Read Online Murder by Candlelight by John Stockmyer - Free Book Online
Authors: John Stockmyer
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detectives is less than good.
Crooks, with licenses to snoop around, is what most people
think."
In Z's case, without
a license . But Z
did take the man's point. A "gumshoe's" reputation was a seedy one,
his own included.
"But I want to be fair about it. I'm
covering all kinds of law enforcement: street cops, big city
detectives, county sheriffs, highway patrol." Z could sense the man
counting on his fingers. "And private detectives, who are quasi-law
enforcement. If the police can't get action who do you call? Not
Ghostbusters, but your friendly, neighborhood private investigator.
Private dicks are society's back-up to failed police
work."
Z had always considered himself to be
in law enforcement, whether regular cops, like Captain Scherer,
agreed or not. It was just that Z was such a little fish in the
private investigator pond ....
"Why me?"
"Why not you?"
"There are big agencies."
"True. But, I feel I know you. Even
though we didn't run around together back in high school. I saw you
play. Anyway, I live north-of-the-river. It'd be easier to
interview you. We could do it in the evening. You wouldn't have to
come to the station. There's no money in this, you see. Just public
service."
Z didn't know what to say.
"I'm doing this series because crime
has gotten out of hand. Even in the Northland. Take that murder a
few days ago, for instance."
Suddenly, Dan -- the whatever --
Jewell had Z's full attention!
"The police are no nearer a solution
than they were when they found the body. Could be mob-related, of
course, professional killings always more difficult to solve than
family murder. Nonetheless, something must be done!"
What Z wanted to know was if the talk
show host had special knowledge about the Kunkle death -- one of
Jewell's "fans" calling in a tip that implicated Z -- or if
Jewell's bringing up the Kunkle affair was just a
coincidence.
"Actually, you'll be doing me a favor
either way. Now that I've invited you, if you give me a little of
your time, that's just great! If you refuse, I'll be forced to say
I asked a certain local P.I., a Mr. Bob Zapolska, to talk to me but
that, for some reason, he refused. The way the public takes a
refusal like that is to figure the person who's ducked out has
something to hide. So my advice is to talk to me. That way, you can
put whatever spin on things you want, if you get my
meaning."
"Yeah." And Z had gotten the D.J.'s
meaning. The man would stoop to blackmail to get what he wanted.
Not that Z gave a damn. Wanting to see if Jewell knew ... anything
... was why he said: "Yes."
"Great!"
"A condition."
"Shoot."
"That we just talk."
"You don't want to go on the air, is
that it?"
"Right."
"No problem."
"And not quoted."
"Actually, the detective segment is a
small part of the show. I just want to hear an honest P.I. tell of
the services to the community a detective agency can offer. Skip
tracing runaways. Deprogramming kids enslaved by cults
...."
"Never done that."
"I was just putting you in the
picture. ... So. I'll get back to you. Probably be an evening.
Probably soon. In my pad at the Valley Forge
apartments."
"OK."
"Until then, this is Dan -- 'the D.J.'
-- Jewell, signing off!"
Click.
Feeling like wreckage in the wake of a
cyclone, Z recovered to regret agreeing to talk to the radio show
idiot. Would never have done so except for the possibility the man
might know something about Z's involvement in Kunkle's
death.
Was it possible, just as a for
instance, that Bud Izard had said something to Dan -- the Asshole
-- Jewell?
Paranoid! Z was getting
paranoid.
The phone rang again, Z snatching it
up reflexively, half expecting it to be the police. "Hi, guess
who?" Said before Z could get in a word.
"Who?"
"You mean to say you've
forgotten me already ?"
Unfortunately, no, now that he'd heard
more of her sexy voice.
"Jamie."
"That's better. A girl's ego is a
fragile thing."
Jamie -- the girl Z had been with on a
recent stakeout -- Jamie Stewart, girl
Crooks, with licenses to snoop around, is what most people
think."
In Z's case, without
a license . But Z
did take the man's point. A "gumshoe's" reputation was a seedy one,
his own included.
"But I want to be fair about it. I'm
covering all kinds of law enforcement: street cops, big city
detectives, county sheriffs, highway patrol." Z could sense the man
counting on his fingers. "And private detectives, who are quasi-law
enforcement. If the police can't get action who do you call? Not
Ghostbusters, but your friendly, neighborhood private investigator.
Private dicks are society's back-up to failed police
work."
Z had always considered himself to be
in law enforcement, whether regular cops, like Captain Scherer,
agreed or not. It was just that Z was such a little fish in the
private investigator pond ....
"Why me?"
"Why not you?"
"There are big agencies."
"True. But, I feel I know you. Even
though we didn't run around together back in high school. I saw you
play. Anyway, I live north-of-the-river. It'd be easier to
interview you. We could do it in the evening. You wouldn't have to
come to the station. There's no money in this, you see. Just public
service."
Z didn't know what to say.
"I'm doing this series because crime
has gotten out of hand. Even in the Northland. Take that murder a
few days ago, for instance."
Suddenly, Dan -- the whatever --
Jewell had Z's full attention!
"The police are no nearer a solution
than they were when they found the body. Could be mob-related, of
course, professional killings always more difficult to solve than
family murder. Nonetheless, something must be done!"
What Z wanted to know was if the talk
show host had special knowledge about the Kunkle death -- one of
Jewell's "fans" calling in a tip that implicated Z -- or if
Jewell's bringing up the Kunkle affair was just a
coincidence.
"Actually, you'll be doing me a favor
either way. Now that I've invited you, if you give me a little of
your time, that's just great! If you refuse, I'll be forced to say
I asked a certain local P.I., a Mr. Bob Zapolska, to talk to me but
that, for some reason, he refused. The way the public takes a
refusal like that is to figure the person who's ducked out has
something to hide. So my advice is to talk to me. That way, you can
put whatever spin on things you want, if you get my
meaning."
"Yeah." And Z had gotten the D.J.'s
meaning. The man would stoop to blackmail to get what he wanted.
Not that Z gave a damn. Wanting to see if Jewell knew ... anything
... was why he said: "Yes."
"Great!"
"A condition."
"Shoot."
"That we just talk."
"You don't want to go on the air, is
that it?"
"Right."
"No problem."
"And not quoted."
"Actually, the detective segment is a
small part of the show. I just want to hear an honest P.I. tell of
the services to the community a detective agency can offer. Skip
tracing runaways. Deprogramming kids enslaved by cults
...."
"Never done that."
"I was just putting you in the
picture. ... So. I'll get back to you. Probably be an evening.
Probably soon. In my pad at the Valley Forge
apartments."
"OK."
"Until then, this is Dan -- 'the D.J.'
-- Jewell, signing off!"
Click.
Feeling like wreckage in the wake of a
cyclone, Z recovered to regret agreeing to talk to the radio show
idiot. Would never have done so except for the possibility the man
might know something about Z's involvement in Kunkle's
death.
Was it possible, just as a for
instance, that Bud Izard had said something to Dan -- the Asshole
-- Jewell?
Paranoid! Z was getting
paranoid.
The phone rang again, Z snatching it
up reflexively, half expecting it to be the police. "Hi, guess
who?" Said before Z could get in a word.
"Who?"
"You mean to say you've
forgotten me already ?"
Unfortunately, no, now that he'd heard
more of her sexy voice.
"Jamie."
"That's better. A girl's ego is a
fragile thing."
Jamie -- the girl Z had been with on a
recent stakeout -- Jamie Stewart, girl
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