[Home,Valuable,Enemy,Accident,Dominate]

  Eve arrived within five minutes of my call. I put the hardcover book on the nightstand, where I’d found it. Eve said to leave the duffel packed. If the police wanted to, they could take the whole thing. I took a photo of the napkin before calling Eve and sent it to my digital whiteboard. This was looking more and more like a jealous boyfriend or possibly a spurned lover that Lachlan might have been talking about in the pub.

  What I know right now, is that Lachlan liked to sit in the pub and flaunt his writing to whoever might be impressed by an intellectual pursuit. But what was he writing, the science fiction smut or the psychological horror. So I’m split between two very promising theories. One he stole someone's work and they killed him for it. That also explains the dramatic improvement in his manuscript. But that doesn’t explain the threatening note from the pub. Two he is bragging about his romantic conquests in the pub and is killed for it. That would explain the threatening note I’d just found, but not the improvement in his writing style.

  Could two things actually be going on simultaneously of course that has to be a possibility unfortunately that doubles the number of suspects. I’m trying to narrow down the suspect pool, not double it. A writer wouldn’t have to kill him if their work was stolen. They would have the courts to get compensation for a stolen idea and prevent publication by Lachlan all in one shot. The writer could just sue Lachlan in small claims court, show the court an older version of the plot then the one Lachlan stole.

  Writing is hard work. The first time a writer loses even a single day's work is when they learn the absolute necessity of backing up anything digital. Even analog needs backup, which is as simple and as cheap as a photocopy. So taking that logic into account the possibility that the killer is a jealous boyfriend or spurned lover is maybe seventy or seventy five percent and twenty five percent that Lachlan stole from a Lizzie Borden writer that just went over the edge and killed him.

  While those percentages may be quite accurate or far off base they still can’t close the widening pool of suspects. Eve arrived and I took her up to Lachlan’s room and she made a video of me as I walked her through exactly how I’d found the note. Then we called the police. We waited in the store, until they arrived. Presumably they remembered where Lachlan’s room was but I left the door wide open for them in any case.

  After arriving they spent about thirty minutes gathering more evidence.

  “Laura, you remember, the interview process, I’m sure. But just to reiterate, short succinct answers only to direct factual questions. You look at me before answering, if the question is improper. I will answer it for you.”

  Then Jones was standing in front of us.

  “Quite the junior detective aren’t you Ms Eriksson.”

  “Did you have a question, detective, or would you like to give my client the pay she deserves for doing your department's job for it.” Eve asked

  “Yes I have a question, didn’t you in fact just create this piece of evidence, just like the ax sheath you cleverly hid in your bookshelves?”

  “No”

  “Why were you in the victim’s room?”

  I looked at Eve and after a second she nodded her head

  “I was packing Lachlan's belongings for his parents.”

  “Did you remove anything from the room?”

  Again I looked to Eve before answering, she nodded.

  “Yes I did, the sheets and the dirty clothes that were laying on the floor.”

  “Where are they now?”

  Eve nodded.

  “They’re in the washing machine.”

  “I could arrest you right now for trying to destroy evidence.”

  Eve replied. “I really really wish that you would do that, detective. The detective that replaces you might actually start looking at the physical evidence and stop looking at the victim of the same assailant. Please arrest her. I so look forward to taking you apart in front of the judge. As it is, I’ll be contacting the District Attorney later today over the utter incompetence displayed so far in this case, by your entire department and you in particular.”

  He barked at one of the techs to get the contents of the washer. The tech looked like they wanted to argue. Perhaps to say if there was any evidence it was now likely gone. Instead they just turned and asked me where the washer was. I walked them to the laundry room. They thanked me and retrieved the clothes, putting the sodden mess of clothes and sheets in two large plastic bags.

  We walked back to the front of the store where Eve and Jones were glaring at each other. Jones didn’t say a single word to me, just stomped out the front door. I’m not sure that finding evidence is doing me any good at all. But that thought led to another thought. The note was obviously created by a person who was threatening Lachlan at the pub. The name of the pub was clearly displayed on the napkin. So we know the source of the materials. Napkin was sourced at the pub. What about the black sharpie? Did Hazel supply it, or did the note writer already have it, in their possession?

  I thanked Eve for her help and fast response.

  “Oh, honey, this is fun for me. That detective is the biggest ass I think I’ve ever encountered in law enforcement and I’ve met a lot. But I meant what I said I’ll contact the DA later today, and at least ask for someone competent to be appointed. We can’t have you doing all their work for them.”

