Ghost at Work _a Bailey Ruth Mystery

Claimed he drove away and she went home. Opportunity: Yes.

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Walter Carey. Insisted breakup of partnership with victim was Carey’s decision. Knowledgeable business leaders indicated Carey has been in financial distress for several years, and certainly the termination of the partnership wasn’t positive for him.

Obvious hard feelings as the breakup was sudden and Murdoch immediately replaced the locks at his office. Carey said he was working late Thursday. No corroboration. Opportunity: Yes.

Isaac Franklin, sexton St. Mildred’s. Motive: Victim confronted him over removing food from the church pantry for the needy. Sexton supported by rector. Sexton’s report on wheelbarrow led to search of cemetery and church grounds.

Discovery of tracks suggests murder occurred at or near the church. Use of the wheelbarrow likely would not have been otherwise discovered, which supports sexton’s lack of involvement.

Arrived home at a quarter after five. Arrived at daughter and son-in- law’s home at six. Confirmed by wife and daughter and son-in-law. Collusion unlikely. Opportunity: Unlikely.

Cobb frowned at the tablet. He pushed away from the table, wan-dered to his desk, his gaze abstracted. He opened the drawer, found a sack of M&M’s, poured out a half dozen, tossed them in his mouth.

He glanced at the wall clock, gave an abrupt nod. He punched his intercom. “Hal, if you’ve got a minute, I’d like to see you.”

“Be right there.”

The chief punched another button. “Anita, I can use your help if you’re free.”

“I’m on my way.”

He was standing with his back to the table, munching M&M’s.

I resisted the impulse to filch a few. I picked up his pen, delicately loosened a clean sheet from the table. The chief stood with his back to me. I printed in block letters:

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G h o s t at Wo r k

IRENE CHATHAM STOLE FROM THE COLLECTION

PLATE AT ST. MILDRED’S. MURDOCH HAD PROOF.

HE INSISTED FATHER ABBOTT CALL THE POLICE.

FATHER ABBOTT REFUSED. THEY QUARRELED.

The chief’s door opened. I wrote a little faster: THIS IS THE FIDUCIARY MATTER MURDOCH

INTENDED TO REPORT TO THE VESTRY.

“Chief.” Anita’s voice was puzzled. “How’s that pencil moving by itself?“ She stood in the doorway, one hand pointing.

I eased the pencil to the table.

Cobb whirled, approached the table. He picked up the pencil, shrugged. “Optical illusion, I guess. Anyway—” His gaze stopped.

He reached for the sheet with the printed message. “Where’d this come from?”

Anita came up beside him. “One of the folders?” She waved at the laden tabletop. She looked fresher today, less tired.

“I know everything in every folder.” He thrust the sheet at her.

“Who did this?”

She read, shook her head. “I suppose it was part of someone’s notes.”

“Block letters?” He scrabbled through the nearest folder, pushed it aside, checked one after another.

Anita spread out her hands. “Somebody wrote it.” He closed the last folder. “Yeah. Somebody did.” He stared at the sheet, his face perplexed. “I would have sworn this wasn’t in any of the files.”

The door opened. Detective Sergeant Price hurried to the table.

He moved fast, as if there was much to do and too little time.

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The chief held out the sheet. “Take a look at this, Hal. Do you know anything about it?”

Hal read it, raised an eyebrow, returned the sheet. “News to me.” Chief Cobb slapped it on the table. “There are too many weird things about this case. But”—he jabbed a finger at the sheet—“wherever it came from, we have to check it out. It’s too specific to ignore.

Anyway, I can use some help this afternoon.” He described his conversation with Kathleen Abbott. “She claims she misunderstood, didn’t mean a wheelbarrow, that she went out into the backyard to retrieve some donation for the collectible sale at the church. It’s part of the big Halloween bash that starts”—he checked his watch—“in about fifteen minutes. I want us to show up.