The Case of the Contaminated
Coffee
#98 Lipstick
-- by Stephanie
Disclaimer: As always, this
is just for fun! I do not own the characters of Jessica Fletcher or
George Sutherland. And like everyone else who is participating in this
Writer’s Challenge, my intent is not to infringe on anyone’s copyright, nor is
it to make any money.
George closed the file in front of him and rubbed
his eyes wearily. This case is impossible, he thought as he pushed his
chair back away from the desk and stood up to stretch. Fresh air, that’s
what I need, he decided before retrieving his coat and descending the stairs.
The guests staying at
When he returned, he was chilled nearly to the bone
and had no clearer idea of who had murdered Kathryn Fisher. After closing
and securing the door, he slipped into Mrs. Gower’s kitchen and brewed a hot,
soothing cup of Earl Grey. When he returned to his private suite, he
rekindled the fire and settled into a comfortable leather chair. The air
outside had cleared his head but the damp castle now felt rather nippy.
As he propped his feet up on the ottoman, the chiming of the mantle clock
distracted him momentarily from thinking about the case.
It was Friday night, six o’clock Cobot
Cove time, and that meant that Jessica and Seth were just sitting down to
dinner – probably a new seafood recipe – after which they would likely indulge
in a spirited game of chess.
A woman’s point of view, that’s what
I need, George decided. He stood and walked to the fireplace, where
Jessica’s photograph graced the mantle and then began to pace back and forth in
front of the fire, debating whether or not to call and interrupt her evening.
He knew how little time she and Seth had to enjoy each other’s company
since she had taken her apartment in
If anyone can find a logical
solution to a seemingly unsolvable case, it’s Jessica, George thought as he
paused next to the phone, stopping and tapping his fingers against the
receiver.
But it’s Friday night and you know
she has plans with Seth.
He resumed pacing, stopping in front
of the fireplace and looking at her photo once again. She’d cringe at the
fact that he had chosen that particular picture of her to frame, but George
preferred candid photos – beautiful, sparkling blue eyes and blonde hair topped
by a fishing hat.
She would want to help, he reasoned.
She would want to see this case solved just as much as you do.
George reached for the telephone
once again and was startled when it began to ring, the receiver jumping
slightly out of its cradle as it did.
“Sutherland here,” George answered,
expecting the call to be from the forensics lab at New Scotland Yard.
“George, it’s
Jessica. I hope I’m not calling too late.”
The sound of her voice brought a
smile to his face. “Of course not, Jessica, as a matter of fact, I was
just thinking about ringing you.”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked,
although she already knew the answer.
George sat down at his desk and
looked at the manila file. “Well, ah … I … ah … thought that it could
wait a day or two. Now, dear lady,” he said, quickly changing the topic,
“to what do I owe the pleasure of your call.”
Jessica retrieved a legal pad
covered with handwritten notes from the table and flipped back several pages
before beginning. “I was hoping to get your opinion about an idea I have
for a new book.”
George hesitated, knowing how
protective Jessica was of any ‘work in progress.’ She had nearly smashed
his fingers in her laptop the one and only time he had ever tried to read over
her shoulder. “Jessica, I’m flattered, but I don’t think that I’m the
best person to ask.”
“Nonsense, you’re the perfect person
to ask,” she insisted. “Now, here’s what I had in mind ... set in
Edinburgh … the protagonist is a young, Scottish policeman, fresh out of the
academy ...”
“Well, Jess,” George began, pausing
as though further considering the scenario, “if you’re truly committed to the
idea, you’re going to need to spend some quality time in Edinburgh…and you
should be accompanied by someone who knows the city and the police department
inside and out.”
Jessica suppressed a laugh.
“And how long would I need to be there to complete my research?”
“Two weeks,” he answered without
hesitation.
“Two weeks?” Jessica repeated.
She had planned for a week at most.
“Aye.”
“And who would you suggest for a
guide?” she teased. “Maybe a former colleague, someone you worked with
when you were on the force there?”
“Okay, lassie,” George scolded
gently, “enough fun and games. When are you coming to visit?” It had been
months…far too many months since they had last seen each other. And it
was George’s fault. He had been the one who couldn’t get away for more
than a day or two.
“Well, I have a meeting with my
publisher on March 1st, so the sooner the better.”
“You’re serious!”
“Yes, George, I’m serious.”
“Well, in that case, I guess I’d
better put in for a couple of weeks of leave … immediately.”
“Are you sure?” Jessica asked
hopefully. She missed him as well and was concerned that he had been
working too hard as of late.
“Aye,” George answered despite the
case file sitting before him. He flipped open the cover of the folder.
“I’ve just one more case that I’d like to wrap up personally before
then.”
“I wish I could help,” Jessica
offered.