  She left with a promise to contact me if she heard anything about the case. I went back to Lachlan’s room to finish my search, it would probably be pointless. I wish that I’d searched his desk first. I expected that to be the richest source of information so I purposely had left it for last. My thought process was to clear the entire room and make a large space to spread out the contents of the desk, to make a kind of whiteboard of the bed with the contents of the desk, unpiled, spread flat, a birds eye view.

  The desk was now completely cleared. All of the documents that lay there an hour ago were now in an evidence box. Probably never to be looked at again, and the person who might be most qualified to evaluate them would never have access. Of course, if I’d searched the desk first and I’d found any evidence on the desk. I would have called Eve and the police, and I never would have found that threatening note.

  So the desktop cleared, except for a few pencils, paperclips and dust. I sat at the desk and started opening the drawers, they were completely empty. I was reaching and I knew it, but I removed each of the drawers one by one and placed them on the desk, where I checked them for false bottoms. After being sure that the bottom of the drawer was in fact the actual bottom, I flipped the drawers over to see if anything was taped to the bottom. I’d seen this used in countless books I edited, it was much simpler than constructing a false bottom, but also probably not as secure a hiding place.

  It was the second drawer that I turned over that I found it. A manuscript for a graphic novel or manga, it was in black or white, it was in a large ziplock plastic bag, taped with duct tape to the bottom of the drawer. I didn’t touch the plastic bag. I wanted so badly to see just what this graphic novel was and why was it a secret? I’d ask Monique about it as soon as the police left. Maybe Lachlan had spoken to her about it.

  Then I got back on the phone to Eve. We repeated the same process, as before Eve arrived and took a video of how I’d come to discover the bag. Then she called the police. An incensed Jones and his deputies arrived back at the store. This time he had us all go up to the room together.

  “Ms Eriksson, how did you happen upon this piece of supposed evidence?”

  Eve nodded that it was okay to answer.

  “I was searching to see if anything else was missed, mysteries and spy thrillers often have a scene where something is hidden either with a false bottom or by taping something to the underside of the drawer. I’ve only checked these two drawers.”

  It was by far the longest sentence I’d ever spoken to Jones. The deputies carefully removed the bag and duct tape, putting them in a larger evidence bag. Then they removed the rest of the drawers. They checked for false bottoms, and also if anything was concealed underneath.

  “Ms Eriksson, is there anywhere else in this room that you have not searched?”

  Eve nodded to go ahead.

  “Yes I didn’t get to the closet or underneath the mattress, or under the box spring. The deputies removed the mattress from the bed standing it against the wall. Then they flipped over the box spring and examined the fabric carefully to make sure nothing had been slipped in there. Then they helpfully set it back into the bed frame. Meanwhile another deputy researched the closet to make sure they had not missed another piece of evidence.

  “Ms Eriksson, do you suggest that we start tearing down the walls to make sure that there is nothing concealed in them.”

  Eve answered this one, “If you do detective, you can bet that I will have your department in court tomorrow morning for damages. I understand your frustration with your department. But if you take it out on my client, the town will be billed and they will pay.”

  I’m not sure if it was a half smile or a grimace that passed across his face. Or possibly he was in pain, it was a really hard expression to witness. But he turned and left with his deputies trailing behind him. I again thanked Eve.

  “Don’t thank me, just tell me you don’t plan to turn this whole case into a novel?”

  “No, I hadn’t even considered it.”

  “Good don’t because after we are sure you are in the clear, I want to write it. It’s going to make one of the finest true crime books of all time. I mean true crime often focuses on just how badly the police have messed up a case but this one is just not to be believed. Two clues in a two hundred and fifty square feet room. That the police miss, and twice in one day. Three pieces overall. All discovered by the victim that they are trying to pin the crime on. I plan on writing the outline tonight and submitting it to the district attorney.”

  “Why give it to the district attorney?”

  “Because I want him to think about how he is going to come across in the book, a local yokel who is as dense as the investigating team that has done little to uncover the real culprit or the man who stepped in to set the investigation on a path that may find the murderer.”

  “Wow, I’m really, really glad you are on my side Eve.”

  “Call me if you find more evidence in the walls, I’d just love to see Jones' face, if you did.”

  I laughed. “No plans to take down any walls. But I’ll call you if I find anything else.”

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  As soon as Eve left I went up and knocked on Monique’s door but there was no answer so she must have finished up or just needed a break and left, she must have gone out the backdoor, because I didn’t see her leave through the store.

