When I returned to the Flurfendorf estate, the evidence was right there, neatly piled up so I wouldn’t miss it. Mrs. Flurfendorf sat nervously on the sofa, a practiced look of remorse struggling to stay on her face. It was too perfect, too easy. When you’ve been in the gumshoe trade as long as I have, you can smell a decoy a mile up the block.
It only took one stray glance on her part to give the game away. I turned and realized Mrs. Flurfendorf had been playing me for a patsy the whole time, covering up to protect the real culprit, Mr. Flurfendorf. But now I had him boxed in, and it was crying time for both of them. At least they had plenty of tissue to dry their tears.