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Gertrude fed her cats and then made herself a tuna fish sandwich with extra pickles. There was just enough space at the kitchen table for a single plate, and it was there she sat, surrounded by stacks of treasures. She propped the top photo against a pile of L. L. Bean catalogs and stared at it as she chewed. I need to talk to Silas, she thought. I need his alibi. Then I’ll find the guy from the second photo and get his alibi too. But how do I find Silas? I don’t know where he lives. I know! She slapped the table, startling Sleet, who was curled up in a nearby box of scarves. Old Man Crow has one of those computers that’s online. You can look up just about anything on those things.
Gertrude hurriedly finished her sandwich, giving a small piece of tuna to Sleet as an apology, and then headed for the door. Minutes later, she was pounding on Old Man Crow’s screen door. But no one answered. She pounded again. Oh no, I can’t handle another dead body today. She cupped her hands over the window and peered inside. The inside of the trailer looked pristine. What a weirdo. She pounded again. Then she heard some commotion inside. Soon, the door opened. “What?”
“Why isn’t anyone ever happy to see me?”
“What do you want?”
“Can I use your computer?”
“No,” he said and shut the door in her face.
She pounded on it again. “Please!” she hollered through the door. “It’s a matter of life and death!”
He opened the door again. “What?”
“I said it’s a matter of life and death,” she repeated.
“Whose?”
“Whose what?”
“Whose life or death?”
“Oh, will you just let me in, old man? The sooner you help me, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.” She looked up at his balding head. “Or what’s left of it anyway.” She pushed past him and headed inside. “Smells good in here. What is that?”
“Hygiene.”
She made a beeline for the small, neat computer desk. When she got there, she sat down with a grunt.
“Get up,” he said. “Don’t touch anything. What do you need? Pay a fine to animal control? I’ll do it for you.”
“OK, OK, old man. Don’t get your diaper twisted.” She stood up.
“Who you callin’ old? You’re not exactly a young’un.” He sat down. “Now what’s this emergency?”
“I need an address for Silas LeBlanc.”
Old Man Crow looked at her incredulously. “Silas?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s my great-nephew, on my late wife’s side.”
“Oh great, then you must know where he lives.”
“Ayuh.”
“So can you take me there?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t want to.”
“But I told you it was a matter of life and death!”
“Whose?”
Gertrude put her arms on her walker and leaned forward on them as she rubbed her temples. How can this man be so exasperating? “I need you to take me to Silas so I can talk to him about a dead stripper.”
Old Man Crow stood up. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I’ll go get my coat.”
A few minutes later, they were both in Old Man Crow’s Cadillac and were headed into town. “So now that we’re partners ...” Gertrude began.
“We’re not partners.”
“Well, whatever, why do they call you Old Man Crow?”
“That’s my name.”
Gertrude looked at him. “Your mother named you Old Man?”
“Don’t be foolish. My mother named me Calvin. Calvin Crow. I don’t know why they call me Old Man Crow. The kids started doing it years back. The same ones who egged my trailer. Took me forever to scrub that egg off. It got into the cracks in the vinyl. Went through a dozen toothbrushes that fall.”
Gertrude’s eyes grew wide. “You cleaned the outside of your trailer with a toothbrush?”
“No, with a dozen toothbrushes.”
“Ever think you might be a little obsessive?”
“At least I don’t collect toothbrushes.” Calvin pulled over to the side of the street and put the car in park.
“Is this it?”
“No, but look.”
Gertrude followed his gaze and saw Hale’s cruiser parked in a driveway just down the street from them. “Oh horsefeathers!”
“What’s going on Gertrude? Why are the police at Silas’s house?”
“I told you there was a dead stripper!”
“That doesn’t explain why the cops are involved. Strippers die all the time, don’t they? Just like the rest of us?”
“Well, this one was shot.”
“Oh. Well now, don’t you think that was an important detail?”
“Yeah.”
“So what, do you think Silas did it? Is that what the cops think?”
“I don’t know what the cops think. They’ve made it clear they don’t want my help. No, I don’t think Silas did it. He wouldn’t have been stupid enough to leave the body in his own house of balls.”
“House of what?”
“Shh, here they come.” Gertrude slid down in the seat to hide her head from view, which means she slid down about six inches.
“OK, the cops are in their car. Now they’re leaving. You still want to talk to Silas?”
“Of course,” Gertrude whispered, pushing herself back up into the seat.
“You don’t have to whisper. They can’t hear you.” Calvin eased the car back into the street, drove two hundred feet, and pulled into a short driveway. “Now you don’t mention the stripper around the wife. She’s a nice churchgoing lady.”
“Deal.” Gertrude hoisted herself out of the Cadillac and then wrestled her walker out of the back seat.
They didn’t even have to knock. Silas met them at the door.
“Hey, Si!” Calvin said.
“Hey, Calvin, what a surprise, come on in, I guess. What brings you here?”
Calvin walked into the kitchen and promptly sat down. “Got a lady here who wants to talk to you. Is Joanie around?”
“No, she’s at church, quilting club or some darn thing. What’s this about?”
“I need to know if Lori Hicks was blackmailing you,” Gertrude said.
Silas’s mouth flew open.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Silas sat down. “Please don’t tell anyone. I’ve got enough trouble. And I sure didn’t kill her.”
“I know that,” Gertrude said comfortingly.
Silas didn’t look comforted.
“How much?” Gertrude asked.
Silas looked at the ceiling, his face red. “I had to give her a thousand dollars a month, or she would tell my wife about my affair. And I couldn’t let that happen. I love my wife. Had to tell her I got into trouble gambling. Otherwise, she’d wonder where more than half our income was going. And she was such a sweetheart about it. Made me feel even guiltier. She just can’t find out, she can’t.”
“I understand,” Gertrude said, even though she really didn’t. “So, your mistress, what’s her name?”
“No idea.”
“You don’t know her name?” Gertrude asked, appalled.
“We didn’t talk much.”
“Does she work at Private Eyes?”
“Ayuh. Won’t catch me in there again.”
“So you met her there?”
“Who, Lori or the stripper?” Calvin asked.
“Well, I meant the stripper, but wasn’t Lori a stripper too?”
“Nah, Lori just waited tables.” Silas rubbed his jaw as if it ached. “I mean, she was a mostly naked waitress, but she didn’t get up on stage and dance, at least not that I saw.”
“OK, so this other woman, the stripper with no name, you met her there too?”
“Yeah. Look, is this really necessary?” Silas asked.
“Yes, it is,” Gertrude said indignantly. “Are you still seeing her?”
“No!” Silas cried. “I haven’t seen her since that one time.”
“Do you have an alibi for last night?” Gertrude asked.
“Yes, I was home alone with my wife.”
“OK. Good.”
“Why are you doing this?” Silas asked. “Why not just let the police handle it?”
Gertrude thought for a second. That’s a good question. I’m not sure I should tell Silas my mayor theory. “Because Deputy Hale made me feel stupid, and now I’m going to prove I’m not.” There. That seemed as good a reason as any.
“Well, I don’t know who killed her. I’m just a weak and pathetic man who drinks too much. And look where it got me—giving all my money to this Lori woman.”
“Well, she won’t be taking your money anymore.”
“Right,” Silas said dryly. “Lucky me.”
Gertrude was almost out the door when she thought of another question. “Was Lori blackmailing anyone else?”
“Don’t know,” Silas said. “But I didn’t kill her, so she certainly ticked someone else off.”