Dialing Murder (Amateur Sleuth Cozy Mystery) Read online

  Miss Carnegie was tall and straight laced. Her authoritative air enough to send shivers down their spines. She looked Lily up and down.

  "Follow me, Miss Bantry. Don't you have somewhere to be, Miss Mills?"

  Maisie skulked to her seat. She sat beside Lizzie who was already dealing with calls.

  "Lizzie, you'll never guess who called to the house last night."

  "Who was that girl with you Maisie?"

  As calls came through, their conversation would have to wait. The exchange was busy. There was no let up from the calls.

  "Yes, you will find your way to… Goodbye."

  Maisie's body froze as she felt the tap on her shoulder. She was in trouble now.

  "Miss Mills, my office now," Miss Carnegie snapped, as she turned on her heel to the back room that housed her office. Maisie knew what was coming. She had already received a warning.

  "You are fully aware of our new policy in not being an information center. We are here to connect one caller to the other. That is your job, is it not?"

  Miss Carnegie looked at Maisie. "What have you got to say for yourself? This is not the first conversation we have had in this regard. Make it the last, Miss Mills."

  "Yes, Miss Carnegie. It won't happen again. May I take my break now? Is it okay if take Miss Bantry too?" Maisie asked, trying to regain some composure. She hated feeling like a little girl being chastised. She hated not being able to talk to the callers.

  Miss Carnegie had instituted a new rule only a few weeks earlier. They were not to give directions or information to callers. They were merely to connect the caller to another.

  "Very well. Take twenty minutes. You were ten minutes late getting to your station."

  Miss Carnegie became occupied with mail on her desk. Maisie wanted to answer back and had even opened her mouth, but it was best to battle another day. She had to tell Lizzie about Lily and her brother George.

  Suitably reprimanded, Maisie returned to her seat. On her way, she saw Lily. Poor Lily looked horrified, her cheeks flushed as she tried to learn the ropes. Maisie gently placed her hand on Lily's shoulder. The young woman shrieked with fright causing those around her to turn their heads.

  "Lily, I'm sorry. It's our lunchtime. Come and meet Lizzie," Maisie said. Lily stood up to walk with Maisie but she stopped Lily in her tracks. Lily still had her headphones on.

  "Crisis averted. You look like you could do with a break." Maisie smiled.

  Lizzie joined them, and they went to the small room where they eat their lunches. Having made the introductions, Lily began to cry. Her first morning of work had been overwhelming.

  "Please don't tell George that I cried. I don't think I'm cut out for this kind of work," poor Lily sobbed.

  "The first day is the toughest. Tomorrow it gets better. It seems like there's a lot to take in, but you'll get there. Miss Carnegie may be tough, but she is fair, I'll give her that. This is my second job in the city and it's far better than the first. Trust me. But Lizzie, I never told you who Lily's brother is?"

  "Really, your brother is the policeman from the Park. What a coincidence," Lizzie was suitably impressed when told about George. Lily beamed with pride.

  Maisie went on to tell Lizzie how she had to go to the police station. Lizzie shivered at the very thought.

  "Oh Maisie, how can you be so cavalier? Lily, you should have seen her yesterday. Our Maisie has ideas of being a policewoman, of all things." Lizzie rolled her eyes as she spoke.

  It proved to be the tonic Lily needed as she spat her out drink.

  "A policewoman! George said it will never be. Women don't have the constitution for it."

  "It's a new time. I imagine years ago women thought their dresses would never be this short and look at them now. I plan on being the first policewoman," Maisie declared. Then she leaned closer to her friends and whispered. "Although it's not something I go around telling people."

  The three young women laughed.

  "I've been penalized for bringing in a new recruit. I'm back to work. Lily, will you be able to find your way home after work?"

  Lily looked a little pale at the thought of having to venture by herself.

  "Don't worry about that Maisie. I'll take her home with me, and you swing by after you've solved the crime," Lizzie smiled and winked at Lily.

  Time had never gone by so slowly for Maisie. She had disconnected some calls already. She was thankful that the usually eagle eyed Miss Carnegie had been too busy with Lily to notice.

