Cliff

Chapter 13 -- Our Heros Find a Postcard

"Of course, he could have gotten real despondant, thrown away all his notes and papers, and then jumped," Tom said.

"Yeah, he did that. He also threw his computer into the ocean I suppose? In a pig's eye he did. Not only didn't he do that, but he wouldn't have done that. He wasn't feeling down, Tom."

"So you're saying he was murdered. That seems to me to be just as unlikely."

"He jumped, or was pushed, or fell, Tom, those are the only choices. He killed himself, or he died accidently, or somebody killed him. We can't by which one of those solutions we like. We have to choose the one that fits the facts. Only murder fits the facts. He didn't accidently fall off a cliff after accidently throwing away his computer and all his notes and papers. He didn't commit suicide after getting rid of all that stuff either, because, well, he just didn't. And if he did, then who cleaned out his room and office?"

"So what do we do now? "

Everything they thought of involved talking to people, and that meant that someone would learn that they were investigating, and in a town like Goose Cove that meant that everyone in town would know that they were investigating, and that was dangerous. Well, at least it was silly and embarassing.

So having not the least idea in the world what to do next, they went where they had been before, Bob's room.

This time it felt different. This time they were investigating. There had to be something to find in that room.

There was even less in the room than before. All of Bob's personal stuff had been removed, and was supposed to be on its way back to Kansas. They would have to check up on that somehow. The room was bare. A thorough search revealed no hiding places, no secrets at all. Just a chair and a desk, table in the kitchenette area, bed with mattress, closet, bookshelves, endtable.

They gave up the search and left. On their way down the stairs they saw it. Laying there on the floor in front of the door. The postman had dropped it through the slot, and there it was laying on the floor. The letter carrier must have come while they were in Bob's room. Sally picked it up.

It was a postcard, addressed to Bob. It said. "Don't know much." There was a number to call if Bob wanted any more information. It was signed "Fred."

Sally stuck it into her pocket and hurried out the door.