Read Online Buried Caesars by Stuart M. Kaminsky - Free Book Online Page B

one foot to the other like a kid who had wet his diaper.
    “Lindsey,” Rashkow was saying, “you were told that you couldn’t sit on Mrs. Wiskler’s dogs, now weren’t you?”
    Seidman let me lead the way up the narrow dark stairway and around to the left, past the squad room, to my brother’s office. I knocked and went in when Phil grunted. Seidman stayed outside.
    “I’m in a good mood, Toby,” Phil said, looking up at me from his desk. He was clearly packing. There were two cardboard boxes on his desk, botrffilled. The drawers of his desk were open. His tie was open wide and he looked at me and ran his thick right hand through his short steely gray hair. Phil pulled his gut in and stood up with a deep sigh.
    “That’s good, Phil,” I said. “You’re moving?”
    “Back to the old office,” he said, face pink. “No more administration. I’ll have a case load, regular squad. No more being nice to old ladies and storekeepers.”
    “Back to head bashing,” I said. “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”
    “I told you,” Phil said, pointing a finger at me. “I am in a good mood. Don’t provoke me. And before you can ask, Ruth is fine. Nate and Dave and Lucy are fine. Now, what’s going on with this crap in Pacific Palisades. Why’d they call me?”
    “I …”
    “I think we’ve got a pair of gatekeepers who can identify you,” he cut in. “So don’t give me any of your cockeyed stories.”
    “I didn’t kill him,” I said. “I just found the body.”
    “I know that,” Phil said, emptying a drawer into one of the boxes. Paper clips, broken pencils and pieces of paper fluttered. Some of it got into the box. “Medical examiner just called. Hower was killed last night. You didn’t get there till this morning. What the hell were you doing there? Who was the guy you were with? Why is someone calling me and trying to nail you with murder one?”
    “I’m on a case,” I said. “Missing wife. Thought she might be with Hower. Faked my way in and found his body. So I got the hell out.”
    Phil grunted and opened another drawer before he spoke.
    “Hower didn’t like wives or girls,” Phil said. “He liked husbands and boys. And who was with you?”
    “An ex-Pink I hired to give me a hand, name’s Dain.”
    Phil paused again and pursed his lips.
    “Two men on one case. Husband must have a few bucks.”
    “He’s all right,” I said.
    “Bullshit,” said Phil gently, stretching the words out to fill the room. “We’ve got a murder and a missing roommate named Lansing. We’ve got a call trying to nail you. Any idea of who that call might be from?”
    “None,” I said. “Some people don’t like me.”
    “Impossible,” Phil said, shaking his head. “Not like my little brother?”
    “Incredible,” I agreed, “but sadly true.”
    “See these two boxes?” Phil said, picking up the nearest one.
    I had a feeling we were going to play a game I didn’t like. My nose had been broken three times, twice by Phil. Phil had been known to use whatever he had in his hands to attack lawbreakers and his brother. Phil had no imagination. The shortest distance to make a point was right through your head.
    “I see it, Phil,” I said.
    “Good,” said Phil. He lifted the box and hurled it over the desk toward my head. I ducked as it grazed my shoulder and slammed against the wall.
    Seidman stuck his head in, no expression on his face. He looked around, saw the mess and Phil’s red face, understood and closed the door.
    “Who’s going to clean that up, Toby?” he said, trying to control himself.
    “I’ll be happy to help, Phil,” I said.
    “Thanks,” he said, and hurled the second cardboard box at me. This one was heavier and I wasn’t ready for it. It caught me in the chest and fell at my feet, breaking open like a ripe pinata. I had a great remark on my lips but I couldn’t catch my breath.
    “Have a seat. Tell me what happened and we’ll both clean up. What do you say?” He