Pushing Up Daisies

CHAPTER 17

“Did you know that Good and Plenty candy is the oldest branded candy in the United States?”

“I did not know that.”

“Yup. The Quaker City Confectionery Company in Philadelphia started making them in 1893.”

I closed the door of the Haviland police substation behind me and strolled over to Mike O’Malley’s desk.

“Fascinating,” he said. He motioned for me to sit down, but I was already settling in.

“And Milk Duds were originally supposed to be perfectly round… but they kept coming out lumpy-duds, get it?”

“Before you move on to Whoppers and Goobers, want to tell me what this is about?”

“Just like a man. No sense of… buildup, anticipation. Never mind.”

I fished around in my backpack and pulled out my candy research papers; I enjoyed spreading them out and messing up his unnaturally tidy desk.

“Cadbury’s has been around since the 1820s, but didn’t merge with Schweppes until 1969. If we can get a closer look at the package that was in the box with the baby we might have a better idea when the body was buried. And we wouldn’t need anyone’s approval- no medical examiner, no missing relatives-just another look- see at something we’ve already seen, right?”

He stared at me blankly.

“Okay. It’s not carbon dating but it’s a clue. You don’t seem to have many of those. If the sisters are ruled out because of the candy wrapper, maybe we can make a case for DNA testing of the body.”

“Let’s see, where did I put it?” He patted his pockets, opened his pencil drawer, then pretended to look in the garbage for the candy wrapper. “For someone who doesn’t want to get involved, you sure do stick your nose in a lot.”

“I’ve printed out a whole list of milestones in the history of Cadbury’s Chocolates-Dairy Milk Bars were introduced in 1905, Roses in 1938…”

He held up his hands to silence me. “It’s good. Very clever, really, but it’s unlikely to rule them out completely,” he added more thoughtfully, “unless-”

“Unless what? What do we do next?” I interrupted.

“We do nothing. I’ll make a few phone calls. I’m not even sure where the wrapper is. It may still be in New Haven.”

“Why New Haven?”

“Chain of custody. I think the Forensic Science Center still has everything. I’ll look into it.”

He seemed ready to send me on my way.

“How long do you think it will take?”

“Sweet Jesus, you’re impatient. This isn’t the big city, you know.”

“My point entirely. Have you found any other bodies around here lately?”

He picked up the phone and hit a button.

“It’s Mom. I’ve got Paula Holliday here. The woman who found the body? She’s got a notion related to the Peacock matter. Okay if I put you on speakerphone?”

I was annoyed by his use of the word notion. He pressed the mouthpiece of the phone to his chest.

“I’m on with Marian Lyle. I took some of the pictures at the crime scene, but she took the ones that came out.”

I told Marian my Cadbury’s theory. I couldn’t tell if her silence meant she was considering my suggestion or covering the phone and laughing her ass off.

“All the pictures I took are on a disk,” she said finally. “I can send them to your computer, Mike, but I don’t recall spending much time on the candy wrapper other than to record its existence. I was more interested in the necklace the baby was wearing. Took a lot of shots of that. Thought it might help with the ID.”

“And I’ve been kicking myself for not having taken a closer look at that medal,” I added.

“It was something in Spanish; I couldn’t quite make it out,” she said.

“Send everything here,” Mike said. “My home computer, too.” He hung up.

“So now that we’re, sort of, partners, are you going to tell me what happened to Dorothy’s sister?”

“Number one, we are not partners. Number two, Dorothy Peacock’s sister died four years ago. Check Morning Glory Cemetery if you don’t believe me.”

“Right. And Jimmy Hoffa is alive and well and in the witness protection program.” I got up to leave, taking my research with me.

“Where’s the other Hardy girl?” Mike asked.

“Lucy? Home. Working. Like I should be, instead of wasting my time here.”

“If anything comes up, I’ll call you.”

“Sure you will. Thanks a lot, Sergeant,” I said, silently vowing not to share anything else with that guy until I could rub his nose in it.