two of us.”
“We’re paying him. Besides, with the kind of combat training Gerson’s had, he might be of some aid out there in the wilds. I’ll tell him to be ready. What time?”
“About six. This Qwen is a kind of peculiar fellow. It wouldn’t surprise me if he refused to take him along.”
“Gerson’s peculiar, too. That’s why they assigned him to head up our security. Maybe they’ll get along. Be careful out there. I’ve been going over Ann’s report,” he added, indicating the folder on his desk. “Apparently opening a door was quite basic for him and someone must have left that hall window open just enough for him to get his snoot into it so he could push it up.”
“No, he’s not going to have any problem getting out of a building.”
“Which means the opposite is also true.”
“Sir?”
“He won’t have any problem getting into one either,” the director said.
4
H ARRY M ICHAELS G OT the phone call just as he sat down to have his dinner. Jenny shook the wooden spoonful of mashed potatoes over his plate with a vengeance. He was a half hour late as it was, and everything was overcooked. Even after thirty-one years of marriage, his wife had not gotten used to the unpredictability of their lives. They rarely had a serious fight about it. Her anger was usually directed at other targets: at herself for trying to lead a normal existence; at the community, which had no respect for its public servants; careless automobile drivers who never thought about other people; criminals who were growing in number; and fate, which had something against her serving a meal when it was hot and ready. Harry usually let her go on and on about it until her fuel ran down and she settled into a quiet tolerance. He never put up an argument. After all, she was right.
Jenny slapped the pot of potatoes back on the stove when Harry went to answer the phone. He could hear her mumbling behind him, sounding like a small outboard motor just starting.
“Michaels,” he said. The forkful of potato was still on his tongue.
“It’s Julie, Chief. Charley Strasser just found his father dead in the backyard. Clark went up.”
“Aw, too bad. I’m on my way. Did you call the coroner?”
“Dr. Hamilton’s on the way. The ambulance squad too.”
“All right,” he said and hung up. Jenny saw the expression on his face.
“What?”
“Ken Strasser was just found dead behind his house. His son found him.”
“Oh my God.” She bit her lower lip gently and they stared at each other. “He was the kind you think’s goin’ to live forever. Couldn’t have been a nicer person.”
“Yep.”
“I’ll hold the dinner,” she said.
“Might be a while.”
“Nothin’ new about that. Must’ve been a terrible shock for Charley. I feel so bad for him.”
He said nothing. She watched him strap on his pistol, slip into his jacket, and slap on his hat. Even though she complained regularly, she couldn’t help being proud of him when he donned his police uniform. She knew there were those who sneered at a small town police force for being unsophisticated and simple, but Harry had never let that get to him. Although his men and their operation of law enforcement didn’t seem as spit-polished as some big city forces, there was a quiet efficiency evident. She knew that Harry was respected by the sheriff and the state police. There were all sorts of letters of commendation and thanks in the den. To many, because of his longevity in office and his commanding personality, Harry had become Mr. Fallsburg.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said.
“Be careful. Tell Charley how sorry I am.”
“Right.”
He headed out to the car. After he started it andpulled away from the house, he remembered Sid Kaufman’s saying that he had been unable to contact Ken Strasser. Perhaps it was an irrelevant detail, but all his years of police training on the job had taught him never to neglect any piece of information, no matter how
“We’re paying him. Besides, with the kind of combat training Gerson’s had, he might be of some aid out there in the wilds. I’ll tell him to be ready. What time?”
“About six. This Qwen is a kind of peculiar fellow. It wouldn’t surprise me if he refused to take him along.”
“Gerson’s peculiar, too. That’s why they assigned him to head up our security. Maybe they’ll get along. Be careful out there. I’ve been going over Ann’s report,” he added, indicating the folder on his desk. “Apparently opening a door was quite basic for him and someone must have left that hall window open just enough for him to get his snoot into it so he could push it up.”
“No, he’s not going to have any problem getting out of a building.”
“Which means the opposite is also true.”
“Sir?”
“He won’t have any problem getting into one either,” the director said.
4
H ARRY M ICHAELS G OT the phone call just as he sat down to have his dinner. Jenny shook the wooden spoonful of mashed potatoes over his plate with a vengeance. He was a half hour late as it was, and everything was overcooked. Even after thirty-one years of marriage, his wife had not gotten used to the unpredictability of their lives. They rarely had a serious fight about it. Her anger was usually directed at other targets: at herself for trying to lead a normal existence; at the community, which had no respect for its public servants; careless automobile drivers who never thought about other people; criminals who were growing in number; and fate, which had something against her serving a meal when it was hot and ready. Harry usually let her go on and on about it until her fuel ran down and she settled into a quiet tolerance. He never put up an argument. After all, she was right.
Jenny slapped the pot of potatoes back on the stove when Harry went to answer the phone. He could hear her mumbling behind him, sounding like a small outboard motor just starting.
“Michaels,” he said. The forkful of potato was still on his tongue.
“It’s Julie, Chief. Charley Strasser just found his father dead in the backyard. Clark went up.”
“Aw, too bad. I’m on my way. Did you call the coroner?”
“Dr. Hamilton’s on the way. The ambulance squad too.”
“All right,” he said and hung up. Jenny saw the expression on his face.
“What?”
“Ken Strasser was just found dead behind his house. His son found him.”
“Oh my God.” She bit her lower lip gently and they stared at each other. “He was the kind you think’s goin’ to live forever. Couldn’t have been a nicer person.”
“Yep.”
“I’ll hold the dinner,” she said.
“Might be a while.”
“Nothin’ new about that. Must’ve been a terrible shock for Charley. I feel so bad for him.”
He said nothing. She watched him strap on his pistol, slip into his jacket, and slap on his hat. Even though she complained regularly, she couldn’t help being proud of him when he donned his police uniform. She knew there were those who sneered at a small town police force for being unsophisticated and simple, but Harry had never let that get to him. Although his men and their operation of law enforcement didn’t seem as spit-polished as some big city forces, there was a quiet efficiency evident. She knew that Harry was respected by the sheriff and the state police. There were all sorts of letters of commendation and thanks in the den. To many, because of his longevity in office and his commanding personality, Harry had become Mr. Fallsburg.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said.
“Be careful. Tell Charley how sorry I am.”
“Right.”
He headed out to the car. After he started it andpulled away from the house, he remembered Sid Kaufman’s saying that he had been unable to contact Ken Strasser. Perhaps it was an irrelevant detail, but all his years of police training on the job had taught him never to neglect any piece of information, no matter how
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