Read Online Act of Betrayal by Shirley Kennett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shirley Kennett
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member of a detective’s family, but the way things were going Wall’s next question would be one she definitely didn’t want to hear, or even think about.
“We had driven there separately. We went home separately. What’s this all about, Lieutenant?” PJ fixed a look on her face that said, I showed you mine, now show me yours.
Wall settled heavily into one of her chairs and propped his elbows on the desk across from her. “There was a hit-and-run this morning about seven,” he said. “A couple of blocks from Schultz’s house. Four-year-old girl, and she’s not expected to live. A couple of people saw it, and they say the car ran up on the curb, like the driver was going after the girl.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” PJ said. She was puzzled, but waiting to hear Wall out.
“The car was described as a reddish-orange Pacer. Two witnesses on the street reported the license number. One got only a partial, the first three letters as MBF. The second witness reported MBF 181. That’s the vehicle signed out to Schultz.”
PJ sat back in her chair, stunned into silence. Wall shook his head.
“There’s more. The driver wasn’t seen clearly enough for a confident ID, one of the reasons being that he was wearing a hat. But the general description matches Schultz.”
“Schultz doesn’t wear a hat. I’ve never seen him in a hat,” PJ said.
“He has one that he only wears to funerals. You haven’t been around long enough to see him in it.”
“Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable.”
“I know that. But I also know they can’t be completely ignored.”
PJ closed her eyes. She tried to imagine a bitter Schultz depriving some other parent of a child. Wearing his funeral clothes and running a four year old over on the sidewalk out of spite, so others would feel the way he did.
“He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.” She shook her head. “Okay, he might have been a little inebriated and depressed when I last saw him. But he was on his way home, and he didn’t have alcohol at home. He had to leave his house last night to get drinks. I think if he’d had a bottle in the house, he would have parked himself at the kitchen table rather than have me tag along after him like a chaperone. You’re saying he deliberately went out this morning and ran down some child while he was sober?”
Wall shrugged. “He could’ve gone out for booze after the two of you parted, and stocked up at home. I’ve known Schultz a lot longer than you have, and I can’t imagine him doing anything like that. But then he’s never seen his only son murdered and plumped up like a hot dog, either.”
“Oh God, Howard, do you think he did it?”
Wall shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope not, but things look bad. His car was found parked right in front of his house. It’s got a broken headlight and blood that’s the same type as the girl’s. Probably the DNA testing will confirm it.”
“Did he lend his car to someone? What does he say about it?”
“I’d sure like to hear his side of things, if I could just find him.”
PJ realized that he was hinting that Schultz was at her place. “I haven’t seen him or heard from him since I put him in the cab last night,” she said. She said it with enough conviction so that Wall was evidently satisfied, at least for the moment. He rose and walked toward the office door.
“Wait, I’ve got an idea,” PJ said. “He phoned his ex-wife yesterday. I know he felt bad because he wasn’t there to tell her in person. Maybe he’s at her home in Chicago.”
“Yeah, we’ve thought of that. No one answers there, and the Chicago PD says nobody’s home. They’re looking for Julia and her boyfriend. God Almighty, PJ, it looks like they might be hiding him. I didn’t think I’d ever be saying anything like this, but he’s wanted for questioning for vehicular assault. If that little girl dies, it’s manslaughter, at least.”
Eight
N EWS TRICKLED IN TO PJ in her
“We had driven there separately. We went home separately. What’s this all about, Lieutenant?” PJ fixed a look on her face that said, I showed you mine, now show me yours.
Wall settled heavily into one of her chairs and propped his elbows on the desk across from her. “There was a hit-and-run this morning about seven,” he said. “A couple of blocks from Schultz’s house. Four-year-old girl, and she’s not expected to live. A couple of people saw it, and they say the car ran up on the curb, like the driver was going after the girl.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” PJ said. She was puzzled, but waiting to hear Wall out.
“The car was described as a reddish-orange Pacer. Two witnesses on the street reported the license number. One got only a partial, the first three letters as MBF. The second witness reported MBF 181. That’s the vehicle signed out to Schultz.”
PJ sat back in her chair, stunned into silence. Wall shook his head.
“There’s more. The driver wasn’t seen clearly enough for a confident ID, one of the reasons being that he was wearing a hat. But the general description matches Schultz.”
“Schultz doesn’t wear a hat. I’ve never seen him in a hat,” PJ said.
“He has one that he only wears to funerals. You haven’t been around long enough to see him in it.”
“Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable.”
“I know that. But I also know they can’t be completely ignored.”
PJ closed her eyes. She tried to imagine a bitter Schultz depriving some other parent of a child. Wearing his funeral clothes and running a four year old over on the sidewalk out of spite, so others would feel the way he did.
“He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.” She shook her head. “Okay, he might have been a little inebriated and depressed when I last saw him. But he was on his way home, and he didn’t have alcohol at home. He had to leave his house last night to get drinks. I think if he’d had a bottle in the house, he would have parked himself at the kitchen table rather than have me tag along after him like a chaperone. You’re saying he deliberately went out this morning and ran down some child while he was sober?”
Wall shrugged. “He could’ve gone out for booze after the two of you parted, and stocked up at home. I’ve known Schultz a lot longer than you have, and I can’t imagine him doing anything like that. But then he’s never seen his only son murdered and plumped up like a hot dog, either.”
“Oh God, Howard, do you think he did it?”
Wall shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope not, but things look bad. His car was found parked right in front of his house. It’s got a broken headlight and blood that’s the same type as the girl’s. Probably the DNA testing will confirm it.”
“Did he lend his car to someone? What does he say about it?”
“I’d sure like to hear his side of things, if I could just find him.”
PJ realized that he was hinting that Schultz was at her place. “I haven’t seen him or heard from him since I put him in the cab last night,” she said. She said it with enough conviction so that Wall was evidently satisfied, at least for the moment. He rose and walked toward the office door.
“Wait, I’ve got an idea,” PJ said. “He phoned his ex-wife yesterday. I know he felt bad because he wasn’t there to tell her in person. Maybe he’s at her home in Chicago.”
“Yeah, we’ve thought of that. No one answers there, and the Chicago PD says nobody’s home. They’re looking for Julia and her boyfriend. God Almighty, PJ, it looks like they might be hiding him. I didn’t think I’d ever be saying anything like this, but he’s wanted for questioning for vehicular assault. If that little girl dies, it’s manslaughter, at least.”
Eight
N EWS TRICKLED IN TO PJ in her
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