Terry O’Riordan, his parents said, had been happily married for over a year and was about to present them with their first grandchild. “We’re so excited,” Mrs. O’Riordan said. “I’m sure this was a much better marriage for him.”
Scratch suspect three. Maybe Hell hath no fury like a suitor scorned, but this trio seemed innocent. I did wonder, though, who had ended each engagement and why.
The next day I visited the printer ,who remembered Cool as a customer. “No one was home and it looked like a good neighbourhood so our deliveryman left the box of invitations on the verandah. Who’d steal wedding invitations? Evidently someone did, though. Mr. Young must have been annoyed because he didn’t re-order. Must have gone somewhere else.”
The dressmaker had not left the gown and shoes on the porch. “Someone took them, maybe Mr. Young. I’m sure they were in perfect condition when they left here, but they were damaged when he unpacked them, too badly to repair.”
“Were they re-ordered?”
“No.”
The florist had not yet filled the order, but was ready to deliver flowers to the church and reception hall. “Oh, please remind Mr. Young that he hasn’t paid us yet.”
I was glad I didn’t have a daughter to get married. It seemed to be a complicated and expensive task.
I called Cool Al to report my progress, or lack thereof. “Six dead ends so far.”
“Well, keep trying, Rock.”
“Could Soo-Lin and her fiancé meet me for dinner tonight at six thirty at Hamburger Heaven?”
“Sure, man.”
Soo-Lin and her fiancé, Truman Steele, arrived promptly, dressed casually. I had no trouble spotting her because she stood out like a rose in a vaseful of ragweed. With them was Cool, sporting a new tee-shirt that identified him as “Daddy of the Bride”. After the necessary introductions, we ordered and I tried to question the couple subtly, although some people say I am as subtle as a charging rhinoceros.
“Why would anyone want to prevent your wedding?”
“I don’t know,” said Soo-Lin.
“But when we find out, he’ll be sorry” threatened Truman. His anger compensated for his lack of brawn.
“Cool it,” ordered Al, showing some common sense. “Rock will find him.”
Over coffee, I tried tactfully to learn about Soo-Lin’s earlier engagements, and if there had been any trouble. “We never reached the wedding-planning stage.”
“Fortunately,” added daddy. “None of those zeroes were good enough for you.” I wondered if even an Arthurian knight or a saint would have qualified as worthy in Cool’s eyes.
“I hope I am,” smiled Tru, modestly. It was obvious the couple were very much in love.
When the bill came, there was a lengthy debate over who would pay for whom. In the end, Al paid for himself and Soo-Lin, while Truman and I paid for ourselves.
All night i lay awake, repeatedly going over the detective’s triad: motive, means, opportunity. At dawn came an inspiration, but it was based entirely on circumstances, guess-work, and gut reaction, a flimsy foundation. Nevertheless, I asked Cool, Soo-Lin, and Truman to meet me at my office at their convenience. I also asked Hank, my caretaker/watchman friend, to be nearby with a crowbar in case of trouble. I am, and want to remain, a non-violent detective.
