Mr. Morrison shuffled through his file cabinet. "Crane.Crane." he muttered
to himself. "Ah, here we are. Mr. Jonathan Crane-9223 Springfield Lane."
"Thank you," Steed replied, touching his hat.
"If you need anything else," Mr. Morrison hurriedly interjected.
"You'll be the first to know," Steed assured him, before shutting the door behind him.
**************************************************************************** **********
"Here we are," Steed said cheerfully. "9223 Springfield Lane."
"Well, then, let's go," Mrs. Peel replied, launching herself over the Bentley's door, and striding purposefully to the door. Halfway there, she turned back. "Well," she questioned. Sputtering, Steed caught up. As Mrs. Peel raised her hand to knock, the door opened. "Oh, um, we were looking for a Mr. Jonathan Crane," she stumbled, caught unawares.
"That's me," a middle-aged slightly balding man stepped out into the light.
"Are you sure," Steed questioned. "We're investigating the 'body- snatching' of a Mrs. Jane Crane."
The man's eyes flickered suspicion. "My aunt," he explained.
"May we talk to your uncle," Steed questioned.
The man's face clouded over. "My uncle is dead."
"Then what about the disappearance of your aunt's body," Mrs. Peel interjected.
"It's all a mistake," Mr. Crane emphatically stated. "My uncle wanted his wife to be buried next to him in our ancestral home."
"But," Mrs. Peel tried to speak, but the door slammed into her face.
"Friendly chap, isn't he," Steed gestured to the offending door.
Mrs. Peel shrugged, and turned to walk back to the Bentley. The car phone rang, and she rushed to pick it up.
AN: Who's on the phone?!?! Is it another murder?!?! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'll try to update more. Promise.
"Thank you," Steed replied, touching his hat.
"If you need anything else," Mr. Morrison hurriedly interjected.
"You'll be the first to know," Steed assured him, before shutting the door behind him.
**************************************************************************** **********
"Here we are," Steed said cheerfully. "9223 Springfield Lane."
"Well, then, let's go," Mrs. Peel replied, launching herself over the Bentley's door, and striding purposefully to the door. Halfway there, she turned back. "Well," she questioned. Sputtering, Steed caught up. As Mrs. Peel raised her hand to knock, the door opened. "Oh, um, we were looking for a Mr. Jonathan Crane," she stumbled, caught unawares.
"That's me," a middle-aged slightly balding man stepped out into the light.
"Are you sure," Steed questioned. "We're investigating the 'body- snatching' of a Mrs. Jane Crane."
The man's eyes flickered suspicion. "My aunt," he explained.
"May we talk to your uncle," Steed questioned.
The man's face clouded over. "My uncle is dead."
"Then what about the disappearance of your aunt's body," Mrs. Peel interjected.
"It's all a mistake," Mr. Crane emphatically stated. "My uncle wanted his wife to be buried next to him in our ancestral home."
"But," Mrs. Peel tried to speak, but the door slammed into her face.
"Friendly chap, isn't he," Steed gestured to the offending door.
Mrs. Peel shrugged, and turned to walk back to the Bentley. The car phone rang, and she rushed to pick it up.
AN: Who's on the phone?!?! Is it another murder?!?! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'll try to update more. Promise.
