Read Online Pickled (An Alex Harris Mystery) by Elaine Macko - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elaine Macko
Tags: An Alex Harris Mystery
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course you are.”
Chapter 16
Terry Roder was a nasty piece of work. He lived in a one-room apartment in an older and somewhat seedier part of Pirates Cove. The place reeked of grease and onions and whether he got a lot of take-out or liked frying stuff up on his one-burner stove, I had no idea. I placed Mr. Roder in his late forties and even though he seemed to have questionable eating habits, he was well built with strong arm muscles bulging from under his shirt. He obviously got more exercise than sitting in a car taking pictures of philandering husbands would provide.
“So, you’re helping Sophie look into her husband’s death. Aren’t the police doing that?” Mr. Roder leaned back in the only other chair in the room beside the one I currently occupied.
“Well, yes, of course they are. A murder was committed after all, but she was hoping I might be able to get to the bottom of things more quickly and keep certain, shall we say unsavory, aspects of her life out of the papers.”
“You mean like her husband bonking a few women down at the beach?”
“So you saw him?”
“Yeah, that’s what the wife was paying me to do and I got the pictures, but there wasn’t a lot of bonking going on. The old geezer didn’t have it in him, you know what I mean, but he still managed to get those women into his car. So I got to thinking, why would they do that? These were some good looking broads, you know what I mean?”
“So you followed those women?” I asked.
“For a while. But the one with red hair wasn’t doing anything. Just working with a bunch of kids. Tutoring or something. Now, the other one, the real looker, she likes men and they like her. Her husband owns a dealership and I figured she’d have a lot to lose if he found out what his wife was up to after those yoga classes or whatever they are, you know what I mean?”
I tried to keep judgment out of my voice. “Yes, I think I’m beginning to understand. So you threatened to tell her husband if she, what? Didn’t pay you? You were blackmailing her?”
Terry Roder ran his hands through his thick rust-colored hair and then clasped them behind his head. “That was my initial plan, but no. I got a call from Humphrey Bryson himself. He knew I was following him and knew I was following the two broads and wanted to know what I had on them. Wanted me to find out some stuff on some guy, too, a Mr. Wronkovich.
“Why Mr. Wronkovich?”
Mr. Roder shrugged. “Who knows. As long as I get paid, I’ll dig up dirt on anyone he wants. The guy’s in some calendar and if you ask me, I think Humphrey was pissed he wasn’t asked to be in it. So anyway, he started to pay me to feed him information on the looker. Marie. Marie Dupre. He already knew she was meeting some other guy on the side, but he wanted as much dirt as I could find.”
I put up my hand. “Stop. Wait a minute. Mrs. Bryson hires you to spy on her husband and then you turn around and give him all the information?”
“Hey, it wasn’t like I went to him. He called me. I guess I got a few things to learn about surveillance. But like I said, he found out I was watching him, gives me a call, and pays me to keep following Marie.”
“And are you still getting paid by Mrs. Bryson?” I asked incredulously.
“Sure. I’m not a total idiot. She’s the one who hired me, though now he’s dead I guess I can kiss that gig good-bye.”
“And you won’t be getting anything more from Humphrey either,” I said.
Terry Roder sat there staring at me and then it dawned on him. “Gee, I guess you’re right. I’m outta two jobs.”
“So when exactly did Mrs. Bryson first hire you?”
“About three months ago,” Terry said without missing a beat.
“And how long did it take Humphrey to catch on?”
Mr. Roder leaned forward, hung his head and laced his fingers together. “About two months, three and a half weeks ago.”
“So what exactly have you been giving to Mrs. Bryson all
Chapter 16
Terry Roder was a nasty piece of work. He lived in a one-room apartment in an older and somewhat seedier part of Pirates Cove. The place reeked of grease and onions and whether he got a lot of take-out or liked frying stuff up on his one-burner stove, I had no idea. I placed Mr. Roder in his late forties and even though he seemed to have questionable eating habits, he was well built with strong arm muscles bulging from under his shirt. He obviously got more exercise than sitting in a car taking pictures of philandering husbands would provide.
“So, you’re helping Sophie look into her husband’s death. Aren’t the police doing that?” Mr. Roder leaned back in the only other chair in the room beside the one I currently occupied.
“Well, yes, of course they are. A murder was committed after all, but she was hoping I might be able to get to the bottom of things more quickly and keep certain, shall we say unsavory, aspects of her life out of the papers.”
“You mean like her husband bonking a few women down at the beach?”
“So you saw him?”
“Yeah, that’s what the wife was paying me to do and I got the pictures, but there wasn’t a lot of bonking going on. The old geezer didn’t have it in him, you know what I mean, but he still managed to get those women into his car. So I got to thinking, why would they do that? These were some good looking broads, you know what I mean?”
“So you followed those women?” I asked.
“For a while. But the one with red hair wasn’t doing anything. Just working with a bunch of kids. Tutoring or something. Now, the other one, the real looker, she likes men and they like her. Her husband owns a dealership and I figured she’d have a lot to lose if he found out what his wife was up to after those yoga classes or whatever they are, you know what I mean?”
I tried to keep judgment out of my voice. “Yes, I think I’m beginning to understand. So you threatened to tell her husband if she, what? Didn’t pay you? You were blackmailing her?”
Terry Roder ran his hands through his thick rust-colored hair and then clasped them behind his head. “That was my initial plan, but no. I got a call from Humphrey Bryson himself. He knew I was following him and knew I was following the two broads and wanted to know what I had on them. Wanted me to find out some stuff on some guy, too, a Mr. Wronkovich.
“Why Mr. Wronkovich?”
Mr. Roder shrugged. “Who knows. As long as I get paid, I’ll dig up dirt on anyone he wants. The guy’s in some calendar and if you ask me, I think Humphrey was pissed he wasn’t asked to be in it. So anyway, he started to pay me to feed him information on the looker. Marie. Marie Dupre. He already knew she was meeting some other guy on the side, but he wanted as much dirt as I could find.”
I put up my hand. “Stop. Wait a minute. Mrs. Bryson hires you to spy on her husband and then you turn around and give him all the information?”
“Hey, it wasn’t like I went to him. He called me. I guess I got a few things to learn about surveillance. But like I said, he found out I was watching him, gives me a call, and pays me to keep following Marie.”
“And are you still getting paid by Mrs. Bryson?” I asked incredulously.
“Sure. I’m not a total idiot. She’s the one who hired me, though now he’s dead I guess I can kiss that gig good-bye.”
“And you won’t be getting anything more from Humphrey either,” I said.
Terry Roder sat there staring at me and then it dawned on him. “Gee, I guess you’re right. I’m outta two jobs.”
“So when exactly did Mrs. Bryson first hire you?”
“About three months ago,” Terry said without missing a beat.
“And how long did it take Humphrey to catch on?”
Mr. Roder leaned forward, hung his head and laced his fingers together. “About two months, three and a half weeks ago.”
“So what exactly have you been giving to Mrs. Bryson all
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