Killing Dreams ~An American Victorian Steampunk Murder Mystery

Chapter 4 Part 4

#killingdreams

"Oh! Of course! If we can use the glass as sort of a magnifier we can melt her out of the snow bank without damaging the body!" Peter exclaimed.

"Absolutely," Bill said, a rather smug expression coming over his face. "All we need to do now is find something to prop it up with and determine the proper angle."

Peter Lachman was so overcome with joy for this day's events that he couldn't help but burst into long, loud laughter.

~*~

"So tell me boys," Patches queried as the little fellowship made their way back across the street. "Where are you from?"

"Our parents came over," Ted started.

"From Dublin, Ireland and we're second generation," Tad continued.

"Born right here in Denver," they finished together.

There were three things that Patches gave her respect to right away: Good dogs, good horses, and good, stout Irish cops. She felt lucky and counted herself in the best of company.

"What about you Ma'am?" Tad asked.

"Yes, where are you from?" Ted queried not a heartbeat after.

"Well," she replied, "let me put it to you this way, my father's name was Seamus Patrick McDuff. I was born near Macon, Georgia. I guess that makes me second generation too."

"Oh look here Ted," Tad said with a grin.

"We have a real southern belle Tad," Ted returned.

"How wonderful!" they said simultaneously.

Patches' laughter joined Peter's as they stepped onto the walk.

~*~

"I fail to see what's so funny," Weston grumbled. The twins put down the equipment quickly and the pair saluted their Captain. Weston gave them a half hearted salute in return. "About your business men," he ordered.

"Thank you boys," Patches told them with a kind smile. "You've been most helpful."

Together they tipped their hats to her and she made a mental note to invite them to the McDowell Christmas party, an especially boisterous jamboree held at their house every year usually consisting of half the CSM faculty, a handful of friends from the Western Union, most of the Colorado Telephone Company operators and their families.

"You don't look very happy, Captain," she noted setting up her tripod, "is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you can figure why nobody heard or saw anything," he said, staring down at a mostly empty page in his pocket notebook. Apparently he had forgotten who had spoken to him for a moment.

"Probably because there wasn't anything to see or hear," she said screwing the camera on the tripod. Weston looked at her now, the question blatant on his face. Her eyes met his and she felt continuing was warranted. "I think it's safe to presume that if she died here three or more days ago she may have traveled from some other location. Of course we can't be sure until we look at her feet, but I'm going to guess by the position of her body, she more than likely stopped here and then died."

"Which means you might want to search the surrounding blocks," Bill said. He bent to kiss his wife and gently stroked her face, "Brilliant deduction love."

"Thank you darling," she responded, flashing him that beautiful smile she reserved only for him. "I learned it from you."

Weston rolled his eyes. This was just what he needed, his consultants playing patty fingers at a crime scene. What made it worse was that he knew they were right.

"Haddock!" he yelled all of the sudden making Patches jump, wince and put her hand to her ear. Bill instinctively put his arm around her.

Sergeant Haddock closed the distance between them in three long strides, "Sir!"

"Round up as many men as you can spare and canvas a six block area in all directions. I want to know if anyone saw or heard anything as far back as four days ago," Weston ordered. "Report back to me as soon as you have something."

"Yes sir!" Haddock replied and strode off to do the Captains bidding.

"Now," Weston glared at Peter, trying his level best to remain calm. "Is there a reason why that body isn't in your ambulance yet?"

"Yes," Peter replied attempting to become serious for the Captain's sake. "But we have a solution."

"Having a solution generally means there's a problem," Weston sighed, nearing exasperation. "You can't just dig her out?"

"Well, no," Peter replied, "see because she's frozen to the ground. If we try to lift or dig her out we might damage her and I need her whole to determine the cause of death."

"Oh," the Captain intoned, peering at the body. "So what are you going to do?"

To Be Continued...

#myssahleeauthor