Penny's Pass the Parcel Part 3

Sheriff Milton didn't know how long he had been unconscious.

As he recovered, he vaguely remembered a pungent but pleasant smell emanating from a silk purse that Amos Snodgrass had been swinging like a priest dispensing incense with a thurible.

He realised that the mysterious substance which had made him senseless could only have been chloroform or something akin to it.

His brain was trying to recall what had happened before his keeling over into a catatonic state.

Gradually, the memory resurfaced.

Snoody had shown him the contents of his safe and bragged that with his wealth, he could buy anything or anybody.

Milton, having seen the size of the lucre, decided to get a big slice of it.

With it, he could say goodbye to the humdrum life of a provincial officer of the law, resign his position, and retire in luxury.

This was the right opportunity.

He threatened the old codger, telling him that he would report him to the Internal Revenue Service for tax evasion, but he would stay silent in return for a large consideration.

“Ah, ah! You've got nothing on me, buddy, but I've plenty of evidence that could make you lose your badge.”

The laughter got fainter and fainter as the sheriff fell in slow motion to the floor.
The house was now deserted, and there was no sight of the old reprobate nor of the money and the collectors' items and maps that Snodgrass seemed to value greatly. 

He inspected the empty room. Nothing had been disturbed; the safe had been relocked and hidden behind the wallpaper once again.

The only thing left behind was a 100 dollar note on the table. Milton speculated whether that was intended to be his payoff and laughed.

Nevertheless, he pocketed it.

It was obvious that the old man meant to return.

“And so will I”, said Milton to himself.

There was nothing else for him to do but leave Snodgrass's house, thankful that he was still alive.

He was not surprised to be called the following morning to investigate the apparent disappearance, and possible murder, of Mr. Snodgrass, because He was sure that the villain had legged it during the night, after retrieving his treasure from the safe, and was creating a smokescreen.

The protocol had to be followed so that his own involvement would not come to light.

Jake Marindina, the deputy, was puzzled at how the situation was being handled by his superior.

He was convinced that they had been met by a wall of silence from the inhabitants of Mornington Heights, and yet Milton was still treating them with kid gloves.

“We have to turn the screws, Chief”, he said, “they'll soon sing like canaries”.

“No, no, Jake. This is too big a crime for a lot of local decrepit rogues, even though they all have form for minor felonies.”

The blood-sodden oriental carpet was finally removed. Forensics had established that it was soaked in sheep's blood and not human.

As no body had been found, the theory that a murder had been committed fell by the wayside.

That Snodgrass had been kidnapped was the new line of enquiry, but no ransom note had been received. And even if one was sent, to whom would it be delivered? Amos Snodgrass was a single man who lived alone and had no relatives, rich or otherwise.

Robbery was the remaining possibility. Sheriff Milton, who knew the truth, kept mum and held his cards close to his chest.

His only concern was the damn hat that fell on the floor each time he moved his head.

“To hell with it”, he said to himself, “I shall go to the general store and get myself a new 10-gallon Stetson with Snoody's 100-dollar bill.”

He waited for the receipt while the shopkeeper was checking the note with a UV lamp.

“Sorry, Chief. You have been had; this banknote is counterfeit.”

“The motherfucker!” shouted Milton and followed that noun with a string of crude expletives that made the young Smithson twins, who were buying lollipops, go bright red in the face.

“Calm yourself, Gideon, or you'll give yourself a heart attack”, said the seller, who was a schoolfriend of the sheriff.

A shrill giggle and a guffaw followed this exchange. Jenny and Oliver Padget were in a queue waiting to be served and had witnessed the charade with glee.

To avoid further embarrassment. The sheriff rushed back to the office, where he was met by an excited deputy.

“Good news, Chief. A suitcase full of money has been found abandoned by the riverbank.”

“And I bet they are counterfeit”, Gideon Milton said without thinking.