Read Online Murder at the Book Fair by Steve Demaree - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steve Demaree
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still say we didn't
kill him."
"Who came to the Book Fair
with you? Who walked around with you?"
"No one."
"So that means that no one
can verify that you didn't poison your brother."
"We ain't got no poison. Look
around. You'll see."
"Maybe you only had enough to
poison your brother. You don't plan to poison anyone else, do you?"
"We ain't ever had no poison.
Well, only what we got to kill those rats."
"I think that's the kind of
poison they said killed him. Rat poison. Should we take them in now, Lou?"
"No, wait. It wasn't
us."
"Who was it, then?"
"I don't know. We never saw
him. We don't know who else hated him enough to kill him."
"So, what did you do with
the $50,000 he gave you last month?"
"We ain't got no $50,000. He
didn't give us none. And if he said he did, he was lying like a hound
dog."
"Fifty thousand dollars is
easy to find. If we find where you hid it, or where you spent a chunk of it,
we'll be back."
"I told you we ain't got no
money. Did somebody steal $50,000 from him? If so, and if he left that money to
us, you'd better find him. I want my money. Hazel, if he left us enough we can
quit our jobs."
"Who else would he have left
it to, Archie? The money has to be ours. We're rich!"
"Usually they hold off on
giving out the money until they find out who the murderer is."
"Well, get out of here and
find whoever did it! I want my money!"
"If I find out you have
anywhere near $50,000 in the bank, I'll be back."
"If we had anywhere near
$50,000 in the bank or otherwise, we wouldn't be living here."
"We may be back later."
"Hey, wait a minute! How much
did he leave us?"
"I didn't say he left you
anything. If the phone rings, I'd answer it if I were you. It might be that
lawyer calling, telling you where to pick up your dollar. He might even invite
you to the reading of the will, so you can see who gets most of the
money."
"It should be us. We was kin.
He ain't got no other kin."
"Maybe you should have sent
him a birthday card each year. It might have improved your chances of hitting
the mother lode."
With that I grabbed hold of the
couch arm and lifted myself up. We walked out and I called Bert McHugh. I asked
him to wait until we had finished our investigation before he had the reading
of the will, and not to answer any questions if Portwood's brother or sister
called. He assured me that he would definitely wait.
I ended the call and turned to
Lou.
"You were tough on them,
Cy."
"I know. I was trying to see
if either of them would crack and admit to murdering the guy, or blame it on
the other one. I wish I knew if the poison was administered to the sandwich or
shaken into the bottle of water he had at lunch. Let's call it a night. Are you
hungry?"
"Not as much after you talk
about poisoned sandwiches."
"Then, don't order a
sandwich."
15
Broadway in Frankfort isn't filled with neon lights
burning bright, but there is a railroad track that runs down the middle of it.
We found a place to park on Broadway, not far from Serafini's, almost in front
of Poor Richard's Bookstore. We backtracked until we got to the restaurant. We
didn't dawdle because it was a little nippy out, and it was dark.
The restaurant was crowded, but we
were seated shortly after we walked in the door. We looked over the menu while
our server brought us our water with lemon, which was our drink of choice.
After perusing the menu, I decided on Spicy Shrimp Pomodoro, while Lou opted
for Chicken Marsala. We were working on a case again, so we refrained from
talking about the murder and instead talked about what a nice town Frankfort was. There certainly were some
good places downtown to eat and places of interest to visit. And we hadn't even
visited the Capitol building or Daniel Boone's grave. I wondered if anyone
named Boone ever visits that grave. I imagine they have.
A little over an hour after we sat
down to eat I pulled into the covered parking area at the Capital Plaza . We refrained from
kill him."
"Who came to the Book Fair
with you? Who walked around with you?"
"No one."
"So that means that no one
can verify that you didn't poison your brother."
"We ain't got no poison. Look
around. You'll see."
"Maybe you only had enough to
poison your brother. You don't plan to poison anyone else, do you?"
"We ain't ever had no poison.
Well, only what we got to kill those rats."
"I think that's the kind of
poison they said killed him. Rat poison. Should we take them in now, Lou?"
"No, wait. It wasn't
us."
"Who was it, then?"
"I don't know. We never saw
him. We don't know who else hated him enough to kill him."
"So, what did you do with
the $50,000 he gave you last month?"
"We ain't got no $50,000. He
didn't give us none. And if he said he did, he was lying like a hound
dog."
"Fifty thousand dollars is
easy to find. If we find where you hid it, or where you spent a chunk of it,
we'll be back."
"I told you we ain't got no
money. Did somebody steal $50,000 from him? If so, and if he left that money to
us, you'd better find him. I want my money. Hazel, if he left us enough we can
quit our jobs."
"Who else would he have left
it to, Archie? The money has to be ours. We're rich!"
"Usually they hold off on
giving out the money until they find out who the murderer is."
"Well, get out of here and
find whoever did it! I want my money!"
"If I find out you have
anywhere near $50,000 in the bank, I'll be back."
"If we had anywhere near
$50,000 in the bank or otherwise, we wouldn't be living here."
"We may be back later."
"Hey, wait a minute! How much
did he leave us?"
"I didn't say he left you
anything. If the phone rings, I'd answer it if I were you. It might be that
lawyer calling, telling you where to pick up your dollar. He might even invite
you to the reading of the will, so you can see who gets most of the
money."
"It should be us. We was kin.
He ain't got no other kin."
"Maybe you should have sent
him a birthday card each year. It might have improved your chances of hitting
the mother lode."
With that I grabbed hold of the
couch arm and lifted myself up. We walked out and I called Bert McHugh. I asked
him to wait until we had finished our investigation before he had the reading
of the will, and not to answer any questions if Portwood's brother or sister
called. He assured me that he would definitely wait.
I ended the call and turned to
Lou.
"You were tough on them,
Cy."
"I know. I was trying to see
if either of them would crack and admit to murdering the guy, or blame it on
the other one. I wish I knew if the poison was administered to the sandwich or
shaken into the bottle of water he had at lunch. Let's call it a night. Are you
hungry?"
"Not as much after you talk
about poisoned sandwiches."
"Then, don't order a
sandwich."
15
Broadway in Frankfort isn't filled with neon lights
burning bright, but there is a railroad track that runs down the middle of it.
We found a place to park on Broadway, not far from Serafini's, almost in front
of Poor Richard's Bookstore. We backtracked until we got to the restaurant. We
didn't dawdle because it was a little nippy out, and it was dark.
The restaurant was crowded, but we
were seated shortly after we walked in the door. We looked over the menu while
our server brought us our water with lemon, which was our drink of choice.
After perusing the menu, I decided on Spicy Shrimp Pomodoro, while Lou opted
for Chicken Marsala. We were working on a case again, so we refrained from
talking about the murder and instead talked about what a nice town Frankfort was. There certainly were some
good places downtown to eat and places of interest to visit. And we hadn't even
visited the Capitol building or Daniel Boone's grave. I wondered if anyone
named Boone ever visits that grave. I imagine they have.
A little over an hour after we sat
down to eat I pulled into the covered parking area at the Capital Plaza . We refrained from
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