Author’s Note: This is a sneak peek of the prequel to the cozy mystery novel Beck’s Rules where we discover the origin of hard-nosed reporter May Beck as she cuts her newspaper teeth and develops her skills on the streets of her urban city.
Sometimes being right is an overwhelming burden to bear. But I knew something about this case stunk like a bad fish and Limberger cheese sandwich. They sell those at the food cart down the block from my newspaper, the News Bugle. We call it the Bug for short.
My beat and some would say my obsession is the crusty under belly of the inner city. Gangsters have taken over and it’s my job to flush them out into the daylight of the black and white newspaper. My name is May Beck and I’m a reporter.
I follow the mob’s web of deceit like a black widow spider waiting for the kill. When they make a mistake, I draw it out in ink for my readers.
But one web constantly slips through my fingers, baffling me for years.
Then one of my less than scrupulous informants crawled out of the shadows to give me a hot tip on a crime family I’ve been investigating, the Carringtons.
Their filthy fingers are in every pot and bucket in my city. They own everything from dry cleaners and restaurants to the mayor’s office and I can trace their ill-gotten gains to every lowlife and scum bag who toil in the gutter to make the Carrington mansion in the clouds squeaky clean. That’s why it’s so hard to nail them. They weave their crime syndicate so tight like a loom, it’s impossible to break. Unless… I cut a strand. That’s what I was hoping for when I went to visit an anonymous lady in the nuthouse.
Darkness hung low all over the place in spite of the shiny white linoleum floors and sparkling milky metal cabinets that gleamed in reflection of blinding fluorescent lights. And a bleak sadness filled the air as thick as a London fog, making it hard to see reality.
My tip said this woman named, Meg worked for Carrington’s office and had some information that could give me a piece for my jigsaw puzzle on the big boss. That’s all he could tell me, so I went in blind.
I regrettably turned in my signature smart hat, Chanel suit and slingback heels for a the boring frock and sensible shoes. Add a pair of black hornrimmed glasses and with my hair tied in a bun and my masquerade was complete, perfect for a dowdy do gooder trying to spread a Little sunshine on their dreary day. A lame disguise, but it got me passed the stiffnosed nurses at the front desk.
The recreation room was full of white terry cloth robes and white pajamas so they almost blended with the background. I guess that was the point…if nobody sees them, nobody cares for them.
I carried a basket of little soft chew candies, and roamed around the room handing them out, smiling at the blank faces. Staring back at me were stone, looking through me as if I was a ghost, not even there.
My stool pigeon said Meg was petite and young with black hair and black glasses. Finally there, I saw her sitting in the corner with her head down. At first I thought she was asleep; she was still is a statue. But when I called her name, she looked up.
“Meg, a friend of yours sent me to see how you were doing,” I sat next to her and touched her hand. It was cold as ice.
She barely acknowledged me. I’m sure they had her hocked up on some cocktail of medication that numbed her scrambled brains. So I had to up the ante.
He’s wondering if there’s anything you need. You know him, Michael Carrington, I said, and she pulled her hand away quickly. She knew him all right.
He doesn’t care she mumbled.
So I guess our mutual friend is not on your Christmas list, but I can help you. Did he put you in here?
She paused a minute and moved her head in a slight nod.
Why? I asked not knowing if I was going to get an answer or anything for that matter.
Without looking at me, she took the candy I gave her before, and checked in in her mouth, then she took my hand and put the paper in it.
Paper she muttered.
She knew something, but it was locked tight in her mixed up noggin and I didn’t have the key to get it out.
As I looked down at the sticky paper in my hand, I realized that this was a her way of telling me something but I didn’t understand.
Walking into the midday sun back to the newspaper, I thought about the clue.
Meg worked in his office so she could’ve had access to files that’s paper.
Then I saw some poor sucker trading some George Washington’s for that stinky cheese sandwich and it hit me.
Money is made of paper. Counterfeit money. I suspected the Carrington’s of having a counterfeit operation for years, but had no evidence. Maybe Meg was the key. I needed to find out more of what she did for them.
In the years I followed this family I’ve seen them stomp over people and leave them in their wake for less, but to throw a young woman’s life away to cover misdeeds, that’s the true meaning of collateral damage. And I wasn’t gonna stand for it. I’m gonna get them and I’m gonna save her.
I live by a strict rule of conduct. Beck’s Rule 30, never leave anyone behind.
(c) Copyright 2023 Suzanne Rudd Hamilton
Click here to read the first/last installment Beck’s Rules
SUZANNE RUDD HAMILTON 