Read Online No Pity For the Dead by Nancy Herriman - Free Book Online

response, “I think it’s pretty clear why I’ve come to talk to you, Mrs. Hutchinson. I should let you know that we’ll be interviewing all of the partners at Martin and Company. Checking on their whereabouts and their relationship to a man named Virgil Nash.”
    Jane Hutchinson’s gaze flickered, and she released her grip on Celia Davies’ hand. “Is he the dead man?”
    â€œDo you know him, ma’am?” he asked.
    â€œYes,” she said. “Well, I know
of
him more than I actually know him. He’s a very successful importation merchant, from what I understand. He and his wife have a large home on Rincon Hill. You can easily see it from Second Street.”
    Nick had read something recently in the newspaper about Second Street, but he couldn’t remember what.
    â€œThe handsome white one with all the columns and the gorgeous gardens?” Mrs. Davies asked. “I do so admire their roses. They are growing some of the new pink-and-cream General Washington roses that are so very lovely.”
    She sounded wistful, but then Nick knew what her roses looked like.
    â€œThat very house, Celia,” said Mrs. Hutchinson.
    â€œWhat was his business with Martin and Company?” asked Nick.
    â€œMr. Nash engaged their services in certain real estate deals. Seeking locations for new warehouses, was what I’d been told. Frank doesn’t talk about the business much, though. Not at home,” she explained. “And I can’t say exactly what happened, but I think there’d been some sort of a problem with Mr. Nash a while ago. A bit of a row. Didn’t Jasper tell you about it?”
    No, he hadn’t.
So what was it that Jasper Martin didn’t want me to know?
“What did your husband think of Virgil Nash?”
    â€œMy husband rarely shares his opinions of the men he does business with, Detective,” said Mrs. Hutchinson, her hands twisting together in her lap.
    â€œMa’am, I wouldn’t advise keeping the truth from me.” At her side, Celia Davies blushed. What did
she
know? “Mrs. Davies? Have something to say?”
    She hesitated, stealing glances at her friend before answering. “Owen witnessed an argument between Frank and a man missing part of one arm. Owen did not say which arm, but . . .”
    The corpse was missing part of his right arm. Virgil Nash was missing part of his right arm. And now this. It wasn’t much of a leap to assume the men were all one and the same. And she’d known, and not told him.
    â€œDo you want me to arrest you for interfering with an investigation?” he asked.
    â€œMr. Greaves, really—”
    â€œI’m not joking, Mrs. Davies.”
    Celia Davies glared but pressed her lips together.
    â€œAll right. I admit that Frank didn’t like Virgil Nash,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “But the dislike arose purely because of the man’s resistance to the Second Street cut. Nothing that would lead to violence, if you’re telling me that it’s Mr. Nash buried in the cellar of my husband’s business.”
    Another cut. That was what he’d read in the newspaper. The men who owned property near the wharves at the foot of Second Street wanted to level the road between the city and the piers, which right now climbed steeply over Rincon Hill, in order to ease movement between the two points. Cuts had happened in numerous locations in town, attempts to tame the hills, and the people who lived alongside them often found their houses stranded twenty, thirty feet in the air above the new road. Rincon Hill, home to the fashionable, would lose its treasured isolation if the cut occurred.
When
the cut occurred, since not much stood in the way of development in San Francisco. Not even Virgil Nash.
    Nick eyed Jane Hutchinson, whose composure impressedhim. Not so delicate, after all. “I gather the partners wanted the contract for the