Read Online New Hope for the Dead by Charles Willeford - Free Book Online

And I just can’t make myself do it. Would you call and tell him for me? I think he ought to be told soon, because it wouldn’t be very pleasant for him to read about it in the papers or hear it on the radio.”
    “Jerry’s name won’t be released to the papers until they’ve checked with us that his next-of-kin’s been notified. The press is pretty decent about things like that. But I’ll call him if you want me to.” Hoke got to his feet. “Where does he live?”
    “At the Mercury Club, in Hallandale. I’ll get his number for you.”
    Harold Hickey, Hoke thought, must have a bundle. The Mercury Club was right on the ocean, with tight security, and had its own small marina. The Mercury Club was still restricted, too: no Jews, blacks, or Latins. When all of the civil rights legislation was considered, it cost a great deal of money to keep a private club restricted nowadays.
    Hoke dialed the number Mrs. Hickey gave him. After two rings, a voice came on the line. The voice was deep and husky; each word was enunciated self-consciously.
    “This is a recording. I am Harold Hickey, attorney at law. I am temporarily unable to answer the phone in person. In a moment or so, when I finish speaking, you willhear a tone. At that time, if you are so inclined, you may leave your name, phone number, and message. I will return your call at my earliest convenience.”
    Hoke waited for the tone, and said: “This is Detective-Sergeant Hoke Moseley, Homicide, Miami Police Department. Your son Gerald died this morning under peculiar circumstances. For additional information, call me after ten P.M. at my residence, the Eldorado Hotel, Miami Beach. Don’t give up too quickly.” Hoke gave the number, then added, “If you don’t call me at the hotel, you can reach me at Homicide, Miami police station, tomorrow after seven-thirty A.M. ”
    Hoke racked the phone and turned away. Loretta had an expression of dismay. “What was that all about? Were you talking to a recording?”
    “He wasn’t there, so I gave the machine the information.”
    “Jesus! You told the recording Jerry was dead? I could’ve done that myself. Except that I’d never tell a recording anyone was dead. That’ll be a shock to Harold when he plays it back. The reason I asked you to call him in the first place was I thought you could do it gently.”
    “There isn’t any gentle way to tell someone that a member of his family’s dead. The direct method’s as good as any. Besides, if Mr. Hickey was sensitive, he wouldn’t have a recording answer his telephone for him. By the time he calls me back, he’ll have had time to digest the news.”
    “You don’t know Harold.” She looked away, toward the bedrooms. “But at least he didn’t have to discover the body, the way I did.”
    “I think the coffee may be ready.”
    “Just a sec. I’ll see.”
    When Loretta returned with the coffee and cups on a tray, Hoke handed her the envelope containing $1,070 and asked her to count it. He then asked her to sign a receipt.
    “This money’s yours, or your ex-husband’s. Or you two can split it. But you’d better tell him about it.”
    Loretta Hickey nodded. “Suppose those two men come back? They might say it’s theirs.”
    “If they come back, call me.” Hoke put his card on the table. “Let me have your home and office number too.”
    She gave him the numbers, and Hoke wrote them down in his notebook.
    “Is this money evidence, Sergeant?”
    “No. I’ve got a list of the serial numbers, and that’s all I’ll need. If I were you, I’d put the money into your night deposit at the bank.”
    “I don’t think I want to leave the house tonight. Can’t you keep the money for now, and give it to me tomorrow at the shop?”
    “I suppose.” Hoke put the receipt into the envelope with the money, and returned the envelope to his jacket pocket. “Where do you work?”
    “I have my own shop, The Bouquetique, a flower and gift shop in the Gables, on Miracle