  Finally, Maisie connected her last call and her day was finished.

  She said goodbye to her friends and made her way to where George was stationed. She gave her name to the desk sergeant and sat and waited. No one came to her. Maisie was getting frustrated. She stood up about to complain when George and his detective came through the front door. George was carrying a small suitcase, Maisie observed. George came to her.

  "Miss Mills, please accept our apologies. This is Detective Blake. Detective, this is the young woman who found the body yesterday. She may have some pertinent information."

  "Officer Bantry will take your statement again. George, the case."

  The detective left them alone and Maisie wondered if the case belonged to the victim.

  "Come this way, Miss Mills. Tea, coffee? Daniels, will you bring us two coffees." George gestured for her to follow him.

  Maisie wanted to burst and could contain herself no longer.

  "Officer Bantry, have you identified the victim? Was that his suitcase?"

  George put a conspiratorial finger to his lips and shook his head. He pulled a chair close to his as he took his seat. "It's the darnedest thing," he said. "We finally figured that the key belonged to a locker at Grand Central Station. I shouldn't be telling you this, but you were right, he was poisoned. The coroner is still trying to figure out how it was administered."

  Maisie's eyes widened. George looked away, and she thought he looked a little flushed.

  "What was in his suitcase?"

  "Nothing to identify him. We had a quick look through, but Detective Blake will give it a thorough going over. It's got us stumped, that's for sure. We do know he was in a fight. His body had bruising but no hits to the face. You know what else, the labels of his clothes removed. We can't even trace him by his clothing? Did you remember anything else about the man? I'd better start taking some notes."

  Maisie watched Detective Blake survey the suitcase, but she couldn't see its contents. George called for her attention.

  "Ah yes, Officer Bantry. It is a rather curious case. Do you think he was on the lam? I think there may have been a woman with him earlier in the day. I only wish I hadn't been so distracted by the boys and their game. I remember something reflecting the sun. But I'm afraid I have no idea if it is connected to the woman or the poor victim. While I'm usually very observant, I'm afraid I have nothing specific to say. I hoped I'd remember more."

  "Other witnesses seem to remember a woman being with him. There was nothing specific about her. Except she had long dark hair," George said in a very professional manner.

  He lowered his voice to ask, "how is my sister, Miss Mills? She got a job with you?"

  "She got on swell today. She's with my friend Lizzie. She was with me yesterday at the Park. Please call me Maisie. George, may I call you George?" Maisie moved in closer and George seemed to gulp for air and nodded. She whispered in his ear, "I want to see what's in the suitcase."

  George pulled back.

  "That's out of the question, Miss Mills. I've already shared far too much information with you!" George turned pale.

  "Nonsense, George," Maisie said. "I might just see something that a man wouldn't notice. Call it women's intuition."

  Fate seemed to be on Maisie's side as Detective Blake was not in his office.

  "George, please," Maisie said.

  "Stay there." George stood up and left her for a moment. Detective Blake had passed by them unnoticed. The desk sergeant had no idea
how long the detective would be gone.

  George returned to Maisie.

  "Just a quick in and out, Maisie. Or I'll get fired for sure."

  Maisie made a "cross my heart" sign on her chest as George played look-out. Maisie ran into the room, and the suitcase was open. She looked at the clothes but time was of the essence, and Detective Blake had no doubt already done that. No, there had to be something. Maisie ran her hands around the lining of the suitcase. She felt something underneath. It was a piece of paper. In fact, as she unfolded it, there were two pieces of paper, one was a flier and the other a letter.

  Maisie looked at George, about to reveal her find but he looked edgy, and she saw him leave his desk. The detective must have returned. "Drat," Maisie said as she put the paper back where she found it. She ran back to her seat. George had somehow managed to turn the detective around, so his office and Maisie were not in view.

  "George, I really do not think that information is pertinent."

  The detective walked towards his office. He stopped to look at Maisie but said nothing.

  "I wish I had something more to tell you, Officer Bantry." Maisie turned her attention to George.

