Free Phantoms Can Be Murder: Charlie Parker Mystery #13 by Connie Shelton Page A

answer already.
    “I thought about reporting a
break-in when I found that someone had moved all the wools,” she said, “but I
imagined the constable’s reaction. Nothing was missing.”
    True. What crime had really
occurred? Malicious rearrangement?
    “The two incidents with the
teacups . . . well, had someone told me the story I would have said they got
busy and forgot what they’d done, had let time slip away.”
    I nodded slowly, trying to find a
logical answer to this. “Okay, let’s assume someone has come into the shop and
is using these pranks to cover other activities. Has any other merchandise or
money been missing? Have there been any other occasions when something was out
of place?”
    Dolly shook her head more
vigorously with each question I posed.
    I walked over to the shop’s door
and examined it. Not that I’m any kind of expert, but I couldn’t see any marks
on either the lock or the wood, nothing to indicate it had been tampered with.
    “Is there another entrance to the
apartment upstairs or does a person have to come through the shop?”
    She led me to the street and
pointed out a narrow door I’d not previously noticed. The wooden door was
painted a glossy black and there was a mail slot in it. Above the door were
three small window panes. “There are stairs to the upper floor here. But this
door is locked all the time. Archie and I use the inside stairs exclusively.”
    “Do you receive your mail through
this slot?”
    “No. Normally the postman carries
our personal post in with that for the shop. He knows who we are so he hands me
the entire stack—business and personal.”
    I twisted at the knob on the
black door. As Dolly had told me, it was securely locked.
    “May I see the cellar?”
    We went back into the shop and
she took me through the stockroom and opened another door. A flight of stone
steps led downward. She flipped a switch on the wall, illuminating them.
    “I’d better stay with the shop,
but take your time. There’s another switch at the bottom which lights up the
entire cellar. It’s one large room.” She stepped aside to let me pass. “And,
Charlie? Thank you.”
    I reached the bottom of the steps
and stared into the cluttered space, unsure where to begin. Most of the single,
large room was filled with furniture. Presumably, belonging to Archie and Dolly.
Otherwise she would have mentioned that the previous tenant left it. Louisa had
told me that they owned a large house on the outskirts of town but it was now
occupied by renters. They must have needed a place for their excess furniture
and this was it. Boxes were stacked upon dressers; bedding in plastic zip bags
sat on a pair of overstuffed leather chairs. The matching sofa was empty except
for a couple of neatly folded afghans, which might have been overstock from the
shop. One entire wall was hidden by stacks of packing boxes, labeled with
household descriptions like “Library - books,” “Kitchen – spare pots and pans”
and “Dining Room.” Dolly had probably chosen the items she most needed every
day, limiting herself to what the small upstairs apartment could accommodate,
and packed away the remaining things.
    The fact that she hadn’t merely
sold the excess at the time of the move told me that they must have had plans
to eventually move back to the larger digs. No wonder Archie felt the pressure
to get back to work.
    To the left of the wall of boxes
I spotted something out of place. A section of the stone floor had been lifted
and the dirt beneath it looked freshly disturbed, a bit damp. Someone had
obviously been digging there but I saw no tools nearby. I stooped to examine
the spot but there wasn’t a single gold coin or bag of jewels to be found. I
brushed the dirt from my hands. So much for the hope of easy treasure.
    A little farther along the wall
an area about five feet high and four feet wide was made of brick. All the
other walls were limestone or rock. I touched the bricks tentatively,