MYSTERY SUSPENSE: Boxset Read online

  The Red Purse Murder

  An Randall Stone Mystery

  B.A. Savage

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This Novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locates is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 B.A. Savage

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the author.

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  FROM THE B.A. SAVAGE

  Alex French Series

  Book 1

  Into Darkness

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LNR86F0

  Book 2:

  The Scorned

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L4T3MHO

  Book 3:

  Dangerous Game

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LNR8966

  Book 4

  Deception

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LR0O7S8

  Book 5

  Extortion

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LZFW3Z4

  Book 6

  Suspicion

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MBQNWNI

  Book 7

  Skyjacker

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00N0DGUH6

  Book 8

  Judgment

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NDJ9ULU

  Book 9

  Suicide

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NQJ5L5Q

  Book 10

  Psychopath

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O3YPP8G

  Content

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter One

  My name is Randall Stone. Like many working people, at 6 in the afternoon, I get pretty excited, especially if I haven’t had a client in the last two weeks. But even if I don’t anticipate anyone dropping in before 6, I can’t take a chance. I look out the window at the girls on Vine Street just to kill time.

  I see the sun on the horizon slowly slip away, and I wonder just how many suspected clients are out in the city. Who’s getting in trouble? And can come to Randall Stone for help?

  Now take the thugs in the downtown hotel room as each watch a blonde walking to the door. They’re going to need plenty of help.

  “Where are you going, Jessica?” Ali Campbell asked.

  “I have an appointment.”

  “Don’t you think you should stick around, just in case the contact shows up?”

  “If he’s not here by now, he won’t be here until tomorrow. You guys need to relax.”

  “You cannot blame us for being a little nervous, Jessica.”

  “Doesn’t she look hot, Ali?” Tom Brown asked. “Who are you going to rip off tonight, Jessica?”

  “Your father, if he’s out of the drunk tank yet.”

  “I told you, I don’t like any cracks about my family.”

  “What are you going to do, you big ape?”

  “You keep running your mouth like that; I’m going to punch you in the face.”

  “You try it, tough guy, and I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

  “Please, please, calm down, Jessica. Tom, shut your mouth before I break your jaw. And you get out of here, Jessica, and do whatever you have to do.”

  The two men watched the blonde pick up her red purse and walk out the door.

  “Do you trust her, Ali?” Tom asked.

  “Hell no, I’m not an idiot. We have too much riding on this. Come on; let’s find out where she’s going.”

  Chapter Two

  The two men follow Jessica down Main Street, up Limestone, and down Second Street.

  “Hurry, Ali, we are going to lose her,” Tom said.

  “I see her, Tom. She’s not going to get away.”

  “You think she’s up to something?”

  “Yes, I do. Why do you think we are following her, for the exercise?”

  “Tom, did you see that?”

  “Yeah, she just gave that old lady her purse and the old woman is going in that building.”

  “I see, you stay here. I’m going to see where that old bitch is going.”

  “What are you going to do with her, Ali?”

  “I’m going to get that purse back.”

  Chapter Three

  I was warming up a cup of coffee when an old friend walked in the door.

  “Mister Stone.”

  “Hello, Peggy. Come in, have a seat. Want a cup of coffee?”

  “Got anything stronger?” she asked with a smile.

  “Now, Peggy, I thought you were trying to quit,” I said, pulling the whiskey out of my bottom drawer.

  Well, that’s the way it begins. Sometimes if you wait until last minute, you get a customer. I wasn’t too happy with this one because I knew she didn’t have enough money to buy me lunch.

  “I don’t have much time. I’m a busy lady.”

  “I bet you are.”

  “Mister Stone, I found this purse.”

  “You said you found it, Peggy?”

  “You know me, Mister Stone. I’m going straight now.”

  “I remember a snake that said that and he tried to bite me.”

  “I know, but I haven’t stolen purses since I got out.”

  “What can I do for you, Peggy, I’m broke.”

  “I don’t want any money. I want you to find the owner of the purse and return it.”

  “Well, why don’t you give it to a police officer?”

  “There is no money in it. And with my record, they’ll run me in for purse snatching.”

  “No money.”

  “No, I didn’t touch a thing.”

