Mustang Case File #1

Chapter Twelve

HE READ THE LETTERS.

I KNOW YOUR SECRET! Dermot presumed this to be the first threat.

STOP, BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE, YOU HAVE A LOT TO LOSE! He thought this may be the second threat.

I CAN GET INTO YOUR OFFICE AND NOW INTO YOUR HOME—DO YOU BELIEVE ME NOW? YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO.

He hunted for the fourth letter, to no avail.

So once again Dermot's sleep was extremely restless. He couldn't wait to tell his sleuthing mates, Carolyn Baldick knew she was on someone's hit list!

SUNDAY

Jack had a leisurely morning. He knew it was time to sort his washing out but it looked too hard so he went down town and bought a new pair of jeans, shirt and underwear. Then it was lunch time and he joined the locals in the bar, found his usual spot and engaged the fat man.

"Any update on the local murder?" He wasn't in the mood for idle chit chat and sometimes getting straight to the point was worth it. And today it was.

The fat man leant toward Jack and spoke quietly, "I gotta be a bit careful who I tell what to, you know?" But when Jack looked at him blankly and shrugged, indicating he was only filling in time, the fat man said, "Some of these blokes are my customers, and I want to keep it that way, like if they haven't done anything wrong. Far be it for me to point the finger, but that bloke from Pavlova Corporation, Leo Sheffield, well he and Gerard Heathrow were drinking here the night Gerard went missing. They were real cozy like. Looking over some architect papers and a map of Christchurch. They were sitting at that table over there," he said pointing to a table in the darkened corner of the bar, "and when I brought them another beer they acted all shifty like. Stopped their nattering and Gerard hastily folded up some drawings and a map."

"Sounds like they were just mates," Jack drawled then took another gulp of his beer.

"Nah, they weren't mates. Odd couple. Whenever they met up, Leo looked real unhappy. When he was on his own in here, he was a completely different fellow, you know carefree, normal like. Old Gerard made Leo uncomfortable, for that I'm sure."

Jack nodded, "Can't account for some people. Wonder where he's scarpered to? Saw a couple of guys pounding the streets the last couple of days. It's my hunch they're detectives. Guess they'll track him down some time or other."

"Nah. They're not interested in a missing person when they've a real live dead body on their hands. Word is..." and he leant close to Jack again, "...the forensic team have worked out when that woman was murdered, last week, on the Wednesday night."

"Guess it's hard not to hear what punters say, aye?" Jack said.

"Sure is," the fat man replied. "Sure is. And that's the thing, we..." He looked around the bar at the other patrons, "well not these geezers, they're mostly tourists, but some of us locals reckon old Gerard Heathrow has done the deed. Murdered that woman and then hightailed it."

"Gerard Heathrow's the missing bloke and you all think he done the woman in?"

Baldie nodded and tapped the side of his nose. Then he added as an afterthought, "Well not ALL of us, you understand. Some of us reckon old Harriet Mustang may have done the deed."

Jack slowly emptied his glass, checked his watch, life in Akaroa was a gossip fest and he planned on perpetuating the fest when he caught up with his mates that night.

* * *

Earlier Poppy was finding it rather annoying having to pretend to read an extremely old Vanity Fair for the fifth time, as she eavesdropped on the two detectives while they had breakfast, talked over coffee for an hour and then rang their superiors or it could even have been their wives, men were such gossips. But during that time, she overheard Red-ears say something that made her very excited to meet up with Jack and Dermot at 7 p.m. Weren't they going to be real pleased she decided to stay and snoop for them!