  Detective Blake moved on. It was her chance to tell George what she'd found. She leaned in closer to him.

  "George, there are two pieces of paper in the lining. Go in there now and find it. A poem or letter and a flier for a men's boarding house. It might be a lead. And thank you! It's good to feel useful. Let me know how it pans out."

  George stood up to walk Maisie out, but she put her hand on his arm to stop him walking her out. Her eyes darted to the detective's office. George understood. The chances of finding a clue before the great Detective Blake was too good an opportunity to miss. George smiled at her. Maisie lingered to see if she could hear or see George in action. She had the name of the boarding house. Would she go there? She heard George talking to the detective.

  "Detective Blake, I was wondering if I could search the suitcase. Another set of eyes as it were?"

  For the first time since moving to the city, Maisie was feeling useful. It didn't matter who got the acclaim, she knew she had the found the clue. She'd keep this coup to herself.

  It was too late for a respectable young woman to call to a men's boarding house. Maisie wasn't quite sure she was that brave. Instead, she made her way to Lizzie's boarding house. Lily and Lizzie were getting on very well.

  "No stories to tell us, Maisie. I thought you would have solved the case by now," Lizzie teased.

  Maisie was content to stay silent. She didn't want it sound like George needed her help or that she had manipulated him in any way. It wouldn't be fair to Lily.

  "Being a police officer in the city is very different from being a town's sheriff. I never considered the contrast before, that's all. Lily, are you ready to go home? I'm sure Mrs. Hopkins will be wondering where we are."

  "See you gals tomorrow," Lizzie said as waved them goodbye.

  "What a day Lily. I think it was the best one I've had in ages. I do envy your brother. Papa used to tell me it was a pity I was a girl."

  "You are the strangest girl I have ever met, Maisie. You didn't tell George I cried."

  "Goodness, no. I said you got on very well. Here we are home at last. My Mary Janes are killing me."

  Mrs. Hopkins had saved dinner for them. Maisie wasn't up for conversation as she tried to figure out a way she could visit the men's boarding house. Could she possibly be so daring? But what would she say? Where they missing any men? It seemed implausible. Perhaps it was best to leave it to the police. Maisie yawned. Her body was tired but her brain was in overdrive.

  "Maisie, will you help me make my clothes a little more fashionable. If you're not too busy that is."

  Although she wanted to go to bed, Maisie went to Lily's room to look at her clothes.

  "Lily, we can shorten this hem, and you can match this blouse with this skirt."

  Maisie loved clothes as much as she loved mysteries. They stayed up until midnight. Maisie's yawning finally sending her back to her room.

  Maisie didn't need help falling as asleep. As soon as she lay her head on the pillow, she was out for the count.

  As soon as she opened her eyes the next morning, she wondered what the police had found at the boarding house. Had they gone there last night or would they wait until the morning? Would she ever know, she asked herself?

  The following morning was uneventful. At work, Maisie and Lily parted ways as Lily was on training duty. Lizzie was busy with her calls and smiled at her friend.

  As Maisie was connecting a call, something about their greeting caused her to pause. Maisie looked around. Miss Carnegie was nowhere to be seen. Maisie kept listening to the call. It was short and direct.

  "It wasn't on him," the voice on the phone said. "I looked in Mrs. Leech's Boarding House. I can't find it."

  The call ended.

  Maisie froze. Mrs. Leech's Boarding House For Men was the flier in the victim's suitcase. Were they talking about the victim?

  Chapter Three

  The conversation was too coincidental. They had to be talking about the victim. Maisie called the police station, but George was out. She didn't want to leave a message. Making the decision to go to the boarding house was bold and brass. There was no doubt that Maisie was going to get into trouble. Either with Detective Blake or Miss Carnegie. Probably both of them would take issue.

  Maisie left her work station and grabbing her coat and cloche left work. It wasn't too far, and she ran as fast as she could. Not quite sure why she needed to run, Maisie kept going. What a coup for George she thought? She could let him know the callers exchange. It was another clue.