  “Well, tell me how you know there’s no money inside?”

  “Well, I may have taken a peek. A young lady dropped it while getting on a bus. If you find her, maybe she will give you a reward.”
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  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, Mister Stone, goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, Peggy.”

  Chapter Four

  I have known Peggy Wilson ever since she was caught snatching purses from shopping carts on the south side of town ten years ago. She was sent away for 2 to 5.

  I was sure she lifted the money from the purse, but I opened it and went through it anyway. I started wondering why I took this case when the door opened, and an ugly looking thug walked up to my desk.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself looking in someone else’s purse.”

  “It’s a bad habit, like not knocking on doors before you enter.”

  “It said come inside. So I came inside. Now may I please have the purse?”

  “Is it yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, where are your lipstick and high heels?”

  “You are a smart ass and I don’t like smart asses, because their mouths will get them hurt. Now, may I have my purse or will I have to beat your bony ass?”

  “Well, if you put it that way, here.”

  “Thank you.”

  He reaches for the purse, and I backhand him across the face. He throws a wild punch to my chin. I block it and deliver an uppercut to his stomach.

  I hit him so hard; he doubles over and falls to the floor, out like a light.

  I look at the red purse and start getting that strange feeling again. I got into something that I should have stayed away from.

  Chapter Five

  With a thug in my office, knocked out on the floor, to protect my ass, I called my old friend, Lieutenant Vic Morgan.

  “Homicide, Lieutenant Morgan.”

  “Hello, Vic.”

  “Who’s dead, Randall?”

  “No one, but there’s a guy in my office knocked out on the floor.”

  “So, he isn’t dead?”

  “No, I just smacked him in the mouth when he tried to get tough. Wait a minute; he’s trying to say something.”

  The thug tried to get up. I punched him in the face and knocked him back out.

  “What did you do, Randall?”

  “I asked him to be quiet.”

  “Okay, so you beat up some punk. What do you want me for?”

  “Well, I’ve seen him before, he’s probably wanted. “

  “Hang on, I will send down a wagon to pick him up.”

  “The door will be open. I will fix it where he won’t get away.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “About 10 minutes ago, an old woman handed me a red leather purse. She asked me to find the owner. Right after she left, this thug came in and demanded the purse and said he would kick my bony ass if I didn’t give it to him.”

  “Well, what’s in it, Randall?”

  “Not much, lipstick, a box of matches, and some alcohol pads.”

  “No money?”

  “No, but I need to find out what makes this purse valuable.”

  “I’ll take care of your little visitor.”

  “Thanks, Vic, I’ll keep in touch.”

  “I don’t want to see dead bodies all over my town, Randall.”

  “I got you, Lieutenant. Bye.”

  Chapter Six

  I retrieved a rope out of my desk and tied him up to a chair.

  I didn’t know much about purses, but I knew someone who did. So, I headed for 3825 Niagara Drive to a beautiful lady named Jennifer Long.

  “Good evening, Mister Stone.”

  “Good evening, Joe, is Miss Jennifer in?”

  “Yes, sir, she’s in the living room. Do you need me to get her?”

  “No, my friend, I know the way.”

  I walked down the long hallway to the back room.

  “Is anyone home?”

  “Randall, you got here.”

  “Hello, Jennifer.”

  “Well, when did you start carrying a purse?”

  “Like it? It matches my shoes. Take a look.”

  “You’re an idiot. Whose is it?”

  “I have to find out if it’s worth something. One guy already tried to get it the hard way.”

  “It has initials on it, J.E., but there's nothing of value in it.”

  “I know that, what I can’t understand is its worth something to someone, Jennifer.”

  “You’ll figure it out, honey.”

  “I hope so. Let me see that box of matches. It said Night’s Hotel.”

  “The lipstick has never been used. The smell of the perfume in the purse is Chanel.”

  “Thank you, Jennifer,” I said, kissing her on the lips, running my hands over her breasts, and gently squeezing her nipples. She moaned with pleasure as my fingertips move down her stomach into her box.

  “Here’s your drink, Mister,” The old butler walks into the room and his mouth dropped open. “Please excuse me for not knocking.”

