NYPD Puzzle Read Free

was.
    There was no nameplate on the woman’s desk, which was too bad. Cora recognized her from Cushman’s Bake Shop, but had no idea who she was.
    “Excuse me, Mae,” Harper said, solving half the problem. “You got a minute?”
    Mae put down her pen, folded her hands, straightened in her chair, and looked up at the chief. “Certainly,” she said. The woman had an air of pedantic efficiency about her. She managed to give the impression of being terribly put-upon while cooperating fully.
    Cora wanted to kick her.
    “The problem here,” Harper said, “is we can’t figure out what there is here to steal. Can you think of anything anyone would want?”
    Mae put up her hand. “As I told you, I don’t keep anything valuable in the office.”
    “I wondered if you’d thought of anything.”
    “If I had, I would have told you.”
    “Yes, of course,” Harper said. “There’s no money kept here?”
    “That would be something of value.”
    “There’s no personal items you might leave overnight?”
    Mae explained as to a small child. “No. I don’t keep personal items in the office.”
    “And the night of the break-in. You’re sure you didn’t leave anything out someone might have taken?”
    Mae drew herself up even straighter. She could not have been more rigid had she had a metal rod in her backside, which Cora thought was entirely possible. “I assure you, none of this is my fault.”
    Chief Harper put up his hands in a placating manner. “No one’s accusing you of anything.”
    “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Cora said.
    Mae’s mouth dropped open.
    “If anything’s missing, that would be the responsibility of the person in charge,” Cora said. “I would assume that’s you. Don’t worry. We can help you. When’s the last time you took inventory?”
    “Inventory?”
    “Yeah. Took out your files, checked that everything was logged accurately.”
    “Everything is logged accurately.”
    “Glad to hear it. When’s the last time you checked?”
    Mae blinked.
    “Don’t worry,” Cora said. “Most likely it’s not your fault, it’s the tax assessor.”
    She blinked again.
    “Well?”
    “I’m the tax assessor.”
    “Interesting. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my property tax. I suppose it’s not the time. What sort of records do you keep that someone might want to have access to?”
    “It’s a public office. Everyone has access to the records.”
    “Well, that’s not exactly true, is it?” Cora said. “You don’t have people in here all day pawing through your files. Don’t they have to request the information and you go through your files?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “Well, let’s take a look.”
    “You’re not going through my files.”
    “Why? Is anything wrong with your files?”
    “Absolutely not.”
    “You checked them all? You must have logged a lot of overtime. That’s a lot of files.”
    “I already told Chief Harper.”
    “Now you can tell me.”
    “The questions are the same, no matter who asks them.”
    “Then the answers should be the same. That will make it easy.”
    “Chief Harper is the chief of police.”
    “Yes, he is. Astute of you to notice.”
    The argument might have continued, had Chief Harper not jumped in and managed to herd Cora out the door.
    “Why’d you stop me, Chief? I had her on the ropes.”
    “Yes, you did. And if my object had been to put the town clerk in her place, I would have let you continue. I was hoping to solve a crime.”
    Cora started to flare up, but saw the chief’s eyes twinkling in amusement. She bit off her angry retort, sidespied up at him impishly.
    “Spoilsport.”

 
    Chapter
    4
     
    Cora came out of Cushman’s Bake Shop and bumped into Barney Nathan. As always, the little doctor was wearing his red bow tie. He was impeccably dressed, but his face was drawn, and he looked more harried than usual, even on those occasions when his medical competence was questioned on the witness stand.
    “Hi,