeer,” Dale said venomously.
“You never could tie him to that Albright double murder, could you?” Tiffany asked thinking back to the trial of Jack “The Sparrow” Murphy in connection with the Albright Slayings—execution would have been a better way of putting it.
Mr. Albright and his beautiful wife Cassandra were tied together and brutally slain. Mr. Albright was a strong advocate against organized crime and used his millions to encourage informants to step forward.
“I think we need to pay a visit to 2346 Carpenter Lane.” Dale decided pulling out a glove and plastic bag from his almost new trench coat. He carefully put the pieces of paper into an envelope before sticking them into the bag along with Mrs. Andrew’s purse. Then he tucked the cane under his arm and turned toward Tiffany.
“You mean I’m coming along?” Tiffany asked in both surprise and glee.
“I would be hard pressed to detain you and besides it will be easier keeping an eye on you.” Dale smiled at Tiffany’s indignant glare.
“But we still don’t know about what happened to Mrs. Andrews?” Tiffany reminded Dale.
“Not yet, but let’s pluck a few feathers from a certain bird,” Dale answered finding the thought of confronting The Sparrow much to his liking.
Tiffany was quiet as Dale kept driving away from town. “I wonder where we're headed?” She thought.
"Why are we going away from the town Dale?" Tiffany curiously asked.
Turning toward her, Tiffany noticed how Dale’s jaws had tightened and he gave her an icy stare. She had experienced that before and knew the blow-out was near.
"If I told you once I told you ten times. Didn't I mention we were going to pluck some feathers?"
"I never thought it would take us out of town," Tiffany answered in a soft meek voice.
"You know how I want this story Dale, so don't get so high on a horse when I ask questions, okay?" Tiffany’s voice took on a more assertive ring.
“Listen if we don't go after The Sparrow, well, Mrs. Andrews will never get her cane back,” Dale replied feeling a bit sheepish that he lost his temper with Tiffany.
Dale turned off the main highway into a dirt road. The dust began to swirl around the car and Tiffany began to roll up her window, coughing from the soft dust that got into her throat.
"Darn you Dale, what the heck are you doing?" she shouted above the roar of the motor. "Are we ever going to get wherever we're supposed to be going before I cough myself to death?"
“Will you shut up for a while and let me think?" Dale hollered back. It won't be long now so hold on to your panty hose and stop blabbing so much.
To be continued~
© 2016 Jacqueline Williamson BBA MPA MS