  “It’s okay, Joe. I’m just trying to convince Miss Long to spend the evening with me.”

  The phone rings. “Excuse me. Miss Long’s residence.”

  “Hello, this is Lieutenant Morgan. Is Randall Stone there?”

  “It’s for you, Mister Stone.”

  I gulped the whiskey down and took the phone. “Hello.”

  “This is Lieutenant Morgan. You have 15 minutes to get your bony ass down here before I put a warrant on you.”

  “Wait a minute, Vic, slow down.”

  “I thought I would get home early tonight and you have to knock off some thug.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You said the guy in your office was still alive. Someone shot him in the chest, and you are my prime suspect. Now get down here.”

  “Wait a minute, Vic.”

  “Yes, right in the heart. Now I’m not talking to you anymore until you get here. I want you down here in 15 minutes, pal, or I will get a warrant on you.”

  I set down the phone and looked out the window.

  “Randall, what’s wrong?”

  “My friend, Lieutenant Morgan, has me in line for a murder rap. I have to get down there and find out what’s going on. I’ll see you later, Jennifer.”

  “Randall, wait.”

  “I can’t wait. I’ll be back soon as I can.”

  “Joe, stop Randall, he forgot the purse.”

  “Yes, ma’am, give me the purse, I will give it to him.”

  Chapter Seven

  The old butler wasn’t able to catch me, but the city bus dropped him downtown on Vine Street. A few moments later, a big man kicks in the back door of Jennifer’s house.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” Jennifer yells.

  “If you scream, I will kill you, you understand?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Where is Stone?”

  “He went down to the police department.”

  “Where is the purse?”

  “What purse?”

  “Don’t fuck with me, lady. I saw Stone bring it in here.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wrong answer, I guess I’ll have to beat it out of you.”

  “You stay away from me.”

  “Okay, but you are making it tough on yourself.”

  Her screams echoed through the house but fell on deaf ears.

  Chapter Eight

  The old butler makes his way down Vine Street, goes north on Upper Street and left on Main, when a woman approaches him.

  “Excuse me, sir. You have my purse.”

  “Ma’am, this purse is the property of Mister Randall Stone, private detective.”

  “Yes, I know. I gave it to him to hold for me. Now I want it back.”

  “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but you’ll have to claim it from Mister Stone himself.”

  “Oh, yeah? Help, police! Someone help me, he stole my purse,” she screams.

  “Please, ma’am, calm down.” the butler says.

  The two are struggling over t
he purse as a man ran over.

  “What’s going on here?” he asks.

  “This old fart is trying to steal my purse.”

  “Let go of that purse, you pervert.” the man said, punching Joe in the face. Joe dropped the purse and the woman picked it up and ran.

  “Hey, lady, stop.” the man yells. Joe tries to get up, and the man holds him down. “You aren’t going anywhere, the police are on the way.”

  Chapter Nine

  While Joe was going through hell trying to deliver the purse, Lieutenant Vic Morgan was taking me through hell about a case I was working for free.

  “Now, look, Randall, I don’t care what you say. You told me this thug in your office was alive. I heard you beating the shit out of him over the phone. You know what I’m talking about, when you asked him to “please be quiet”. My men got there, and they find him tied to a chair with three bullet holes in his chest.”

  “Well, he was making noise when I left.”

  “Was this before or after you shot him?”

  “What’s wrong with you, Vic? You know I didn’t kill him.”

  “Yeah, I know it, but what do I tell the captain? That I let you go because you are a friend who was on the force?”

  “No, but you don’t have to act like I killed him either.”

  The phone rings.

  “You want me to answer the phone for you, Lieutenant?” I asked with a shit-eating grin.

  “Don’t be a smart ass, Randall,” Vic said, picking up the phone. “What?”

  “Lieutenant, Officer Ben has some old man out here that was picked up for purse snatching. He said he’s a friend of Stone and wants to see him.”

  “Send him in here,” Vic said, turning to look at me. “Got a purse snatcher who said he knows you.”

  The door opens, and the butler walks in.

  “Joe, are you alright?”

  “Mister Stone, I don’t feel so well.”

  “Isn’t he your girlfriend’s butler, Randall?”