Intrepid Sleuth

By Maria Johs

Detective Sergeant Nicholsons aunt gets involved in the investigation of a series of burglaries that have plagued Peartree for some time. But when a homeowner is murdered during a burglary, she becomes embroiled in a vast tangle of deceit and betrayal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481711876

Maria Johs

Maria Johs was born and raised in Germany. She received a Bachelor of Arts degree in Psychology from California State University, Fullerton. She now lives in Colorado.

Book preview

Intrepid

Sleuth

Maria Johs

US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.ai

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

© 2013 by Maria Johs. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/30/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1184-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1187-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013901683

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

The Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

The Author

Maria Johs was born and raised in Germany. She received a Bachelor of Arts degree in Psychology from California State University, Fullerton. She now lives in Colorado.

1.jpg

Chapter 1

Edna Carson lay on her long chair and listlessly looked at the book she was holding in her hands. Then she tossed it aside and, after rising to her feet, started to walk up and down the terrace.

After the tragic death of her husband a year before, after the painful weeks and months when she had to come to grips with his loss, she no longer enjoyed lounging around on the terrace, reading books. Now she had to move forward and forge a new chapter in her life. It was what Jack would have wanted. It was what she wanted, but she didn’t quite know where to begin.

She had just joined a cycling club, which met once a week. She and eight other people would ride their bikes to some destination in the country, have lunch, and then return home via a different route. It promised to be a lot of fun, and she looked forward to it. But being occupied one day a week was hardly enough to pull her out of the doldrums.

Edna was a slender woman in her midforties. She had short light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Her face, which scarcely had a wrinkle, suggested that she must have been very pretty in her youth.

Continuing her restless pacing, she considered a number of things she could do to keep busy. It included doing volunteer work. She knew the hospital needed volunteers, and though she couldn’t picture herself taking care of sick people, she could ask for a job at the front desk, answering the phone or something else that would not involve contact with sick patients.

That’s it, she thought. That’s what I’ll do. And if the hospital doesn’t need volunteers, I’ll call the courthouse. They’re always looking for witness support volunteers.

She sat down and thought about becoming a productive member of society. At last her useless moping around the house would come to an end. A look of contentedness appeared on her face, and a faint smile trembled on her lips. When her doorbell rang, she rose quickly and with a spring in her step walked to the door.

Hello, Tommy, she said, smiling. How good of you to take time from your busy day to visit your aunt. Do you have time for a cup of tea?

I was hoping you’d offer me a cup of your famous tea, he replied.

She laughed. She knew Detective Sergeant Nicholson, her favorite nephew, hadn’t come to have tea with her. Although he did stop by now and then to say hello, he rarely had time for tea. She had a feeling this visit had a purpose relating to his work.

She led the way into the kitchen, and Nicholson sat down at the table.

Did you come to bring me up-to-date on the crime of the day? she asked while she put on the kettle. I know you didn’t come just to have tea with me.

He gave her a smiling look.

It pains me to think that I’m that transparent, Aunt Edna, he said. But you’re right. It is the crime of the day, as you call it, that has brought me here today. Actually, it is more than one crime, which we haven’t been able to solve. I don’t know if you’ve read about it. Peartree has had a rash of burglaries lately.

Edna put a steaming mug of tea in front of him and a plate of scones.

These look yummy, he said. Did you make these?

No. I went past the bakery this morning, and as it occasionally happens, the smell of the place drew me in. Once I was inside, I was embarrassed because I couldn’t make up my mind about what to buy. To tell you the truth, I hadn’t planned on buying anything. But thinking that I couldn’t very well leave empty-handed, I bought a dozen scones.

I’m glad you did. They’re delicious.

Getting back to the burglaries, said Edna, how many have there been?

Six in three months. The latest was last night.

And the police have no idea who the perpetrator is?

None whatsoever, he said after a pause. All we know is that more than one person is involved in these break-ins. They seem to be well organized and good at what they’re doing. It seems that the high price of gold and silver has produced this particular group of thieves, for that’s all they take.

Do you mean coins?

Coins and anything else that’s made of gold or silver. The coins are sold on the open market, and the silver services and tableware are melted down and sold in bulk. At least that’s what we think they’re doing because none of the stolen items have turned up in pawn shops or anywhere else.

I’m surprised that no one has gotten killed during these robberies, said Edna. How do the thieves manage to get in and out of the house without being confronted by an angry homeowner holding a gun?

He turned away with a shrug of his shoulders.

Strangely enough, or perhaps not strangely at all, they haven’t been confronted by anyone, which I don’t mind telling you has been a blessing in disguise. The last thing we need is a murder, he said. But it’s only a matter of time before they get their signals crossed and someone gets killed during one of these robberies.

What do you mean?

The thieves know when the homeowners are not at home. The only way they can be spot-on about not finding anyone at home is they’re either canvassing the neighborhood very well or someone who has access to people’s travel plans is giving them the information.

They sat in uneasy silence for a while.

So in your desperation you’ve come to your poor old aunt for help, said Edna at last.

You’re neither poor nor old.

And your boss approves of it?

He asked me to tell you that he would appreciate your help.

No he didn’t. He doesn’t talk like that when the two of you are alone. Tell me exactly what the detective chief inspector said.

He said, ‘I’m blowed if I know how to deal with these burglaries. It’s going to cost both of us our jobs if we don’t put a stop to them. I’m not too proud to ask your aunt for help. At this point I would ask your grandmother if you had one.’

Edna laughed. Has it occurred to either of you that I haven’t the faintest idea how to go about catching crooks who have eluded you for three months?

Don’t be absurd, he replied. "We’re not asking you to catch them. All we’re asking you to do is to listen to what people on the street, in coffee shops, and at your Ladies Circle are saying about the burglaries. There they say things they wouldn’t dream of telling the police. All you have to do is encourage them to talk about who they think is behind