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“Now what?” Calvin asked, as he pulled the car out of the driveway.
“Maybe we should just go see the mayor. I could use my app to record his confession.”
Calvin scoffed. “I should have known when you asked for that app. You won’t get within a hundred yards of the mayor.”
“Why not?”
“Because ... well, because you’re you.”
“Fine. Then we need to find Trixie.”
“Right, but how? I still don’t think the bar is open. Plus, I’m not going in there,” Calvin reminded her.
“Want to try her house again?” Gertrude asked.
“Not especially.”
“We don’t have to talk to her. Let’s just go see if she’s there. Then if she is, we’ll just follow her, make sure she’s OK?”
“And what if she’s not OK? What are we going to do? Get out and thump the murderer with your walker?”
“No, you big meanieface, we’re going to use my shiny new phone to call the cops.”
“OK fine. We’ll go see if she’s home. But I’m not promising anything else after that.”
“Deal,” Gertrude agreed.
Trixie wasn’t home.
“Now what?” Calvin asked again.
“I don’t know,” Gertrude said thoughtfully. “I wish we could just go talk to the cops. They may know things that would help us.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they have DNA evidence or something? Phone records? They might know what kind of gun was used.”
“You watch too much TV. They don’t have any of that information yet. Those tests take time, and money. I doubt Somerset County is going to invest millions of dollars to figure out who killed a stripper. They’re probably doing it the old-fashioned way, just like we are,” Calvin said. Then he added, “Well, maybe not this old-fashioned.”
Gertrude thought for a minute. Then she said, “They might’ve found the gun. It might be registered to someone.”
“OK, so you’re saying you want to go talk to the cops?”
“I think so. Don’t you?” Gertrude looked at him.
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause I’m kind of embarrassed to be wrapped up in all this. I’ve got a better idea. Let’s go talk to Frank—”
“Who’s Frank?” Gertrude interrupted.
“And you think you’re a detective? Maybe you should take notes. Frank Malone, the cop, the man from the second sex photo.”
“I know who you meant. I was just testing you,” Gertrude said.
Calvin sighed. “Well, let’s go talk to him, not as a suspect, but as a cop. I’ve sort of got an in. Maybe he’ll tell us what he knows.”
Gertrude’s eyes grew wide. “That’s a great idea!” she said. “Great job, Watson!”
“I’m not Watson,” Calvin grumbled. “If anything, you’re Watson.”
Calvin pulled into the sheriff’s department lot and parked the car. Gertrude practically leapt out of her seat. She was so excited. She retrieved her walker from the back seat and headed toward the door before Calvin had even climbed out of the car.
“Can you wait a second?” Calvin called out.
“Hurry up, old man! Time’s a wastin’!”
Gertrude did make it inside first, but then she stopped dead in front of the vast counter in the sheriff’s department’s lobby. She didn’t know where to start.
Calvin walked right by her and approached the closest person in uniform.
“Can I help you, sir?” a deputy asked.
“Yes, I’d like to talk to Frank Malone. Is he in?”
“And can I ask what this is regarding?”
“I’m just an old friend. Wanted to talk with him for a bit. Won’t take long.”
The deputy looked suspicious, but he did look down at a computer screen. He pressed a few keys and then looked up at Calvin. “He’s out on patrol right now. Do you want me to call him in?”
“Nah, can you just tell me where he’s at? We can go to him.”
The deputy glanced at Gertrude, who was still standing by the door. “You sure everything’s all right?”
“Just peachy,” Calvin said, and tried to smile.
“What’s your name?” the deputy asked.
“Calvin. Calvin Crow.”
“OK, then, let me give him a call.” The deputy picked up a radio mic and said, “Somerset 15, Somerset 15?”
“Somerset 15, go ahead,” a voice replied.
“Got a Mr. Calvin Crow here says he wants to talk to you. Are you close, or do you want him to come to you? He says he’s willing.”
“Sure, I can meet him at Gifford’s ice cream scoop. Be there in ten,” Frank said.
“OK, I’ll let him know.”
The deputy turned back to Calvin.
“Gifford’s. Got it. Thanks a lot.”
Calvin headed toward the door.
Gertrude followed him out. “Oh, goodie,” she said. “I do love a good cotton candy cone.”
––––––––
Gertrude ordered a triple scoop of cotton candy ice cream with butterscotch topping.
“I thought you were broke,” Calvin said, disgusted.
