Edgar Sullivan's Christmas Carol: A Marie Jenner Mystery

By E.C. Bell

Edgar Sullivan has just sacked his employee, Bob Crabtree, for embezzlement and wants Marie Jenner and James Lavall to get his money back. 

 

While at their office, he receives a strange text, telling him to expect a visit from three ghosts. That's strange enough, but even weirder: the text is from his deceased business partner.

 

Marie sees the mysterious message and offers to clear up Edgar's ghost problem for free, a gesture of goodwill for the Christmas season. But this is a problem Edgar might have to solve alone . . .

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tyche Books
• Release date: Dec 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393848455

Book preview

Marie Jenner Mystery:

Edgar Sullivan’s Christmas Carol

STAVE 1: A text from Charlie’s ghost

It was December 22nd, and it was snowing, and I hated it.

I should have been happy to see the snow because it meant more work for Edwards Towing, which I owned. But I was driving my brand new Audi A4 in downtown Edmonton, trying to get to the Jimmy Lavall Detective Agency, and I was afraid that one of the fools out getting their last minute Christmas shopping done would hit it.

People are bad at driving, just like they’re bad at everything, I muttered, as I maneuvered through the snow choked streets.

I should have called this Jimmy Lavall person, but the rage I felt about Bob Crabtree—my employee—stealing from me and my business couldn’t be contained in a simple phone call. I wanted to look the private investigator in the eye, so he’d know just how important this case was to me.

Bob can’t get away with this, I muttered, as I slewed around a corner. I barely missed four fools walking across the crosswalk, their arms loaded with bags and boxes. One of them gave me the finger, and I gave it back.

Get off the roads, you idiots, I spat. Can’t you see it’s snowing?

*

I finally found the clapped-out three-storey building on 97th Street that held the Jimmy Lavall Detective agency. It looked like hell, and I thought about leaving. But then I remembered why I’d driven all that way in that weather, and three nights before Christmas, to boot.

This Jimmy Lavall guy will be hungry enough that he’ll take the job, thankfully, I muttered as I walked up the flight of stairs to the second floor. And he’ll get it done on my timeline, too.

I walked up the ramshackle stairs to the door with the frosted glass insert, Jimmy Lavall Detective Agency etched on it. I rolled my eyes. Looks like the beginning of a bad movie, I muttered, but pushed the door open anyhow. I’d run out of time.

I walked into white trash Christmas. Red and green dollar store garlands were draped everywhere. A crooked Christmas tree that looked like it had probably come from the same dollar store stood in the corner, haphazardly covered in coloured lights and plastic decorations. A dog bed was stuffed under the tree, and a little black and white dog glared at me from the bed, but did not move.

The tree with the dog was next to a tiny receptionist desk, where a dark-haired woman sat with her back to me, feet up on the desk and phone to her ear.

We’re almost ready here, Sylvia, she said into the receiver. You have to promise me you’re coming tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.

She’s going to come to the party, isn’t she? a man’s voice called from somewhere behind the young woman.

The dark-haired woman clapped her hand over the receiver. I hope so, she said. She’s supposed to be bringing the food. Well, some of it, anyhow.

I shut the door to the office hard, just to get her attention. As the glass in the door chimed, she blinked, and then quickly slammed her feet to the floor. She whispered, I’ll call you back, before hanging up the receiver and smiling at me.

Sorry about that, she said. Just getting our Christmas party all sorted. You know how it is.

I didn’t speak, and her smile faded. How can I help you? she finally asked.

I need to hire this Jimmy Lavall person, I said, jerking