Case Two
Mystery Of The Grease-Stained Note
Finally! Our dry spell was over. We hadn't received a case for a month. Now, after all this time, we were asked to come to Brazil to clear up a scam. Right now, we were on a boat from Florida.
The boat trip was pretty smooth after Dee's sea sickness cleared up. Still, she didn't have her sea legs yet, and her clumsyness combined with the rocking boat made her a human ping-pong ball.
Then, about halfway through the trip, the captain received a grease-stained note that read:
Captain,
Turn this boat around and head back to Florida. If you don't, I will give my men orders to board this vessel and take everyone on board prisoner. Don't try to contact the cops about this ever, or you will pay. I hope you do the wise thing, and turn back before it's too late.
The captain told me about the situation. "You and your assistant are the only ones I feel safe in telling. I don't want to scare anyone into doing something foolish."
"I understand completely," I replied. "Any idea who might have sent the note? Once we have a definite suspect, I can take him down before he can contact his buddies."
"I have a few suspicions, but no definites. The note was written on a napkin with a grease-stain on it. With that in mind, I think it was the cook."
"It could be anyone, Captain. Napkins are readily available in the dining room. And there are plenty of greasy foods being served."
"True, true," the Captain replied, nodding.
"I think I have a plan ," Dee said. The captain leaned forward.
"I'm listening."
"Over the PA, read the note to the passengers. Don't mention anything about the grease stain or the napkin. And instruct them not to tell anyone that isn't on board this
ship, under any circumstances. Then turn the boat around. I'll have the case solved before we even come within 100 miles of Florida."
"I will."
The captain and I said goodnight, and Dee and I headed back to my cabin."
The next morning, I sat in the dining room talking with the passengers. One guy in particular, Sam Poler, seemed particularly talkative about the incident.
"Pretty nerve-wracking, that note. I didn't sleep a wink last night."
I nodded. "Who do you think did it?" I asked.
Sam Poler shrugged. "Probably the cook."
"It could be anyone, though, couldn't it?"
"Yeah, if you say so." He stood up. "I think I'm going to go play pool."
"Stop right there, Sam," Dee shouted.
He turned. "Why?" A fury burned in his eyes. "I'm a free man, I can do what I want."
"You won't be one for long."
Sam started to reach for something on his belt. "A pager!" I thought. That was my cue. I tackled him. We fought for a minute or two before I finally slapped my handcuffs on him.
Everyone gathered around me and Sam. The captain pushed through the crowd.
"Here's your man, Captain."
"How do you know?" the Captain asked.
After explaining, the Captain turned the boat back toward Brazil.
This case was closed.
HOW DID NOAH KNOW SAM WAS THE NOTE WRITER?