“I am, but I’ve got a Gifford’s gift card.”
Calvin rolled his eyes.
The kind-eyed woman in the green apron handed the blue ice cream through the small window.
“Thank you,” Gertrude said, taking it with one hand. With the other, she began taking napkins from the nearby dispenser, which would only allow her to remove one napkin at a time. The people behind her in line waited patiently as she plucked each napkin.
After she’d taken ten, Calvin finally said, “Enough! You don’t need any more napkins!”
Gertrude glared at him. “You won’t be saying that when we’ve got a crisis and I’ve got the napkins!”
Calvin started toward an empty picnic table. “Oh sure,” he said without turning to look at her, “my life is just full of crises that can be solved with a napkin.”
“Crisises!” Gertrude hollered after him, causing everyone within a hundred feet to look at her to see what was wrong. She was still standing directly in front of the window.
Calvin turned too. “What?”
“Crisises! Not cris-eeze.”
Calvin ignored her and sat down.
“Will you get back here?” Gertrude hollered.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t carry an ice cream cone and use my walker at the same time.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you ordered a triple scoop with sticky topping!” Calvin hollered.
The kind-eyed woman, who was now trying to help the helpless person behind Gertrude, wasn’t kind-eyed anymore. Gertrude was indignant. “Will you get over here?” she yelled. “You’re causing a scene!”
Calvin grunted and got up, stomped over to Gertrude and started to take her walker away.
“Don’t touch my walker!” Gertrude said, appalled.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” said Calvin, exasperated.
“Take the cone,” Gertrude said slowly, as if speaking to a stupid child.
“I don’t want to touch your cone,” Calvin said.
“Why not?”
“Ma’am, if you could just step aside,” the kind-eyed woman tried.
“Because it’s dripping butterscotch goo everywhere!” Calvin cried.
“Ahah! A napkin crisis already!” Gertrude declared.
“Excuse me, miss, I’d be happy to carry your cone,” a deputy said, stepping alongside the odd couple. “Hi, Calvin,” he said, nodding to Calvin as he took the cone from Gertrude’s clutch. She handed him several napkins as well. “Where we headed?” he asked.
Wordlessly, Calvin headed toward the picnic table.
“Ladies first,” the deputy said, motioning with his free hand toward the path Calvin had taken.
“Are you Frank?” Gertrude asked.
“I am,” Frank said.
“Good,” Gertrude said, and padded after Calvin.
When she had settled onto the bench, and Frank had returned her cone to her, and she had begun to hastily lick at the dripping butterscotch goo, Frank asked, “So, what’s up, Calvin?”
“Well, we were just wondering—” Calvin began.
“We wanted to know where you were last night,” Gertrude interrupted.
“Gertrude!” Calvin barked.
“Where I was?” Frank laughed. “Why?”
“So we can clear you of Lori Hicks’s murder.”
Frank’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Frank asked.
“Gertrude,” she replied and licked her ice cream cone.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” Calvin said. “She’s a little, uh ... well, touched.”
“Am not,” Gertrude said, and took another lick.
“Of course, we know you had nothing to do with the crime. It’s just that Lori was a friend of Gertrude’s, and she’s really worried, and we were wondering if you had any information you could share with us, you know, something that could ease Gertrude’s uh ... her anxiety.”
“I can’t tell you anything,” Frank said. “It’s an open investigation.”
“I understand,” Calvin said, looking embarrassed.
“Have you found the murder weapon?” Gertrude asked.
Frank just stared at her.
“What would you say if I told you I knew where it was?” Gertrude asked and took another lick.
“I’d say you’d better tell me right now, or I’ll arrest you for obstruction.”
“Aha!” Gertrude said triumphantly. “So you haven’t found it yet!”
Frank glared at Calvin. “Is there anything else you need? Because I need to get back to work.”
Before Calvin could answer, Gertrude asked, “Did you know Lori Hicks?”
“No, I did not,” Frank said.
Gertrude examined his face closely. “Huh,” she said.
“What?” Frank asked.
“I’m not so sure you’re telling the truth,” Gertrude said thoughtfully.
“Of course I’m telling the truth! OK, I’m going now. You two don’t call me again unless you actually need something, something that I am bound by my job description to provide.” He spared Gertrude another disgusted glance and then stalked off toward his cruiser.
“Loser,” Gertrude muttered.
“What is wrong with you?” Calvin asked, wide-eyed.
“I’m touched, remember?”