Read Online Streets of Death - Dell Shannon by Dell Shannon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dell Shannon
Ads: Link
There
was a curious purity of outline to her wide forehead, and that mass
of tawny hair--she looked like a Saxon madonna. But this story--this
impossible tale--and there, just one second, she had flinched over
something.
"And found your husband gone? Missing from his
wheelchair. Did you look for a suicide note?"
"Yes, yes, yes. I would have thought he would
leave such a note, if he meant to kill himself. There was nothing. I
looked all about the apartment building, I thought if he had jumped
out a window--"
"But he couldn’t have jumped," said
Conway.
"No, no, a figure of speech. I have said all
this before, it must be in reports. There was no one else in the
house except the old man, Offerdahl. He was drunk, he could not say
anything. I said, since we are living there, just a few times when I
came home Edwin had been drinking, and it is this Offerdahl who has
done it, brought him drink. I did not----"
"Did it make him less despondent'?" asked
Conway deadpan.
"No, it did not! It was very bad for him. All
this, it is all I can tell you. When I had looked, I called the
police and told them. Then this Carey came, and his men, and asked
questions and looked at the apartment, and they did not believe me.
Do you want to look at my apartment also?"
"Why, I think we would," said Mendoza
cheerfully.
"Thanks so much, Mrs. Fleming."
She stood up abruptly. "I will get you the key."
They watched her stalk past the curtain. "Now
that is some blonde," said Conway. "Different type than I
expected. And a very, very nice act. She’s smart not to try to ham
it up with my God what’s happened to poor darling Edwin, I don’t
think she’s that good an actress."
"You could be right," said Mendoza
meditatively, and Galeano exploded at them.
"My good God in heaven, a child in arms could
see that girl’s as innocent and honest as--as a nun!" he said
furiously. "Of course she’s not acting, she wouldn’t know
how--I know what the story sounds like, but I’ll be Goddamned if I
don’t believe it, that girl is as transparently honest as--as--"
" ¡Qué hombre! "
said Mendoza, staring at him. "Don’t tell me our confirmed
bachelor has fallen for a suspect."
"You go to hell, of course I haven’t fallen
for her, if you want to be vulgar," said Galeano. "But I’d
think anybody could see--" He stopped as the curtains came apart
and she marched up to Mendoza, stiffly erect.
" Here is the key. You will know the address. I
ask only that you return it before I must go home, I have no other.
There are no secrets there, you may look as you please."
"Thanks so much," said Mendoza. She marched
out again, her shoulders squared. "Saint Nicholas to the defense
of accused womanhood! We don’t need Carey to point out obvious
facts. Who had a motive to be rid of him?"
"You’re only inferring that, as the cheap
Goddamned cynics you both are," said Galeano hotly. "For
all we know, she was still mad in love with him--"
"Ha-ha," said Conway. "And you’ve
been on the force how long?"
"Peace, niños ,"
said Mendoza. "Since the lady handed over the key so obligingly,
I’ll believe her that far, there aren’t any secrets there. But
I’d like to see the wheelchair, and the general terrain. Come on."
He and Conway went on discussing it on the way over
there in the Ferrari, while Galeano sat in silence in the little jump
seat behind. For the first time he realized that this job held a
built-in hazard, just as she’d said: too many cops, from too much
experience, automatically expected the lies, the hypocrisy, the
guilt. Conway was a cynic from the word go, but Galeano would have
expected more insight from the boss. That girl was so shiningly
honest--and when you thought what she’d been through-- And then to
have all the cops come poking around suspecting her, Dio ,
it was a wonder she’d been as polite as she had.
But just what, inquired the remnant of his common
sense, had happened to Edwin Fleming? It was raining again. (Just why
had she
was a curious purity of outline to her wide forehead, and that mass
of tawny hair--she looked like a Saxon madonna. But this story--this
impossible tale--and there, just one second, she had flinched over
something.
"And found your husband gone? Missing from his
wheelchair. Did you look for a suicide note?"
"Yes, yes, yes. I would have thought he would
leave such a note, if he meant to kill himself. There was nothing. I
looked all about the apartment building, I thought if he had jumped
out a window--"
"But he couldn’t have jumped," said
Conway.
"No, no, a figure of speech. I have said all
this before, it must be in reports. There was no one else in the
house except the old man, Offerdahl. He was drunk, he could not say
anything. I said, since we are living there, just a few times when I
came home Edwin had been drinking, and it is this Offerdahl who has
done it, brought him drink. I did not----"
"Did it make him less despondent'?" asked
Conway deadpan.
"No, it did not! It was very bad for him. All
this, it is all I can tell you. When I had looked, I called the
police and told them. Then this Carey came, and his men, and asked
questions and looked at the apartment, and they did not believe me.
Do you want to look at my apartment also?"
"Why, I think we would," said Mendoza
cheerfully.
"Thanks so much, Mrs. Fleming."
She stood up abruptly. "I will get you the key."
They watched her stalk past the curtain. "Now
that is some blonde," said Conway. "Different type than I
expected. And a very, very nice act. She’s smart not to try to ham
it up with my God what’s happened to poor darling Edwin, I don’t
think she’s that good an actress."
"You could be right," said Mendoza
meditatively, and Galeano exploded at them.
"My good God in heaven, a child in arms could
see that girl’s as innocent and honest as--as a nun!" he said
furiously. "Of course she’s not acting, she wouldn’t know
how--I know what the story sounds like, but I’ll be Goddamned if I
don’t believe it, that girl is as transparently honest as--as--"
" ¡Qué hombre! "
said Mendoza, staring at him. "Don’t tell me our confirmed
bachelor has fallen for a suspect."
"You go to hell, of course I haven’t fallen
for her, if you want to be vulgar," said Galeano. "But I’d
think anybody could see--" He stopped as the curtains came apart
and she marched up to Mendoza, stiffly erect.
" Here is the key. You will know the address. I
ask only that you return it before I must go home, I have no other.
There are no secrets there, you may look as you please."
"Thanks so much," said Mendoza. She marched
out again, her shoulders squared. "Saint Nicholas to the defense
of accused womanhood! We don’t need Carey to point out obvious
facts. Who had a motive to be rid of him?"
"You’re only inferring that, as the cheap
Goddamned cynics you both are," said Galeano hotly. "For
all we know, she was still mad in love with him--"
"Ha-ha," said Conway. "And you’ve
been on the force how long?"
"Peace, niños ,"
said Mendoza. "Since the lady handed over the key so obligingly,
I’ll believe her that far, there aren’t any secrets there. But
I’d like to see the wheelchair, and the general terrain. Come on."
He and Conway went on discussing it on the way over
there in the Ferrari, while Galeano sat in silence in the little jump
seat behind. For the first time he realized that this job held a
built-in hazard, just as she’d said: too many cops, from too much
experience, automatically expected the lies, the hypocrisy, the
guilt. Conway was a cynic from the word go, but Galeano would have
expected more insight from the boss. That girl was so shiningly
honest--and when you thought what she’d been through-- And then to
have all the cops come poking around suspecting her, Dio ,
it was a wonder she’d been as polite as she had.
But just what, inquired the remnant of his common
sense, had happened to Edwin Fleming? It was raining again. (Just why
had she
Similar Books
