17. A Young Detective's Adventures: Looking for Clues

When I walked into the Chief's office, I saw from the look on his face that he was not going to give me good news.

"You like working here?" he asked without expecting an answer. "Well, you got to learn the rules. We all have rules and maybe here we have more rules than you did in New York. Rules keep us honest, you know what I mean?"

I said I didn't.

"Don't get smart with me. You know what I mean. Our rules keep us from getting in one another's way. You know what I mean."

I still didn't understand his point, but I nodded my head.

"That's good. Now, Rule Number One is we don't bother with the Fitch family. He looked straight into my eyes and I stared back into his. I didn't understand how the rule of avoiding someone would keep us honest. He slowed down his speech and raised his voice to make sure I would understand. "The Fitch family has been good to this town. They built this building we are sitting in and they built the courthouse. They built the school we all send our children to and they have given almost all of the police officers loans to buy homes. So we don't like to bother them unnecessarily. You know what I mean?"

I was beginning to understand. "Of course, Chief. There's no need to bother any citizen unnecessarily."

"Then why in heaven's name were you reading old newspapers about the accidental deaths of the Fitch women?" He stressed accidental to make sure that I knew that there was no doubt about the cause of the deaths. I wondered how he knew I had been reading the old clippings. He answered my unvoiced question."

"My brother told me you have been in twice asking for stories on the Fitches. You want to tell me why?"

I replied that a new person in town must be familiar with all the major happenings of the town that formed the town's history.

"I'll tell you all you need to know. And what you need to know is that the deaths were accidental. The first Mrs. Fitch was flying her own small plane which got lost and was never found again. The second woman died of food poisoning."

"What kind of food poisoning?"

"FOOD! FOOD! FOOD poisoning. What more do you need to know?"

Nothing. I knew the third and last Mrs. Fitch had fallen off a cliff while walking with her stepdaughter. There didn't seem to be any pattern to the deaths except that they all happened to wives of Mr. Fitch.

"Now, if I hear you're messing around in the Fitches' business again, you'll be on the first bus back to that city you came from."

At that moment the intercom buzzed and the Chief answered it. "Yeah? Sure, put him on. Good morning, Mr. Fitch ... How are you this morning? Well, we couldn't be better down here ... nothing more serious than a few parking violations ... Yes, she was down here, but you know how old people get at times ... yes, I didn't pay much attention to her story, you know."

The Chief turned to me with a look of astonishment on his face. "Well, if you want, but I don't really see the need. Yes, sir. I'll be glad to help you settle the issue once and for all. I'll send up Rodriquez to check on it immediately ... Who, sir? Why, sir? But he's just new, sir. He doesn't know anything about the town, sir. Oh, I see. OK, sir. Yes, he's right here, if you would like to talk to him."

The Chief put his hand over the receiver and said, "It's Fitch; he wants you to come up and investigate the death of his last wife."

Fitch seemed very concerned when I talked to him on the phone. He said he had heard Mrs. Munsing, his cook, was worried that there was some mystery connected with the death of his wife, and he would like the air cleared once and for all. He thought I would be a good one to be put on the case, because I would bring a fresh approach to the problem. I think what he wanted to say was that he didn't trust any of these small-town cops to do an efficient job. But I thanked him for his confidence and told him I would be out to his house soon.

The Fitch house was thirty miles outside of Flagstaff. It was set back into the mountains with a steep, narrow road as the only access to the property. The Chief said that all the police cars had been assigned to senior officers, so I would have to take a bus. The bus turned off the main road before we reached the road to the Fitch home, so I had to walk the last two miles. The air was cool in the mountains, unlike the still heat of the city. But I was hot from the walk, and I stopped at the gate to the private road leading up to the Fitch home. I sat on a rock and surveyed the peaceful surroundings and knew that the Fitch cook must be wrong. This place was too quiet, too peaceful, to be the site of a murder, let alone three murders. On the other hand, the motive is classic: husband marries rich women, kills them and inherits their fortunes. But that would be too obvious. Nothing like that happens now in the twentieth century.

I started toward the house but stopped when I heard a noise behind me. I turned around and saw a man dressed in a straw hat and a long cape like those worn by the Navaho shepherds in the region. He also had a rifle in his left hand.

"State your business, stranger."

"I'm with the police. I ... "

"Police don't walk; they drive," he said raising the rifle level with his shoulder. "Doesn't seem right you being on this land. Looking at things you ain't supposed to be seeing."

"I'm here at the invitation of Mr. Fitch. He called the police station and asked someone to come up."

"He didn't tell me nothing about it."

"Couldn't we just go up to the main house and ask if Mr. Fitch is expecting me?"

"Visitors come on Sunday ... Today ain't but Thursday. I don't like changes. It's not good." He motioned for me to precede him up the path.

By the time we reached the porch of the house, the whole household had assembled. They were obviously curious about who was being led to their house at gunpoint.

"Darjo, is that any way to treat a guest?" said an older man with a face that tried to look friendly and welcoming, but somehow did not succeed.

"He didn't come in a car," replied Darjo as if that was a suitable reason to question someone at gunpoint.

"My apologies again for your inhospitable welcome. We are very glad you were able to come on such short notice. I presume you will be able to spend the evening with us here. That might facilitate your investigation. Let me introduce you to the household. This Ms. Ryan, my personal secretary; she has been with the family for 15 years ever since my first wife was killed in the airplane accident. But we will talk of that later. Mrs. Munsing, please show our guest to his room." He took me by the elbow and led me toward this woman, white with fear. It was the same woman who had dropped her groceries in front of my house last week.

In his businesslike manner Mr. Fitch had seen to everything, and I was led away to my room.

(to be continued)

From The Great Preposition Mystery, ed., Lin Lougheed,

Washington, D.C., 1981.