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As they drove north toward Mattawooptock and home, the sun came up, bathing the sky in pinks.
“Well, Gertrude. Looks like we survived the night. But let’s not do this again, all right? I’m old. I just want to be retired and bored.”
“Really? ’Cause you kind of seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight.”
“Yeah, we had an adventure. But what I’m saying is, it was just a one-time thing. I don’t want to be your Watson or your Sherlock. I just want to sit in my recliner, in my house, and watch my television.”
“We’ll see,” Gertrude said. “Now that we’ve solved our second case, we could be overwhelmed by paying clients.”
“Gertrude, you’re not listening. There is no we.”
“Sure, Calvin. Whatever you say.” She didn’t believe him for a second.
When they pulled into the trailer park, Gertrude was alarmed to see a cop car parked in her driveway and Hale knocking on her door.
“Do you think he knows?” she asked, her voice shaky with panic.
“I don’t know. But does it matter? Aren’t you going to tell him anyway, when you give him the lamp?”
“Well, uh, no. I hadn’t really gotten that far in my planning,” she said thoughtfully. “I was just going to give him the lamp. I wasn’t going to tell him where I got it.”
Calvin laughed. “Well, sorry, Gert, but I think he’s going to ask. Oh, sorry, I know you don’t like to be called Gert.”
“No, it’s all right, Calvin. My friends all call me Gert. All right then, here goes nothing.” She climbed out of the car, clutching her prize in one gloved hand. “Hale,” she said, nodding. “I have something for you.”
Hale turned toward her voice. “Oh yeah?” he said suspiciously.
Calvin climbed out of the car too, and then leaned on it to watch the exchange.
“So, remember the ugly green lamp I told you about before? The murder weapon? Well, I just found it! Someone put it in a bin that was sent to the Goodwill pound store in Gorham. It’s got blood all over it. And it’s got a bloody fingerprint on it. I’m assuming the blood will match Tislene Breen’s and that the print will belong to the murderer. I’ll hand it to you if you’ve got some gloves you can put on.”
Hale, apparently speechless, quickly pulled a glove out of his pocket and put it on. Then he reached to pull the lamp from Gertrude’s clutches, but she yanked it away.
“Wait,” she said firmly.
“What?”
“First, I need to know. Why do you think Roderick did it?”
“What? Why, is that Roderick’s print?” Hale asked.
“How should I know? I don’t have a fingerprint database in my pocket. But no, since you asked, I am quite certain Roderick did not kill Tislene. But I still want to know why you think he did. And I think I deserve to know, since I just solved the case for you and everything.”
Hale’s hands dropped to his side.
“You don’t deserve anything, except maybe handcuffs of your own. Now give me the lamp.”
“No,” Gertrude put the lamp behind her back.
“Gertrude—” Calvin started, but Hale interrupted.
“You are now obstructing justice,” he said.
“Oh fiddlesticks! Just tell me why! I won’t tell anyone.”
Hale put his hands on his hips and looked around, as if to make sure no one but Calvin was within earshot. Then he leveled an unamused gaze at Gertrude. “A friend of the victim told us that he followed her around. He seemed to have a weird fascination with her. Even followed her out to her car once. So that was enough to search his place, where we found pictures of her.” He held out one hand. “Now give me the lamp.”
Gertrude thought about it for several seconds and then handed it over. “So you arrested him for being sweet on someone?”
Ignoring her question, he carefully took the lamp from her and gently deposited it in his car.
“He didn’t do it,” she said.
“OK,” Hale said. “But I didn’t come here to talk about him. I came to tell you that we caught your burglar.”
“Really?” Gertrude asked, surprised.
“Yeah. She looked right at your hidden camera, so it didn’t take long to identify her. She’s a young woman from Waterville, named Rochelle Price. Do you know her?”
“Don’t think so.”
“She won’t say why she broke into your trailer. Something about you buying something from her grandmother, Dawn Price, at a garage sale, something that Miss Price feels should belong to her. But we don’t yet know what that something is. She wouldn’t say.”
Gertrude looked to Calvin for help. He offered none. She turned back to Hale. “How does she know I’m the one who bought it? It’s not like lawnsaleing leaves a paper trail.”
Half of Hale’s mouth curled up in a smile. “She said that everyone knows you. Apparently, you’re a frequent shopper in the area.”
“Well, I’ll be!” Calvin chirped. “You’re a famous lawnsaler. You should call the History channel. Maybe they’ll give you your own show!”
Gertrude had no idea what he was talking about, but she was fairly certain it warranted a dirty look. “Pretty sure I’m too young to be on the History channel, Calvin.” She turned her gaze back to Hale. “Guess I’ll have to solve the mystery of the lawn sale burglar later. I am dog-tired.”
She started toward her trailer, then thought better of it and turned back to Hale. “You’re going to throw the book at her, right?”
Hale smirked. “She has been charged with breaking and entering, yes. But it seems she didn’t actually steal anything.”
“All right then. Fair enough.” She paused, staring at him. Then, “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
“For what?”
“For catching your burglar and your murderer?”
He chuckled and looked off into the distance.
Gertrude noticed he was even more handsome in profile.
“This doesn’t change anything, you know,” he said.
“What?”