  So with half an hour before Amy and Anais were due to arrive, I decided to update my Obsidian vault dedicated to solving the case. I put all the pictures I had on the canvas or whiteboard in the notetaking program, then I made some notes on my thoughts about the case. I tried to link what I thought were connected clues.

  How different that Faith had spoken about Lachlan from the way her roommate Sarah saw him and for good reason to. I mean he is already sleeping with her roommate, did he really believe that Sarah was just going to betray her friend like that? He must have had a very low opinion of women in general if he believed that.

  Hopefully we get lucky tonight and find some more women who fell for Lachlan’s struggling author act. I get that someone would be attracted to an artist. But anyone could sit in a coffeeshop or a bar typing away. They could be one of the random monkeys that eventually compose Romeo and Juliet. But I remember reading that is an impossibility, the universe will end first and just the probabilities are so low that it would never happen.

  I then decided that I had nothing to lose by checking for surveillance again. My car was already in position so I grabbed my mostly fully charged phone and went out and taped it to the window aimed exactly as it had been when I’d caught Claire on video. With just minutes to go before Anais would be tapping her foot at the door I went up and retrieved my coat. I could see she was at the door tapping her foot, her mouth going a mile a minute probably bad mouthing me to Amy.

  “Anais, as you can see I already have my coat and I have lots of news, so let's not argue that I came down the stairs thirty seconds late.”

  “It’s two minutes after eight, Laura, that's four times thirty seconds. You do understand the concept of time.”

  “Yes, according to Einstein it’s all relative. See I must have been moving fast enough that only thirty seconds passed for but for you two whole minutes passed, it’s amazing, when you think about it.”

  “Yes, that is amazing Laura, how did you achieve speeds approaching the speed of light?”

  “Well if I had to choose just one thing, I think it would be Saturday Morning IPA. Amy you have to try it, it’s like Saturday morning and H.R. Pufnstuf is on TV.”

  “Oh I loved that show.”

  “Yeah, me too. I’d fill my cereal bowl with every commercial.”

  “But Punstuf wasn’t as good as Pee-wee’s Playhouse, ah to be a kid in the eighties, Nintendo, Pee-wee and Bill & Ted.”

  “I still love Bill and Ted, you don’t need to be a kid to appreciate them. I adored their third movie that came out during the pandemic. It was the first night of that whole year that I remember enjoying myself. I was home alone editing all day every day for ten months. But when that movie came on I had hope again. I just wish they’d give the daughters their own movie, they were amazing.”

  “I remember that Laura, we tried to Zoom and stream at the same time and my connection here in Placid kept dropping out because we didn’t have the bandwidth necessary to do both simultaneously. In the end I think I wound up not being able to do either because the connection was so overloaded I put in a DVD and just watched the original again. I still miss George Carlin.”

  When we got to the pub I loaded up a drink card and Amy wanted to pour her own, so she bought her own card and I went up and bought an IPA and a Lemonade, which was half beer, half Lemonade. We went back to the table and I handed Anais the Lemonade and I kept the IPA.

  “Anais, if you don’t like your beer, just tell me and we’ll trade. I have a plain IPA.”

  She took a tentative sip. And she actually smiled.

  “That is genuinely good, I can’t believe it. It’s just a little too sweet, I’d never be able to drink more than one but I do like that. Thank you Laura.”

  I was shocked, she hates anything new, this was a red letter day. I checked in with Hazel, asked her to point out any of Lachlan’s fan girls, if any come in.

  “Hazel, how come all of the games are turned off?” The room that held almost all of the games was dark and all of the games were switched off.”

  “We had a bit of an electrical issue and when the owner turned them on this afternoon it burnt out the circuit breaker. Sorry if you were planning on playing. The electrician promises to have power restored by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Oh, I don’t care, it’s my friend Amy who loves to play. Hey, you’re just trying to find an excuse to lure us back again tomorrow. You are too good a saleswoman for this job, you should be on wall street selling bitcoin or some other imaginary money.”

  Then I went back to the table and let them know about all three clues that I’d found today.

  “Laura, I told you to text me if you were going to do anything dangerous, didn’t I? Why didn’t you text me before you invited Claire over. You were facing a potential murderer and you knew too, you never would have sent off the shoplifter, if you really considered Claire to be harmless.”

  “Hey Anais, stop calling Lucy, a shoplifter, it’s not nice nor true. I wouldn’t let people say bad things about you, so please stop insulting Lucy.”

  “Who’s Lucy?” Amy asked.

  So I explained that she was my new intern. And Anais described how she had become my new intern.