  It dawned on her that she still had no reason to be at the boarding house. She had the victim's name so she could pretend she was his sister or sweetheart. With her hand trembling, Maisie ran the doorbell. Back home, everyone knew everyone. Now for her first mystery in the city, she was going to come face to face with a possible suspect.

  Mrs. Leech opened the door and eyed the young woman standing before. Maisie had to act fast before the woman closed the door on her.

  "What do you want? This is no place for women."

  "Um, um, I am looking for my uncle. He's about 6 feet tall with dark hair and slim build. I'm calling on different boarding houses to see if he lives here."

  The woman folded her arms.

  "What's your uncle's name?"

  Maisie had to think fast. "I suspect he may be using different names. Are you missing any of her boarders?

  "Why wouldn't you know your uncle's name? You're fishing for something."

  Maisie had to think on her feet.

  "You've seen through me, haven't you?"

  The woman nodded.

  "I'm Clara. He was my sweetheart and disappeared. I want to know why he did it." Maisie pulled her out her handkerchief for effect and dabbed her non-existent tears. She gave herself credit for not using her real name. Thank goodness Clara Bow had come to mind. The woman relaxed her arms.

  "I thought so. A smartly dressed young lady like you. I guessed as much. Come in."

  Mrs. Leech lead her through to the back of the house to her living quarters.

  "The men move about so much. It surprises me that more women don't turn up, Clara. The man you describes sounds like John Smith. Has he left you in the…" Maisie watched as Mrs. Leech's eyes went to her tummy.

  "Oh no. Nothing like that." Maisie said with a blush, embarrassed by the woman's question.

  "Where did you say you were from?" Mrs. Leech asked as she disappeared into the small kitchen to make her some tea.

  "Oh around. Where is Mr. Smith now?"

  Maisie looked around the living area. Mrs. Leech's quarters were very refined and delicate. It reminded her of a dolls house. No man lived here, of that she was sure.

  "I have no idea. He left a couple of days ago."

  "He didn't leave any forwarding address. Did you know him well
?"

  "As well as I can know any of them. They pay their rent. Sometimes we talk. Some are down on their luck and have left families in other cities. John, I mean, Mr. Smith was a pleasant man."

  What a slip, Maisie thought. There was a familiarity in calling him by his first name, and she knew he wasn't there anymore. Was Mrs. Leech the woman in the park?

  "When did he move? Did he leave anything behind."

  "As I said, he moved out a few days ago. No, he didn't leave anything behind. It's best that you forget about him. A pretty little thing like you doesn't need to worry about finding love. Mr. Smith was a charming man. He told you what you needed to hear," Mrs. Leech paused, before continuing, "it didn't mean anything to him. How could it?" Mrs. Leech stopped talking as she looked passed Maisie. There was a sadness in Mrs. Leech's eyes.

  Maisie sipped her tea. Was Mrs. Leech remembering a past love?

  "Is your husband at work, Mrs. Leech?"

  "I'm a widow…"

  The doorbell attracted Mrs. Leech's attention.

  Maisie was picking at some cake when she heard a very familiar voice. She froze. George and Detective Blake were at the door of the boarding house! What was she going to do? She could hear the detective asking questions about the deceased man.

  "You're the second person today asking about him. Has something happened?" To Maisie's mind, Mrs. Leech's voice cracked as she asked the question.

  Patience was not her virtue. Maisie moved a little closer to the door to hear the conversation a little better. A man stormed down the stairs. She watched as the man pushed George back through the front door causing him to land on his back. The man threw white powder at poor George. Maisie ran towards him as she saw Detective Blake grab the assailant and shout at George. Poison had been used to murder the man in the Park and now poor George was covered in a white powder.

  "Don't touch your face, Bantry. We don't know what's in the powder. Miss Mills, what are you doing here?" Detective Blake called out.

  Maisie had to act fast. Poison. George would need medical attention immediately. She knew from her mystery novels not to touch George. And instead knelt beside him as he was still sitting on his backside. Did he think it was the same poison that killed the victim?