He looked at her, with just a hint of his grin remaining. “You’re still not a detective. This may or may not even count as evidence in court—”
“I could testify! I’ll say I saw it at the murder scene. And I found one of the dead birds then. And then I found the lamp.”
“As I was saying, it might not count. There is a process, Gertrude, and you’re not part of it. The court will have no way of telling where this lamp really came from or how you really came by it. You shouldn’t have jeopardized this case, and you shouldn’t have jeopardized your own safety either.”
Gertrude looked at Calvin. “Did that sound like a thank you to you, Calvin?” Then she looked at Hale. “Well then, you’re welcome, Deputy.” And she went inside and closed the door behind her.
Gertrude went straight to bed and slept soundly until three in the afternoon, when a chorus of demanding meows woke her. She had forgotten to give her children breakfast. She poured dry cat food into their bowls and they each gave her a dirty look before delicately digging in. She patted Sleet on the head as he ate, and then realized she was pretty hungry herself. She made herself a tuna fish and pickles sandwich, taking care to drain the tuna can into Sleet’s dish. He began to purr.
She balanced her plate on her walker as she made her way into the living room. As she plopped down in her recliner, she realized she was in an unusually good mood. She had really accomplished something. She had helped the police find a murderer, she had cleared Roderick’s name, she was sure of it, and she had made a new friend. She smiled as she took a big bite of her sandwich. Then, as she chewed slowly, savoring the crunchy sourness and the creamy mayo, she turned on the tube. Ah, Antiques Roadshow. Could this day get any better?
She watched the experts appraise a faded tapestry that turned out to be worth about twenty dollars; a painting that wasn’t worth anything; and a Tiffany lamp worth 125,000 dollars. That lamp owner burst into tears at the news of her windfall. Gertrude wondered how much the dead-bird-lamp was worth.
The tuna sandwich long gone, Gertrude was just about to drift off to sleep again when the show moved on to an antique salt and pepper shaker set. Gertrude’s eyes popped open as she knew she had the same set stashed away. She had picked it up the previous summer at a yard sale for only seventy-five cents.
The little shakers looked like small urns, and if she were to use them, she thought she’d always expect ashes to fall through the small holes.
The appraiser babbled loquaciously until Gertrude was about to throw her shoe at the screen, and then he finally provided a number to justify his excitement: 85,000 dollars.
Gertrude’s mouth fell open.
She flew out of the chair, knocking Drizzle off the armrest, flipped on the lights, and furiously dug through her piles until she found her set. Then she hurried back to the television to compare hers to the lottery winner’s, but it was too late. They’d moved on to an old rocking chair.
It didn’t matter. She was certain. It was the same set.
She called the Somerset County Sheriff’s Department and asked to speak to Deputy Hale.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s gone home for the evening. Can another deputy help you?”
“Don’t call me ma’am, and no, I need to speak to Hale.”
“Can I ask what this is regarding?”
“It’s a matter of life and death.”
“Ma’am, is this an emergency?”
“No. I just need to talk to Hale.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not possible.”
“Look. Just call him. Trust me. He will be glad you did. Tell him to call Gertrude, and tell him it’s a matter of life and death.” She spoke the last few words slowly for emphasis. Then she gave the befuddled woman her phone number. “It’s a cellular telephone,” Gertrude added. Not because this was pertinent information, but because she was a little proud to own such a thing.
“I’ll see what I can do. Are you sure you’re not in any danger?”
“Nope.”
“And no one else is in any danger?”
“Well I’m sure someone is, somewhere, but I’m the only one in this trailer.”
“OK. You have a good night.”
Gertrude could hardly stand the waiting. She sat in her chair, but then got back up and paced her narrow paths, never taking her eyes off her phone for more than a few seconds at a time. After a very long ten minutes, Hale called back.
“Hello?” Gertrude said cheerily.
“What?” Hale snapped.
“Did you get the results back on that fingerprint yet?” Gertrude asked.
“No!” Hale barked. “Is that why you interrupted my supper? Dispatch said it was life-or-death!”
“Oh, it absolutely is,” Gertrude assured him. “I know what she was after.”
“What who was after?”
“The burglar! It was a salt and pepper shaker that I got at a lawn sale in Waterville last summer. It was an awful humid day, but my friend from church took me lawnsaleing. Maybe you know her—her name is Sally? Awful nice lady, though much older than myself. I think that’s why she likes spending time with me. I keep her young with all my youthful energy—”
“Please get to the point.”
“I’ve already told you the point! The burglar was after the salt and pepper shaker set, the ugliest things you ever saw, but I guess they’re worth a pretty penny. Anyway, you should ask her—”
“I highly doubt she broke into your home, more than once I might add, to steal salt and pepper shakers.”
“But she did! I just saw it on Antiques Roadshow. One of their hotshot antiquers said it was worth eighty-five grand! And I’ve got the same set! Mine are in good shape too!”
Hale paused.
“You still there?” she prodded.
“Yes. Well, all right. I’ll ask the suspect.”
“Thanks. Can you also ask her if she broke in back in September?”
“What? Why?”
“Well someone broke into my trailer back then, but I thought it was the stripper, so I chased her out with a bat.”
Hale actually laughed. “A bat, huh? All right. You get some sleep, Gertrude, and please, don’t call back.” Hale hung up.
So did Gertrude, a broad smile on her face. Nothing felt quite so satisfying as solving a mystery.