Deadlock (FBI Thriller #24)(62)

“Good morning, Ms. Cinelli, Chief Wilde. A bit on the nippy side this morning, isn’t it?”

Pippa looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Filly. Let me introduce myself properly. I’m Special Agent Pippa Cinelli, FBI. I can’t show you my credentials—they were stolen yesterday—so Chief Wilde has to vouch for me.”

Maude gaped at her. “What? You’re an FBI agent? But—I don’t understand, Ms. Cinelli.” She looked at Wilde, who nodded. “But you’re here visiting, aren’t you?”

Pippa said, “I was here in St. Lumis undercover, Mrs. Filly. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“But you’re not undercover today? Why? What is going on? Why are you here to see me?”

“The people I’m here to investigate already know I’m here. Let me explain.” Pippa told her about being struck on the head in the abandoned grocery store and left there, unconscious and tied up, and how she’d escaped. “I ran to Chief Wilde’s house last night. My boss, Agent Dillon Savich, drove here from Washington.”

Maude blinked at her, slowly nodded. “That’s horrible, but I don’t understand. Are you all right? Were you hurt?”

“My head aches a bit, and my wrists are still raw, but nothing debilitating.”

Mrs. Filly was shaking her head. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, not in St. Lumis. What about your boss, Agent Cinelli? Is he still here?”

“No, Agent Savich had to go back to Washington.”

“Why on earth are you talking to me? What is this all about?”

Pippa pointed to Major Trumbo’s puzzle. “It all started with this puzzle, Mrs. Filly.”

“That silly puzzle of Major Trumbo? I remember you were very interested in that puzzle when you were here on Sunday morning, asked me all sorts of questions, but what does it have to do with the FBI? Why you were hit on the head?”

“The man who struck me also took my cell phone, so Chief Wilde will have to show you.” Wilde held his cell phone out to Mrs. Filly. She pulled a pair of glasses out of her jacket pocket and leaned close.

“Oh dear, is that a copy of my puzzle? But wait—” She gulped. “Major Trumbo is burning. And all those birds and bones are scattered on the pier and sidewalk.” She took off her glasses and looked from Pippa to Chief Wilde. “What is this all about?”

Pippa told her about the three red boxes and how the third had arrived only yesterday, the same day Pippa was attacked. “Agent Savich drove here when I called to tell him what happened. While he was at Chief Wilde’s house, his own house was set on fire in Washington with his wife and son inside, asleep. Yes, they’re all right, but Agent Savich drove back immediately. Mrs. Filly, we need to know the names of everyone who bought this puzzle.”

Mrs. Filly fiddled with her pearls. “Well, I’ve sold maybe half a dozen, mostly to locals who knew Major Trumbo and got a kick out of seeing a puzzle of the town with the major in it. I remember I sold one to Joyce Sleeman for her husband’s birthday. Mr. Sleeman and Major Trumbo had what you’d call a complicated relationship. She thought he’d get a kick out of seeing the major all paunchy and sneering, wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt.”

Pippa said, “Anyone else local you can remember?”

“There was Harber Fossen, an old drinking buddy of the major’s. I remember joking with him about the T-shirt. And there was Jamie Frost, who lived next door to us when we were married, but he’s a nerd, always fixing computers, harmless. Those are the only locals I remember off the top of my head.”

Pippa said, “Do you have records you could check?”

“I have some credit card records, going back, but I doubt I could remember who bought what. A lot of people in town have bought my puzzles over the years.”

Wilde said, “Have you ever had a customer copy the puzzle, maybe someone you gave instructions to?”

She shook her head. “Never. Most everyone wants to copy Indiana Jones in the pit with all the snakes, or the kraken.”

“Have you ever seen anyone take a picture of this puzzle?”

“No, never did, but that doesn’t mean someone didn’t. Of course, when I finished it, Lill snapped countess shots with her iPad, while laughing her head off.”

Pippa said, “Could you tell us how someone would make a puzzle like that, Mrs. Filly?”

“All you would need is a drawing or a photo to copy and enlarge, an X-Acto knife, acid-free glue, and cardboard. You find whatever puzzle template you like online, outline the puzzle pieces on the back of the cardboard, and cut. Here I apply acrylic to finish them off, you know, make them look professional, but a seal isn’t necessary if you’re using a photograph. Of course, whoever made that puzzle on your phone altered the picture digitally first, easy enough with Photoshop. Agent, Chief, what strikes me is he didn’t even bother to make it look good. See here, the shapes of the pieces match the original, but some of the edges are ragged, some bent. I doubt he used an X-Acto knife, probably a pair of scissors.”

Pippa said, “The puzzle wasn’t the point, it was the subject.”

Wilde said, “I never met Major Trumbo, Mrs. Filly, but it seems to me you took some artistic license. The big belly? The yellow snake kissing his cheek? He doesn’t look like he has much of a mouth.”