“Actually, Jessica, that’s why I was
going to ring you. I was thinking that there
might be something that I overlooked, something that you might pick up on.”
“Anything I can do to help you clear
your desk,” Jessica offered agreeably. She took a sip of tea and settled
in to listen.
George was relieved. “Okay,
we’ll start with the facts. The deceased is a 35 year old secretary, a
Mrs. Kathryn Fisher. Mrs. Fisher collapsed in her office shortly after
sharing an early morning cup of coffee with her co-workers two weeks ago.
The pathologist alerted The Yard when he determined the cause of death to
be poison.”
Jessica listened intently on the
other end of the line.
“According to her co-workers, Mrs.
Fisher was the one who prepared the coffee. She poured her own cup and it
never left her hand until she tossed it in the trash bin.”
“Did she eat anything for
breakfast?”
“Actually, according to both her
husband and co-workers, she was in the habit of not eating breakfast. Mr.
Fisher indicated that his wife did not vary from her usual routine that
morning. She awoke at six o’clock, showered, fixed her hair and make-up,
dressed, and left for work.”
George paused for a sip of Earl
Grey. “The forensics came back negative on the coffee. The last
thing that she ingested was fish and wild rice the previous evening.
There was no evidence of poison there either.”
“What do you know about the poison?”
Jessica queried.
“It was relatively fast acting.
It was a fairly large dose and she was a petite woman. Dr. Williams
hasn’t been able to narrow the window down very much. She could have
ingested it anywhere from a few minutes before she collapsed to a couple of
hours.”
Jessica considered the facts
logically. “There are only two possibilities then,” she began, thinking
aloud. “Mrs. Fisher was either poisoned at her office when she drank her
cup of coffee or she ingested something else that morning – but forensics ruled
out the coffee and verified that she hadn’t eaten anything else since the
previous evening.”
“Exactly,” George agreed.
“The only solution is that she
ingested something else that was poisoned,” Jessica reasoned logically.
“But, Jessica …” George began.
“Let me think this through,” she
said, interrupting him. “What is the first thing that you do every
morning?”
It had been a rhetorical question,
but George answered anyway.
“I open my eyes and wish you were
lying next to me, but that’s probably not what you meant.”
“What next?” Jessica asked, feigning
impatience, although she appreciated the sentiment.
“I scan the Times while I make a cup
of coffee. After that, I shower, shave, dress, and drive to work.”
“You forgot something,” Jessica said
excitedly. “You brush your teeth. Toothpaste, George! The
poison must have been in her toothpaste!”
“Sorry, Jess, I forgot to mention
that. The toothpaste and toothbrush were ruled out as well. There
was no trace of poison in the office or in her home.”
“Okay, then,” Jessica said
determinedly as she wrapped the telephone cord around her finger. What is
my morning routine – a woman’s routine?
“George, there isn’t a single woman working on this
case, is there?”
“Not that I recall,” he answered as
he moved to the bed and sat down. “Why?”
“Well, there should be. Do you
have a list of the personal items that may have been found in her desk … or
better yet, her purse?”
George paged through the file and
removed a one page inventory of Kathryn Fisher’s purse. “Do you want the
whole list? It’s quite extensive,” he added, wondering how or why anyone
would choose to carry around so many unnecessary items.
“No. Did she have lipstick in
her purse? No – lip gloss! It would have to have been lip gloss.”
George adjusted his reading glasses
and scanned the list. At the bottom of the list, he found “Rimmel lip gloss.”
“George? Is it there?”
“Aye, Jess,” he said calmly.
“It’s here. Would you mind terribly if I called you back? I
need to ring The Yard.”
Half an hour later, Jessica’s
telephone rang. “Are the lab techs at Scotland Yard scrambling?”
“Aye,” George replied. He was
obviously pleased with Jessica’s deduction.
“You know, George, I could be
wrong.”
“I doubt that very much, Jessica.
They found two sets of prints on the lip gloss – one is the victim’s and
the other as of right now is unknown. I’m sure they’ll have it pinned
down by morning. And now that I’m most likely in your debt, how am I
going to repay you?” he asked, moving on to more pleasant topics.
Jessica laughed. “I’ll start a
list.”
“And what will the first item on
your list be?”
“Oh, that’s easy. You’ll join
me in
“All work and no play, I suppose?”
Jessica smiled to herself.
“Well, it has been a couple of years since we last visited
“Aye, Jessie, it has. Name the
date and I’ll be there.”
“As soon as you
wrap up this case.”
“One week then,” George
decided as he reclined on the bed.
“You know, George, something just
occurred to me.”
“Mmmmhmmm.”
“I’ve seen nearly every room in
Sutherland Caste, but I’ve never seen your room.”
Now, George smiled. “Believe
me, Jess, I’m well aware of that fact and I assure you I will remedy it as soon
as humanly possible.”