Murder Unmentionable by Meg London Read Free Book Online Page A

handkerchief from his back pocket, wrapped it around his hand and reached under the cabinet. He pulled out the walking stick.
    “Do you really think it’s murder?” Arabella’s face turned even paler.
    “Unless our victim tripped on something and hit his head hard enough to cause that kind of damage.” Kenny pointed toward the body.
    “I suppose that is possible.” Arabella looked at Emma eagerly.
    Kenny gave a harsh bark of laughter and Pierre half rose from his dog bed, his upper lip pulled back in a snarl.
    “I think this is our murder weapon right here.” Kenny brandished the walking stick under their noses. “See? There’s blood.”
    Emma recoiled, her stomach doing Olympic-worthy flip-flops.
    “The detectives will have a field day with this. Hopefully we’ll be able to lift some prints if the perp wasn’t smart enough to wear gloves.”
    “It’s going to be covered in prints,” Arabella pointed out dryly. “Mine, specifically. My niece’s, too, since she handled it. And probably half a dozen other people.”
    “Is that so?”
    They all heard the front door open and turned to look in that direction.
    Brian strode in but stopped short when he saw what was going on. “What happened?” He moved swiftly toward Emma and Arabella.
    “And who might you be?” Kenny asked, his pencil poised above his battered notebook.
    “Brian. Brian O’Connell.”
    “As in O’Connell’s Hardware Store?” Kenny gestured toward the front window.
    “Yes.” Brian turned to Emma and Arabella. “Are you ladies okay?”
    They both nodded.
    “What’s going on?” Brian addressed Kenny and Flanagan.
    “I might ask you the same question.” Kenny replied. He moved toward Brian and stood toe-to-toe with him. “What are you doing here? According to these ladies”—he swept a hand in Emma and Arabella’s direction—“the shop is closed.”
    “I’ve been doing the renovations,” Brian said.
    “Were you acquainted with the deceased?” Kenny indicated the body with a nod of his head.
    “I met him once. The other day.”
    Kenny brandished the walking stick, which he still had in his hand. “I take it this is yours?” He looked at Arabella.
    “Yes, that belongs to me.” Arabella responded.
    “It does, does it?”
    Emma bristled at the tone in Kenny’s voice. “What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped.
    “Nothing, nothing,” Kenny said soothingly. “Just trying to confirm ownership, that’s all.”
    “When did you last see this walking stick?” He turned back to Arabella.
    “Yesterday. I was using it to get around after I’d trippedand twisted my ankle. But it was feeling much better, and I didn’t think I needed it anymore.”
    “So what do we have here?” Kenny looked around at them, sounding like Hercule Poirot in one of Agatha Christie’s Golden Age mysteries. “We have a body.” He indicated Guy with a flourish of the walking stick. “We have the murder weapon.” He brandished the stick again. “We have no sign of a forced entry.” He glanced toward the front door. “Ergo, our murderer must be someone with a key.” He looked around his assembled audience. “Who has a key to this place?”
    “Obviously, I do.” Arabella spoke first. “And my niece.”
    “Me, too,” said Brian.
    “Really?” Kenny said, and Emma did not like the tone of his voice.
    “I’m going to be doing the renovations on the shop, so Arabella thought I ought to have a key.”
    “Anyone else?” Kenny asked. “A neighbor, friend, boyfriend…” His voice trailed off as they all began shaking their heads. “No?”
    “Don’t you think we ought to call this in to headquarters now?” Flanagan reached for his walkie-talkie. “Get one of the detectives out here?”
    “All in good time.” Kenny slapped his notebook shut and stuffed it back in his pocket. “This case seems pretty simple to me. Open and shut.” He pointed a finger at Emma. “You got mad at your ex-boyfriend and clonked him over the