When Harry and Bruce pulled up beside Mrs. Thorne’s house later, there was what looked like a heap of rubbish on her front lawn.
“Looks like she’s doing some fall cleaning,” Harry said.
“That’s what’s on my agenda for the weekend,” Bruce said. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to it but…”
“There you are, Detective. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“The thorn in my life,” Harry muttered under his breath. “What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Thorne?” he continued as Bruce started to chuckle and faked a cough instead.
“Right there beside you.” She came towards them, hands encased in gardening gloves as she pointed to the heap on her lawn.
Bruce had regained his composure. “What exactly is it?”
“See for yourself.” She pulled several items from the pile and tossed them on the ground separately.
“Old shoes?” Harry asked. “I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. I haven’t told you the story yet.”
“I mean, what’s unusual about old shoes?”
“They aren’t just any old shoes, Detective. You see, my dog has been finding them and laying them on the back porch. They’ve obviously been dug up somewhere because they’re full of dirt. But I don’t know where or how he’s getting them,” she explained.
“You don’t think your dog is digging them up?” Bruce asked.
“The only time Brewster is outside of my own back yard is when I take him for a walk. We always use the boardwalk around the pond. So I can’t see how Brewster could be digging them up and I can’t figure out where he’s getting them.”
“Maybe someone else is tossing them over your fence,” Harry suggested.
“But why? What would be the purpose?” She shook her head. “But that’s not the only thing.”
“Oh? Is he finding other things too?” Harry asked.
“Not exactly. Look closely, Detective. These shoes are all for the left foot. Don’t you think that’s a bit unusual?”
“I suppose it is,” he agreed. “Bruce, get a couple pair of evidence gloves from the car.”
“There seems to be a variety of footwear here,” Harry said as he and Bruce put on the gloves. “Let’s sort them out.” They sorted the heap into three smaller piles: dress shoes, sneakers and slippers.
“You know,” Bruce said, “none of them show any sign of wear.”
“Hmm, you’re right,” Harry said. “No frayed laces, trodden-down heels, no wear on the soles. Except for the dirt, they look new. And strangely enough, they’re all size nine.”
“Could it have been some sort of packing or shipping error and the extra shoes were discarded?” Bruce said.
Harry straightened up. “So what do we have? A variety of men’s footwear that don’t appear to have been worn, all for the left foot, and all the same size.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“A bit odd,” Bruce commented.
Harry nodded. “Mrs. Thorne, when is your dog usually outside in the backyard?”
“Well, we usually go for our walk right after lunch and when we get back I leave him outside for an hour or so. Oh! And I usually give him a bone to chew on.”
“A bone?”
