The Dust of Death

Chapter 2

The sun was shining through her window like a radiant spotlight. The white lace curtains billowed in the warm breeze. Sophie heard the birds singing, heralding the new day with a chorus of riotous song. She looked down at her brand new shoes. They were beautiful, she decided. And her little white socks with the pink bows matched the bow in her hair perfectly. Her old shoes had been okay, but these were just like Molly's, and everyone knew Molly had the prettiest shoes in the whole class. Sophie felt she would burst with joy. She was so happy inside.

"Sophie, don't forget your sweater," Mommy said. "I know it's beautiful outside, but you had the sniffles last week. If you get hot, take it off later, but for now, I want you to wear it."

"Yes, Mommy," Sophie said.

"Now, here's your lunch. I packed some extra pieces of taffy for your friend, Molly."

Sophie smiled lovingly at her mother.

"Now, scoot. You're going to be late. Remember, be a good girl, today. Daddy's promised to take us both on a picnic Sunday. I do hope the weather is as beautiful as it is today. I love you, Sweetie. Now, scoot."

Sophie kissed her mother lightly and skipped out the door.

*****

"Look at this headline!" Phalen said. "Have you seen this morning's edition?"

"No," said Flix, "I haven't had time."

Phalen handed Flix the paper.

"My word! This is horrendous," Flix said, reading the article. "I always think the worst when I see this kind of headline."

"It's hard," Phalen said, "to be optimistic the way the world is."

"Umm," Flix said. "No witnesses. And if I read between the lines correctly, no one's sure exactly when she went missing."

"I know. She didn't report to school."

"Who knows if she decided to go play the day away because the weather was so beautiful or if she was snatched by some fiend and never made it to school. It appears that no one knew she was missing until late afternoon."

"Kids are so unpredictable. You know, she favors my youngest sister at that age," said Phalen. "Police think she's a runaway. Parents deny that, of course."

"And that is perfectly natural," Flix said. "What parent worth his salt wants the world to think his home is not a happy one?"

"I know, but there must be some reason the cops believe she's run away."

"Maybe. Maybe not. They are awfully busy these days. Prohibition has not made their jobs any easier. They are up to their eyeballs in gang crime, over their heads in payoffs, and entangled in a web of who to go after and who-paid-their-protection-money-this month-so-we-leave-them-alone.

A lot of our police are finding it hard to distinguish the good guys from the bad. It's not black and white. Especially, since so many of the men in blue are just about as corrupt as the bad guys.

How old is she?"

"Ten," Phalen said. "But she looks younger, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Flix said, "that's not a current picture."

"You're right. It probably isn't," Phalen said. "Still, it must be murder on her parents. As bad as it is to find your child has come to a horrible end, I'd imagine not knowing whether she was alive or dead is worse."

"You can say that again," Flix said.

There was a knock a the door.

"Sir," the secretary said, "your appointment is here."

"Send her in, Mrs. Glenny," Flix said.

Flix glanced over at Phalen. The sour look on his partner's face said it all.

Mrs. Lime.

It was going to be a long day.