Jack Mortimer, Private Eye: Part Two

Oh dear oh dear oh dear me, I've been so caught up with NaNoWriMo and school and people coming over (yes, you know who, Clara, I'm sure :p) that I've sadly neglected this blog and put it away for nighttime. Well, here is Part Two of Jack Mortimer, Private Eye.....

I stares at Margaret for a moment, surprised. Margaret stares at me, too, her eyes full of fear, pleading with me, until tears begin to flow. She looks away as she wipes them, though more come down.
The first thing that comes to mind is, Who on earth would try to threaten Margaret Simmons?
Then, She’s famous and rich! For helping her, she’ll pay a hefty sum.
I walk over to my desk and turn on the lamp.
“Who is trying to threaten you?” I asks, whipping out a notebook and pencil.
“Oh, but I haven’t a clue!” Margaret sobs out. “You see, the first time this started, it was just a note saying…oh wait, I have here in my purse.”
“That’s weird,” I comment.
“What’s weird?” Margaret, whom I decided to call Meg, looks at me funny.
“The note,” I reply. “It says, ‘Oh wait, I have it here in my purse.’”
Meg giggles suddenly, catching me off guard. I watch her, speechless.
“No no no, silly,” Margaret says. “I meant that the note was actually in my purse.”
 I gulp. I haven’t made such a stupid mistake for over ten years.
Meg sobers suddenly as she opens her purse, which makes me almost giggle. I’ve never seen anyone sober so fast.
Finally, Meg take three notes out of her purse.
She hands me one of them while saying, “I did what they asked out of pity for them.”

I read:

Miss Margaret:
I desperately need money for food and water. Please help and give me ten dollars and put it at the foot of the Joan of Arc before tonight! Please!
X


“Of course,” I mutter. “X.”
“Naturally, when I gave him the money, I never saw him,” Meg says.
I opened my mouth to ask a question, but think the better of it. Meg hands me the second note.

Miss Margaret:
The ten dollars may have saved my life! But please, I need twenty-five more dollars to help survive longer.
X

I raised my eyebrows at this, and Meg said, “I didn’t give any money that time.”
She looked ashamed. “I put it in my purse and forgot about it.”
I folded the notes perfectly just as they used to be; un-wrinkled creamy paper with perfect, creased lines. It was very pretty.
Meg handed me the last note.

Miss Margaret:
I might have died without those twenty-five dollars you didn’t give me, if it hadn’t been for a kind passerby that gave me some money,
Now, leave one hundred dollars by the Joan of Arc statue or you’ll never see your fiancé again!
X

I re-folded the perfect paper and put that in in my pocket too.
“When did this begin?” I asks, poising to write on my notebook.
“About five days ago,” Meg replied. “The second one came three days ago, then the first one came the day after.”
"Hmm," I says thoughtfully. Then I frown. "It all seems a little...melodramatic, I think."
The actress stares at me. "M-melodramatic? How could you say that? My fiance is being threatened to be killed! How can it be melodramatic?"
"Easily," I says, scribbling furiously in my notebook. "Anyhow, how come it took you two days to find help? Why didn't you get help right away?"
"Oh, this is no matter for the police," she says. "It's not quite enough proof for them, I should think. I spent the last two days hunting for a good private eye to help me. I found out about you this morning, and then had hunt for your address. Everyone raved on and on about you for so long, so it didn't take too long to find where you lived. All those thieves you caught! My, I see why people liked you so much, goodness, for all those ravings I heard all the time."
"Well, you know, it's nothing really," I coughed modestly, growing ever so slightly a shade of pink.
"Then why should I hire someone who asks for so much when it's 'nothing really'?" Meg mimicked my voice.
"Ah, no no no! That's not what I meant!" I says frantically. "I just meant...um..."
Meg laughed gaily. "Got you! I wouldn't want anyone else. Come over to my place tomorrow and we'll talk about other details. Okay?"
"Yes ma'am," I says.
I watch her leave, then I sit down in my office chair.
"Boy, I gotta watch my words!" I says to no one. To thin air. To myself. Whatever.