Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 30
…”Can you pass the ketchup Marty?” He hates being called Marty…
“I need to use the little girls’ room,” Fanny offers, “how about you Connie?”
“No, I’ll wait until we hit the road.”
“30 divided by 4 is….,” Eddie starts divvying up the bite-sized hamburgers and yet another family factoid. “The hamburger was invented in Seymour, Wisconsin. They have a Burger Festival every year and me and the family make the drive there pretty much every year, mostly for the bun toss and the parade. Great fun.”
“7.5. You can have my portion,” Martin does the math.
He hates being called Marty.
Conversation is spotty at the booth, perhaps having to do with that mystery briefcase in the trunk or is it that Fanny Renwick’s is conspicuous by her absence?
“It’s been 15 minutes,” Of course it is Constance who would notice the prolonged potty pause.
“That is the same idiot who nearly ran us off the road,” notices Eddie, who knows his automobiles. “That ain’t no family car.”
“Relax, he is long gone by now,” Constance gets up to head for the ladies room. “I am going to check on Fanny.”
A “Castle” cleaning woman points the way to the washroom when asked. It is small, three stalls.
A quick visual sweep is easy, her friend’s purse is still on the wash basin, opened to the makeup compartment but it is what she sees on the mirror shocks her. The letters F M are scrawled on the reflective glass, using a bar of soap.
Constance Caraway P.I.