Alex Harris 00 - Armed

I suddenly realized that while I had one for Andy, I had nothing for Ruth. I hadn’t even questioned where Ruth was at the time of the murder. Another mental banging of my head. This detecting stuff was harder than it looked.
    Jerry Gagliano’s name was the next one I wrote and it included a motive next to it—jilted lover. Probably not an accurate description but I strongly suspected Jerry felt like a jilted lover. At least Ruth had implied that. Ruth again. I really needed to speak to the woman.
    Emmanuelle’s motive seemed a bit trickier. Pondering exactly how to word it, I finally wrote, Mrs. Scott uncovers truth . Exactly what that truth amounted to, I had no idea but in due time I would be able to amend the wording. Did I mention I’m an optimist?
    Something caught my attention and I looked up and rolled my eyes. “Oh, you again,” I said to Detective Van der Burg.
    “We keep running into each other.”
    “Well, don’t let me stop you.” I took another bite of my sandwich and squinted at him hoping to achieve a menacing look.
    “What’s that you’re working on?” He twisted his head to get a better look at my list. “Still trying to thwart the crime?”
    “It’s nothing. Just some thoughts.” I covered the meager list with my arm.
    Detective Van der Burg let out an exasperated sigh.
    “Hey! Don’t start with me,” I snapped. “I’ve had a busy day and I’m tired. The police suspect me of killing a woman I hardly knew. They’ve also got a family friend of mine at the top of their list. I keep adding suspects to my list instead of eliminating them. Everyone is lying about something, my business is in crisis, my grandmother can’t play bingo at her church because she cheats, and my grandfather is an uncircumcised exhibitionist!” I paused and took a deep breath. “The last thing I need is you coming in here and sighing.”
    “Your grandfather is an uncircumcised exhibitionist?”
    I balled up the paper bag my sandwich came in and threw it at him. “Get out!”
    Detective Van der Burg flashed a smile and despite my very agitated state, I found it extremely sexy.
    “See you around.” He turned and walked out the door.
    “Wait!” I jumped up and ran around the desk, smacking right into him.
    He put his hands on my arms in an attempt to steady me. “You need to make up your mind. Do you want me to get out or stay?”
    “I, uh, I have something for you.” I disengaged myself from his grip and went behind the desk where I would be safe and picked up the pad I had pilfered from Mrs. Scott’s kitchen. “I found this on Mrs. Scott’s kitchen table.”
    “You what?” The detective’s face turned a nice shade of rose.
    “I found it in her kitchen. I checked for her mail so Mr. Poupée could pay her bills and I found it.” I handed it over to him.
    “It’s a grocery list.”
    I smirked. I couldn’t resist. “Yes it is. With some doodling on it.” I folded my arms while Detective Van der Burg turned the pad a few degrees to get a better look. I gave him a couple of seconds to study it and then I couldn’t stand it any longer. “She wrote something in shorthand. Right here.” I walked around the desk and pointed. “It says, could it be MS .” I waited for that to sink in.
    “She had MS?”
    “I don’t know. It looks like she at least thought she might.”
    “So that’s why she wanted to speak with Mr. Poupée in private.”
    He looked so pleased with himself having figured this all out, that I hated to burst his bubble.
    “That’s what I thought at first, but I still think something here bothered her.” I told him about my conversation with Monica, a lot of which he already knew, having discovered her fingerprints on the printout. I had to give him credit for that one, but then he had a whole crime lab at his disposal.
    “I think I’ll take this and have our own expert tell us what it says.” He looked up and saw me roll my eyes. “Not that I don’t trust you, but how do I know you didn’t fake this to try to throw suspicion off yourself? I still can’t figure out why you didn’t see that shovel.”
    I picked up a sheet of paper from the desk, balled it up and threw it at him. He walked out and a second later I heard him ask Ruth if Joanne returned from lunch.
    I waited until I heard him leave the building and then went out to the lobby where Ruth sat alone at the reception desk, alphabetizing a stack of papers. She looked cheerful today, dressed in black