there really was a problem, Delsey. I didn’t know for sure until you screamed. But I thought maybe you had a guy staying with you, and I didn’t want to intrude.”
Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice?
Delsey snorted. “Come on, Henry, when was the last time I had a guy over for the night?”
“Well, now that I think about it, maybe never.”
“It’s sad,” Delsey said. “Anna’s always telling me to get rid of the bushel.”
“Bushel?” Henry asked.
“As in hiding your light under—”
“Hey, that’s funny, Delsey.” Henry beamed at her.
Griffin said smoothly, “How long did you wait after you called 911 before you went downstairs and through Delsey’s front door, Henry?”
“I heard some more noises, and I banged on the floor again. I was going to wait for the cops to arrive, but after a couple of minutes I didn’t hear anything, and like I said, I went downstairs.”
Griffin said, “Better you waited a bit, Henry, or you might have been hurt. You didn’t see anyone? Hear anyone or anything other than the bumping sounds?”
Henry shook his head. “Nope, not a thing—well, I did hear a car engine when I was already on my way to check on Delsey, but that’s it. I was thinking about her.”
“Did you happen to glance out a window, see the car?”
“No, sir, I’m sorry, but I didn’t.”
“What did you do next?”
“Your front door wasn’t locked, Delsey, so I stuck my head in and called your name. When you didn’t answer, I went on in.”
Griffin asked, “Was anything out of place, Henry?”
Henry said to Delsey, “Yeah, that little Persian carpet you’re so proud of was all crumpled against the table you have for your mail.”
Like someone had dragged a body over it or was in a big hurry.
“I can’t remember anything else out of place. When I looked in your bathroom, there you were lying on the floor, on your side, your clothes in a pile beside you. You weren’t moving, and I thought you were dead at first. It scared the crap out of me, Delsey. It looked like you’d slipped and fallen, hit your head, maybe, because there was blood in your hair and on the floor. I didn’t see the blood in the bathtub until a paramedic pointed it out, said it was way too much to all be yours. I guess one of the paramedics called Sheriff Noble, because he came right away and asked me about it. He let me follow the ambulance to the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me near you since I wasn’t family, so I finally went home.
“I did go to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, not a wink, so I spent most of the night listening to Anton Rubinstein’s Cello Concerto in A Minor. You know, the piece I’m going to perform in February. What I really wanted was to actually practice it, but I know Mr. McGibbs would be pissed since it was the middle of the night—” Henry shrugged. “Mr. McGibbs lives a good fifty feet away from us but he still bitches if I play too late. I guess I finally fell asleep, since I didn’t wake up until about nine o’clock this morning. I called the hospital, but nobody would tell me anything, so I went to Maurie’s Diner for breakfast. Anna was there. Since she’s your best friend, I told her what happened. She was really upset. I saw her walk over to the restrooms and make a call on her cell phone. When she came back with my bacon and eggs, she spilled coffee on me.”
Who did she call?
Griffin wondered.
“Henry, did you tell someone I found my lover dead in the bathtub? Why ever did you say such a thing?”
Henry flushed, looked agonized, and popped his knuckles again. “Well, that blood the paramedics saw in the tub and what I heard meant someone else was there—and, well, I didn’t know who, Delsey, that’s all, I just said something about your maybe knowing him; it made it a little less scary, you know?”
Griffin let it go. “Is that all you remember, Henry?”
“Yes, sir.”
Griffin nearly laughed at all the “sirring,” since Henry
Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice?
Delsey snorted. “Come on, Henry, when was the last time I had a guy over for the night?”
“Well, now that I think about it, maybe never.”
“It’s sad,” Delsey said. “Anna’s always telling me to get rid of the bushel.”
“Bushel?” Henry asked.
“As in hiding your light under—”
“Hey, that’s funny, Delsey.” Henry beamed at her.
Griffin said smoothly, “How long did you wait after you called 911 before you went downstairs and through Delsey’s front door, Henry?”
“I heard some more noises, and I banged on the floor again. I was going to wait for the cops to arrive, but after a couple of minutes I didn’t hear anything, and like I said, I went downstairs.”
Griffin said, “Better you waited a bit, Henry, or you might have been hurt. You didn’t see anyone? Hear anyone or anything other than the bumping sounds?”
Henry shook his head. “Nope, not a thing—well, I did hear a car engine when I was already on my way to check on Delsey, but that’s it. I was thinking about her.”
“Did you happen to glance out a window, see the car?”
“No, sir, I’m sorry, but I didn’t.”
“What did you do next?”
“Your front door wasn’t locked, Delsey, so I stuck my head in and called your name. When you didn’t answer, I went on in.”
Griffin asked, “Was anything out of place, Henry?”
Henry said to Delsey, “Yeah, that little Persian carpet you’re so proud of was all crumpled against the table you have for your mail.”
Like someone had dragged a body over it or was in a big hurry.
“I can’t remember anything else out of place. When I looked in your bathroom, there you were lying on the floor, on your side, your clothes in a pile beside you. You weren’t moving, and I thought you were dead at first. It scared the crap out of me, Delsey. It looked like you’d slipped and fallen, hit your head, maybe, because there was blood in your hair and on the floor. I didn’t see the blood in the bathtub until a paramedic pointed it out, said it was way too much to all be yours. I guess one of the paramedics called Sheriff Noble, because he came right away and asked me about it. He let me follow the ambulance to the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me near you since I wasn’t family, so I finally went home.
“I did go to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, not a wink, so I spent most of the night listening to Anton Rubinstein’s Cello Concerto in A Minor. You know, the piece I’m going to perform in February. What I really wanted was to actually practice it, but I know Mr. McGibbs would be pissed since it was the middle of the night—” Henry shrugged. “Mr. McGibbs lives a good fifty feet away from us but he still bitches if I play too late. I guess I finally fell asleep, since I didn’t wake up until about nine o’clock this morning. I called the hospital, but nobody would tell me anything, so I went to Maurie’s Diner for breakfast. Anna was there. Since she’s your best friend, I told her what happened. She was really upset. I saw her walk over to the restrooms and make a call on her cell phone. When she came back with my bacon and eggs, she spilled coffee on me.”
Who did she call?
Griffin wondered.
“Henry, did you tell someone I found my lover dead in the bathtub? Why ever did you say such a thing?”
Henry flushed, looked agonized, and popped his knuckles again. “Well, that blood the paramedics saw in the tub and what I heard meant someone else was there—and, well, I didn’t know who, Delsey, that’s all, I just said something about your maybe knowing him; it made it a little less scary, you know?”
Griffin let it go. “Is that all you remember, Henry?”
“Yes, sir.”
Griffin nearly laughed at all the “sirring,” since Henry
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