A Little Yuletide Murder by Jessica Fletcher Read Free Book Online

away from the farm because he didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t, Mrs. Fletcher, I can swear to that.”
    I didn’t know how she could be so certain, but decided that was something for Mort Metzger to examine.
    “Mary, you say Jake won’t allow anyone to take him away from the farm. Do you mean he won’t subject himself to questioning by Sheriff Metzger?”
    Now she showed her first sign of animation. “Mrs. Fletcher, Jake’s back at the house, got the door locked. He won’t talk to anyone, not me, not Dennis. All he says over and over through the door is that nobody’s going to take him away.”
    “Doesn’t he realize that if he didn’t kill Rory, he has nothing to fear from Sheriff Metzger or anyone else?” I asked. “All the sheriff would want to do is ask him some questions. Maybe he has an alibi, someone who can say he wasn’t anywhere near Rory’s farm this morning. But if he refuses to cooperate, he’ll end up in terrible trouble that he doesn’t deserve.”
    “Exactly, Mrs. Fletcher. That’s the big trouble I was talking about. I can’t talk sense to him. I tried. Had Dennis try, too, but he runs us off his part of the farm. I don’t know what to do. I surely don’t.”
    I thought for a moment before saying, “My only suggestion would be to go to Sheriff Metzger, tell him the situation, and see what he suggests.”
    She slowly shook her head. “Jake won’t talk to the sheriff. But maybe he’d talk to you.”
    “Me? Why me? I don’t have any relationship with your husband.”
    “Jake read all about how you saved Jed and Alicia Richardson over in London. Read it in the paper and saw it on TV. He was real impressed. Said you were a brave and decent woman.”
    I had to stop and think for a moment to sort out what she’d said.
    A year or so ago I’d traveled to England and Scotland with a contingent of friends from Cabot Cove. The trip had been arranged by my dear friend, George Sutherland, a chief inspector with Scotland Yard in London, whose family had come from Wick, Scotland. He still owns the family mansion there, used most of the year as a hotel for tourists. He insisted I visit his homestead. When I told him I was making the trip with a number of friends, he said that wasn’t a problem because he would simply close the hotel for the week we were there and accommodate everyone.
    We started the trip in London, where I had a few days’ business to attend to before heading north. While in London, Jed Richardson, who owns Jed’s Flying Service, a two-plane airline operating out of Cabot Cove, and his new wife, Alicia, were abducted by a madman and held hostage in the infamous Tower of London. I ended up negotiating their release. I hadn’t planned on doing that, nor did I aspire to the task. It just seemed to evolve into that situation. The London press played it up big, and it eventually found considerable space in American newspapers.
    “Mary,” I said, “that was a very unique circumstance. I’m not a negotiator and don’t pretend to be. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to be in that role. I don’t think I would have any influence on your husband.”
    Her expression seemed to soften as she said, “I know I’m imposing, Mrs. Fletcher.”
    “Jessica.”
    “Jessica. I’m not the sort of person who imposes on other people. I think you know that. I guess because you’re the sort of woman who’s always ready to help others in trouble, I figured you’d help out in this situation. I guess I was wrong.” She stood.
    I, too, stood. “Mary,” I said, “of course I want to help you and Jake. As a matter of fact, if there is the sort of trouble you’re indicating, I would want to do anything in my power to head it off. But I can’t do it unilaterally. I can’t do this alone. It would be taking the law into my own hands, something I am firmly opposed to. If you really think I could be instrumental in convincing Jake to cooperate in the investigation, I’ll be happy to