Read Online A Deadly Snow Fall by Cynthia Gallant-Simpson - Free Book Online

who’d had the audacity
to demand that I find his murderer.
    I sat quietly while Daphne read it. I watched
the expressions on her face change like badly timed traffic
lights.
    “You have got to be kidding. Wowzer.
Why?”
    “My question exactly. Why me? I just don’t
need this. I have a nice life here and I don’t need some old coot
interfering. Probably a big joke. Black humor.”
    “But, come on, Liz. Aren’t you salivating to
read that enigmatic manuscript?”
    “Daphne, I doubt that anything in that man’s
writing is worth reading. In fact, I suspect it is more like a list
of complaints. Probably an inventory of every slight, every insult,
ever rebuff the man ever encountered from the villagers. Not worth
the paper it’s written on.”
    “But, Edward Granger. What if the old guy had
hung around with him? Maybe even partook in a few spicy scandals
with the Granger gang from New York who came to stay. You cannot
discount that the writing might be worth reading. Granger was a
paragon in his time. The man inspired an entire movement in art
that still shows up in local galleries. His subjects were
so…angular.”
    “Angular?”
    “I mean, rooflines and shingles and the
general architectural lines of nineteenth century New England
buildings were so damned serious. So unrelentingly angular. After
growing up around charming stone house with crenellations and
towers and curved windows and arches covered in strangling vines,
one is impressed by the difference in New England. I prefer our
softer, more aesthetically pleasing architecture but you have to
like the man’s style.”
    “Daphne, it occurs to me that you know just
about everything about me, my icy parents, my lonely childhood, my
school experiences, even my lovers and yet you have revealed very
little. Time to dish the dirt. Crenellations, towers, etc. Are you
a princess?”
    “Hardly. Just a happy-go-lucky refugee from
an extremely wealthy family. No big deal.”
    “Interesting. We shall return to that
subject. For now though, time to eat.”
    After dinner, we returned to the subject of
the Edwin Snow letter. “So you must see, Daph, after reading the
crazy old man’s letter, in his usual fashion he intended to stir up
trouble even after death. I am hardly going out looking for a
murderer that might not exist.”
    “Whatever. But, consider this, pal of mine.
This is your chance to be one of your favorite cozy sleuths.
Charge!!!” Daph stood wielding the antique walking stick with a
carved eagle head for a handle that she pulled from among my
growing collection standing in a tall crock next to the side
table.
    “Damn. Oh Daph, maybe you’re correct. I
suppose I would be out of my squash if I didn’t go for it, to use
one of your favorite expressions.”
    “It’s out of your gourd, but anyway, close
enough. Tell me honestly. In your gut what do you believe? Suicide
or murder?”
    “I have toyed with the following scenario;
some old timer in the village decided to have it out with Edwin and
finally tell him all the things that have annoyed him over the
years. He intended it to be strictly verbal but it got out of hand.
Before he knew it, their encounter turned really sour and without
knowing what he was doing he just lost it and tossed him off the
top of the Monument. Not pre-meditated but a crime of passion. He’s
probably a wreck about what he did. Of course, that leaves a really
big question unanswered. Why on earth would two old men climb
hundreds of stairs just to have a chin wag?”
    “Exactly.” Daphne grinned like the Cheshire
cat. “Although, old people get some pretty strange ideas. Maybe the
two old men, just for something different to do, climbed the
hundreds of stairs in the frosty tower to have a smoke. Hey, I’ve
got it. Yes, this is much better. When they were young they shared
their very first smoke up there at the top of the Monument. Back
then it would have been a lark; the steps would have meant nothing
to the boys. But this