Read Online Lemons 03 Stroke of Genius by Grant Fieldgrove - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Grant Fieldgrove
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I’ve kept the language to a minimum since then.)
“Thank you! Fancy restaurant it is!”
We wandered around for a while looking for a place that would pass muster with my insanely high standards. We settled on some Chinese place, the name of which I can’t even remember. The Stray Kitten or some shit like that, I dunno. Anyway, we got a secluded table towards the far corner of the restaurant. It was nice and quiet, still a bit too early for the dinner crowd and a little too late for the lunch crowd. It was perfect.
Elise pulled out a small notebook and pen from her purse and we began listing the facts in bullet points down the page. I used my phone to Google details of the rape. Things began coming together nicely.
The timeline we were able to form was basic and desperately in need of some filling in, but it was a good enough starting point.
Late Monday night, Balls and Vincent return to their hotel, intoxicated, and sit at a blackjack table, where they pretty much spend the rest of the night, the money fluctuating from high to low and back again, until Balls hits a losing streak and decides to take a breather. He gets up, presumably goes to the elevator, taking it to his floor, and then, according to the data provided from the computerized door locks, enters his room where he eventually dies.
Now, according to the article I am reading about the rape, it says the victim was abducted from the Myra Hotel in the early morning of Tuesday, December ninth, the same day that our victim died. The article doesn’t feature too many more facts and is pretty vague about the story telling. I have a feeling a lot of it was kept under wraps from the hotel. It does, however, state that the investigating officer is named Clint Howard (I assume it’s not THEE Clint Howard) and he is still working on the case. He would be our next lead. We needed to track him down. I also needed to find out the name of the hotel’s house dick and speak with him. He would have been involved in both cases and could possibly offer up the most assistance, if he was willing.
Our food arrived and Elise buried herself in it like she hadn’t eaten since August. I ate my food like a human.
11.
We arrived at the LVPD shortly after finishing our lupper. Or linner. Or Lunchy McDinner. Whichever. Turns out, Detective Howard was in the building. We explained our situation to the front desk and the homely old lady allowed us to take a brief meeting with him. Five minutes later we are sitting in a stereotypical detective’s office, before us sits a rather non-stereotypical detective. He is rail thin, with longer than your average cops hair, no mustache. No ashtray on his desk, no stray papers. He had a clean look about him and his clean shave made him appear much younger than I suspect he really way. The craziest thing about him, though was that he was polite. No hard-assness to him. It was a refreshing change from what I was used to dealing with.
“How may I help you folks?” he asked, standing up and reaching across his desk to shake our hands. “I’m Detective Clint Howard by the way.”
“Big fan of your work. I met you at a Fangoria convention probably seven years ago. You look different…”
“Oh yes, the infamous Clint Howard,” he said, with a good humored smile on his face. “I wish. I wish.”
“Thanks for not being offended by my lame joke,” I said. “I’m used to the Bakersfield PD. Shit like that will get your shot over there.”
“I’ve been through Bakersfield many a time. So what’s on your mind?”
The food had apparently cured Elise from her hangover as she took her usual cue to interrupt me and take over the conversation. “My name is Elise, and this is Archie. We were hired to work a case about a young man who died last Tuesday morning at the Myra Hotel and Casino. We understand that you were there that day, perhaps on two occasions?”
“Would this be the man who was killed while, pardon me, ma’am, but while he
“Thank you! Fancy restaurant it is!”
We wandered around for a while looking for a place that would pass muster with my insanely high standards. We settled on some Chinese place, the name of which I can’t even remember. The Stray Kitten or some shit like that, I dunno. Anyway, we got a secluded table towards the far corner of the restaurant. It was nice and quiet, still a bit too early for the dinner crowd and a little too late for the lunch crowd. It was perfect.
Elise pulled out a small notebook and pen from her purse and we began listing the facts in bullet points down the page. I used my phone to Google details of the rape. Things began coming together nicely.
The timeline we were able to form was basic and desperately in need of some filling in, but it was a good enough starting point.
Late Monday night, Balls and Vincent return to their hotel, intoxicated, and sit at a blackjack table, where they pretty much spend the rest of the night, the money fluctuating from high to low and back again, until Balls hits a losing streak and decides to take a breather. He gets up, presumably goes to the elevator, taking it to his floor, and then, according to the data provided from the computerized door locks, enters his room where he eventually dies.
Now, according to the article I am reading about the rape, it says the victim was abducted from the Myra Hotel in the early morning of Tuesday, December ninth, the same day that our victim died. The article doesn’t feature too many more facts and is pretty vague about the story telling. I have a feeling a lot of it was kept under wraps from the hotel. It does, however, state that the investigating officer is named Clint Howard (I assume it’s not THEE Clint Howard) and he is still working on the case. He would be our next lead. We needed to track him down. I also needed to find out the name of the hotel’s house dick and speak with him. He would have been involved in both cases and could possibly offer up the most assistance, if he was willing.
Our food arrived and Elise buried herself in it like she hadn’t eaten since August. I ate my food like a human.
11.
We arrived at the LVPD shortly after finishing our lupper. Or linner. Or Lunchy McDinner. Whichever. Turns out, Detective Howard was in the building. We explained our situation to the front desk and the homely old lady allowed us to take a brief meeting with him. Five minutes later we are sitting in a stereotypical detective’s office, before us sits a rather non-stereotypical detective. He is rail thin, with longer than your average cops hair, no mustache. No ashtray on his desk, no stray papers. He had a clean look about him and his clean shave made him appear much younger than I suspect he really way. The craziest thing about him, though was that he was polite. No hard-assness to him. It was a refreshing change from what I was used to dealing with.
“How may I help you folks?” he asked, standing up and reaching across his desk to shake our hands. “I’m Detective Clint Howard by the way.”
“Big fan of your work. I met you at a Fangoria convention probably seven years ago. You look different…”
“Oh yes, the infamous Clint Howard,” he said, with a good humored smile on his face. “I wish. I wish.”
“Thanks for not being offended by my lame joke,” I said. “I’m used to the Bakersfield PD. Shit like that will get your shot over there.”
“I’ve been through Bakersfield many a time. So what’s on your mind?”
The food had apparently cured Elise from her hangover as she took her usual cue to interrupt me and take over the conversation. “My name is Elise, and this is Archie. We were hired to work a case about a young man who died last Tuesday morning at the Myra Hotel and Casino. We understand that you were there that day, perhaps on two occasions?”
“Would this be the man who was killed while, pardon me, ma’am, but while he
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