Read Online Killing Hope (Gabe Quinn Thriller) by Keith Houghton - Free Book Online
Authors: Keith Houghton
Tags: Fiction / Thrillers
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grouping of items comprising Samuels’ clothing. Batches of fingerprints, photographs. A list of swabs taken for semen residue, skin epithelials, a number of chemicals, substances and compounds that didn’t really mean much to the untrained eye.
Nothing to link Perry with the professor.
But Perry’s PA had been there for a reason. No social visit. Not at that hour. Were they covering tracks? I wondered. Planting falsified evidence after the fact? Or removing the real evidence that linked Perry to the murder?
I needed the PA’s confession, I realized. Needed her to betray her boss. It wouldn’t be easy; she’d already sworn allegiance to the Perry camp. I’d need leverage to make her talk. Something she valued more than loyalty.
22
___________________________
I retraced my steps. Headed westbound on the San Bernardino. Jumped off at the Charlotte Street ramp and followed the road as it swung round into the USC Health Sciences Campus.
Professor Jeffrey Samuels had been Head of Genetics here until his death on Saturday morning. I wanted to canvass those who knew him best. I didn’t know what I’d unearth. Maybe nothing. Hopefully something. Truth is, you never know until you ask the questions. Taking character testimonies can be dull work. But there’s no better way to draw a picture of a person. Comments come sugar-coated or laced with cyanide. Adoration or abhorrence. You can’t have it both ways. You either like somebody or you don’t. Generally speaking, people avoid speaking ill of the dead. But we all have enemies. There’s always somebody itching to dish the dirt, knowing their words will be met with no reprisal after you’re gone.
I spent the next hour or so interviewing both faculty staff and several of the professor’s prized students. Everybody was stunned to learn of his death. To the point of hysterics. I kept an eye out for disgruntled colleagues or castigated students with chips on their shoulders. But no one seemed interested in grinding an axe into Samuels’ memory.
So much sugar made me lightheaded.
I closed up shop. Made a detour back to my car to collect an errand. Then walked the hundred yards over to the County Medical Center attached to the campus.
I was aware of the time. Aware I needed to be elsewhere. Chasing the killer. But duty called – if only for ten minutes.
My regular partner in crime, Harry Kelso, had been laid up here for the last month following bypass surgery. He should have been released and back home on sick leave by now, but a string of persistent complications had kept him in and under observation.
A widely-known fact about Harry: Harry likes his food. It’s obvious from first glance. He’s the only person I know who can gain weight in hospital.
‘That’s because they got me pinned down all day long, buddy.’ He protested joyously as I pointed it out. ‘I’m not running it off, see.’ He fingered his bloated paunch. It wobbled under the sheet like a mound of Jell-O.
I made a face. ‘The only thing that runs in the Kelso family is the nose.’
Harry stuck out his tongue. ‘What can I say? They got me flat on my back all day. They come in. They feed me. Sometimes three of four times. Well-wishers send candy. Fattening fruit. I lost a lot of blood. I need to build up my energy. Did you bring dessert?’
I put a pint of ice cream on the bed table.
His face lit up.
I watched him lever open the lid, licking his lips like a kid in a candy store. Then the joy drained from his face and he glared up at me with accusing eyes.
‘What’s this, buddy – some kind of a joke?’
‘Sorry, Harry. I had the heat on in the car.’
He replaced the lid and slumped into his pillows. ‘Never mind. I’ll drink it later. If it kills me, I’m in the best place, right?’
We both laughed.
No matter how dire the circumstance, Harry had an inimitable way of
Nothing to link Perry with the professor.
But Perry’s PA had been there for a reason. No social visit. Not at that hour. Were they covering tracks? I wondered. Planting falsified evidence after the fact? Or removing the real evidence that linked Perry to the murder?
I needed the PA’s confession, I realized. Needed her to betray her boss. It wouldn’t be easy; she’d already sworn allegiance to the Perry camp. I’d need leverage to make her talk. Something she valued more than loyalty.
22
___________________________
I retraced my steps. Headed westbound on the San Bernardino. Jumped off at the Charlotte Street ramp and followed the road as it swung round into the USC Health Sciences Campus.
Professor Jeffrey Samuels had been Head of Genetics here until his death on Saturday morning. I wanted to canvass those who knew him best. I didn’t know what I’d unearth. Maybe nothing. Hopefully something. Truth is, you never know until you ask the questions. Taking character testimonies can be dull work. But there’s no better way to draw a picture of a person. Comments come sugar-coated or laced with cyanide. Adoration or abhorrence. You can’t have it both ways. You either like somebody or you don’t. Generally speaking, people avoid speaking ill of the dead. But we all have enemies. There’s always somebody itching to dish the dirt, knowing their words will be met with no reprisal after you’re gone.
I spent the next hour or so interviewing both faculty staff and several of the professor’s prized students. Everybody was stunned to learn of his death. To the point of hysterics. I kept an eye out for disgruntled colleagues or castigated students with chips on their shoulders. But no one seemed interested in grinding an axe into Samuels’ memory.
So much sugar made me lightheaded.
I closed up shop. Made a detour back to my car to collect an errand. Then walked the hundred yards over to the County Medical Center attached to the campus.
I was aware of the time. Aware I needed to be elsewhere. Chasing the killer. But duty called – if only for ten minutes.
My regular partner in crime, Harry Kelso, had been laid up here for the last month following bypass surgery. He should have been released and back home on sick leave by now, but a string of persistent complications had kept him in and under observation.
A widely-known fact about Harry: Harry likes his food. It’s obvious from first glance. He’s the only person I know who can gain weight in hospital.
‘That’s because they got me pinned down all day long, buddy.’ He protested joyously as I pointed it out. ‘I’m not running it off, see.’ He fingered his bloated paunch. It wobbled under the sheet like a mound of Jell-O.
I made a face. ‘The only thing that runs in the Kelso family is the nose.’
Harry stuck out his tongue. ‘What can I say? They got me flat on my back all day. They come in. They feed me. Sometimes three of four times. Well-wishers send candy. Fattening fruit. I lost a lot of blood. I need to build up my energy. Did you bring dessert?’
I put a pint of ice cream on the bed table.
His face lit up.
I watched him lever open the lid, licking his lips like a kid in a candy store. Then the joy drained from his face and he glared up at me with accusing eyes.
‘What’s this, buddy – some kind of a joke?’
‘Sorry, Harry. I had the heat on in the car.’
He replaced the lid and slumped into his pillows. ‘Never mind. I’ll drink it later. If it kills me, I’m in the best place, right?’
We both laughed.
No matter how dire the circumstance, Harry had an inimitable way of
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