  “That’s so cool, Laura, so you got an intern and you like her?”

  “Yes, she’s really very nice and a hard worker. On her first day I was busy investigating most of the afternoon, she handled all of the customers and also restocked all the shelves in the store. Plus she did it entirely on her own. I told her to walk around the store and familiarize herself with the store and she came back with a hand drawn map. The shelves were all labeled by genre. I never would have thought to do that when I was sixteen.”

  Amy said, “I have some news too, the techs were getting screamed at by both Jones and the chief of police. Then when the chief got done yelling at his ‘incompetent’ techs he started on Jones. The chief told him he better find someone who the actual evidence points to, or else he’d replace him.”

  “You are not going to get into trouble for telling me this, are you Amy?”

  “Are you kidding, they were yelling so loud, I’m surprised you didn’t hear them over at your store.”

  “That’s great, not great that they were getting yelled at but great that maybe now they’ll actually start pursuing the actual killer. Because I found three clues, but really I just widened the suspect pool. But if we assume the man keeping the store under surveillance is the killer, we can rule out all of my writers. As Ezra is the only male left, in the collective. There is no reason for him to observe from the outside when he could just as easily sit in the reading nook and watch the store all day if he felt like it.”

  “So you really think it’s a jealous boyfriend or a spurned lover that killed Lachlan?” Anais asked.

  “Just guessing at the probability I thought that it was seventy five percent versus twenty five percent for the author. A good author could likely prove the date that the they originally started writing out their idea. If Lachlan stole the idea they could take him to small claims court and sue him for ten thousand dollars for little to no cost, maybe a filing fee. No Lawyer necessary. That would also prevent him from publishing the original author's copyrighted idea. So there is no good motive to kill when a quick and easy legal maneuver will accomplish the same effect.”

  “But you didn’t reduce it to zero, why?”

  “Well maybe the writer was just really enraged and couldn’t stop themselves, especially if the work was extremely personal. Autobiographical or just a topic they are so passionate about that they couldn’t control themselves. One other possibility, if they were foolish enough to not have a backup copy.”

  Just then a very pretty blonde approached the table and dropped a note surreptitiously into my lap. After looking carefully around the bar to make sure I wasn’t being watched before unfolding and reading the note.

  I’ll be at your store by eleven to talk about Lachlan

  Lily

  I showed Anais and Amy the note.

  “Ill be at your store by ten thirty.”

  “Why?”

  “So you don’t meet another potential murderer on your own, besides won’t Lucy be there, you want to protect her right. Well if we are both there you won’t have to worry about anything bad happening to Lucy.”

  Amy and I had another beer, but Anais was full after the Lemonade Beer. So after finishing our second beers we were ready to go. I’d gotten another lead. It was a very very productive day. We walked back to the bookstore and after making sure that there was no one in the hiding spot I was recording, I retrieved my phone.

  “The only bad thing about my phone is that I can’t fast forward the video so we were gone two and a half hours, I’ll have to watch the phone now for two and a half hours.”

  “Why don’t you download the video to your laptop and watch it on there. You can download VLC player for free and it plays all of the different formats.”

  “I never did that before, I always just watch the videos on the phone.”

  “I’ll show you how.”

  Amy asked, “are you two going back to the pub tomorrow night?”

  “Yes, come with us, and I’ll play a game with you, I’m sorry they were broken today.”

  “It’s not your fault, Laura, all right I’ll see you here around eight?”

  “Sounds good Amy, see you tomorrow. Did you hear that Anais, around eight o'clock? Not eight o’clock on the dot.”

  “Got it, do you want my help moving the video file or would you rather stare at the phone for the next couple hours.”

  “Yes please help, I don’t want to watch the phone if I can fast forward on the computer.”

  So Anais showed me how to transfer files from my old phone to my old laptop. We downloaded VLC and opened the video we’d copied from the phone and put it in fast forward, a few people passed by but none stopped and more importantly no one went up into the hiding spot.

  “Why aren’t you using the whiteboard I brought over here?”

  “It’s more convenient to use the built in one I have on my computer when it’s just me, but fine, I’ll print the stuff out and we can post on the board.”

  I printed out every picture that I had that pertained to the case and we posted them then we made some notes, theories and clues that we had amassed.

  “I wonder if Jones has more than just my picture on his whiteboard.”

  “Well I must say it was encouraging what Amy said about the chief. If he’s getting involved Eve must really be making some waves.”

  “Yeah just wait until the district attorney reads her outline for her true crime novel.”