Her cane!

The thought that I had not seen Mabel’s cane in the bathroom when Maggie and I had discovered her lifeless body perched upon the commode struck me like a lightening bolt. Mabel never went anywhere without her cane. I had to get another look at the bathroom before the scene was overrun by forensics.

“Gee!” I called out reflectively, as if to break my own silence.

Only my retired sled dog, Maggie, and I knew I had commanded her to run to the right. She followed my command without hesitation and sprinted off making a right at the hall, headed toward the bathroom.

“Maggie!” I exclaimed authoritatively, doing my best to feign surprised dog owner, as I jumped to my feet and took off after my ‘errant’ dog. I met up with Maggie just outside the bathroom door, took hold of her collar, and rebuked her noisily for her ‘bad behavior’ as I surveyed the scene- meticulously taking it all in. I had been right. The cane was not there.

“Miss Garret?” Detective Mathers broke the silence from directly behind me, giving both Maggie and I a start, as neither of us had heard him enter the hall. I, because I was intent on memorizing every last detail of the crime scene, and Maggie because she was still trying to figure out why I had corrected her so boisterously for following a direct command.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long night. For both of us.” I stammered feigning a momentary fluster as I guided Maggie with a firm hand on her collar, back into the living room, plopped myself down on Mabel’s overstuffed divan, and let out a huge bewildering sigh.

“Sit tight. Let me see if I can’t rustle you up a glass of water.” The detective offered obligingly as he made his way toward the kitchen, giving me the moment I needed to collect my thoughts.

I leaned in and whispered “Good girl!” into Maggie’s ear as I pieced together the evidence, or lack thereof, I had gleaned from my last look at the scene.

Mabel’s cane was no where to be seen, therefore she had not entered the bathroom of her own volition. Thus, the wearer of the ruggedly soled work boots that I had seen imprinted in the hall carpet, was most likely a man, as Mabel would have had to have been carried into the bathroom and placed in her final resting place atop the pink porcelain commode.

Her having been carried into the bathroom would also explain the fact that none of Mabel’s clothing, not even her under garments lay discarded about the bathroom as they normally would if someone was preparing to take a bath.

Somehow Mabel never struck me as the kind of person that would wander around fully nude, even if it was only from the bedroom to the bathroom.

I was just shaking off the disturbing visual that thought had evoked when Detective Mathers reappeared from the kitchen carrying not only a rose colored tumbler of water for me, but a pink ceramic bowl of water for Maggie as well.

This is a continuing saga, and can be read in it’s entirety by following the Maggie’s Story category link.