Read Online The Brink of Murder by Helen Nielsen - Free Book Online
Authors: Helen Nielsen
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airlines at LAX,” Simon said. “Nobody had Barney on the passenger list for any Friday night flight.”
“Then he’s using another name. We’ll check it out again with a photo for identification.”
Carole stirred in the chair. She looked at her wristwatch. “Eric, it’s after three,” she said. “Jake—”
“God, I almost forgot. I hate to leave you now.”
“Go ahead,” Simon said. “Jake knows you. He won’t be frightened if you pick him up. I’ll stay here until you get back.”
Eric went for Jake and everybody sat around picking through the mental débris left by Reardon’s bombshell. In a sense it was a relief to have something to work on no matter how ugly.
“It could be a coincidence,” Simon said at last. “Just because Barney’s gone off on a trip it doesn’t necessarily follow that he’s responsible for the shortage. There must be others at Pacific Guaranty who had access to the funds.”
“That’s being investigated too,” Reardon said. “But the one positive thing we have to work on is that the president of the association is missing.”
“But Barney wouldn’t steal,” Carole said. “Why would he? We have enough.”
“That’s the peculiar thing about embezzlement,” Reardon answered. “The people who do it usually do have enough—more than most of us, anyway. They get used to a life-style and if something goes wrong they can’t climb down from the ladder.”
“But nothing’s gone wrong.”
“We’ll know more about that when we get Barney’s financial statement.”
And Simon sat quietly with his own bombshell because, in addition to knowing how to talk, a good lawyer had to know when to keep his mouth shut. This was no time to tell Carole Amling about her husband’s property trust. In due time Eric Larson returned with Little Jake, who had been properly named. He resembled Carole’s side of the family: dark hair, small boned. Being a small boy he was hungry and the kitchen was his destination. Reardon slipped into the sleeves of his coat and prepared to leave and Simon decided to go with him.
“Do you have anyone who could stay with you?” Simon asked Carole at the door.
“I don’t need anyone. But I think I’ll take a raincheck on Kevin’s offer to sleep in my room tonight.”
“Do that. It will do him as much good as it does you.”
Outside in the courtyard Knox Reardon hunched his big shoulders against the wind and moved towards the black Cadillac that carried no medical shield. He stopped and looked back at the house and back at Simon who was following him. A plaintive sound came from one of the upstairs windows. An off-key clarinet being played by a ten-year-old boy with cookie crumbs in his mouth. Reardon shook his head helplessly.
“I guess I’ve known Barney Amling about twelve years,” he said. “Personally, that is. I even remember being on a guard detail at the Ambassador Hotel when they gave a banquet to honour pro’ football players and Barney was player of the year. I thought I’d learned to expect anything in my job.”
“I heard you and Barney had some trouble,” Simon said.
“Trouble? Oh, you mean about Kevin. I wouldn’t call that trouble, exactly. I gave Kevin a break, in fact. Some people think this juvenile delinquency problem only plagues the low economic classes. They have a rough time when it hits them. I told Barney to crack down on the boy and maybe he didn’t like it. Just the same, Kevin hasn’t been back in court again.” Reardon opened the door of the big car and slid in under the steering wheel. “Any way you look at it, Drake,” he added, “there’s one thing for sure. If there was any way to predict what any human being was going to do next, both of us would be looking for work.”
Reardon switched on the ignition and began to back out of the driveway. He never saw the boy on a motorcycle who started to turn into the drive as he was backing out. The boy took one look at the Cadillac, swung the
“Then he’s using another name. We’ll check it out again with a photo for identification.”
Carole stirred in the chair. She looked at her wristwatch. “Eric, it’s after three,” she said. “Jake—”
“God, I almost forgot. I hate to leave you now.”
“Go ahead,” Simon said. “Jake knows you. He won’t be frightened if you pick him up. I’ll stay here until you get back.”
Eric went for Jake and everybody sat around picking through the mental débris left by Reardon’s bombshell. In a sense it was a relief to have something to work on no matter how ugly.
“It could be a coincidence,” Simon said at last. “Just because Barney’s gone off on a trip it doesn’t necessarily follow that he’s responsible for the shortage. There must be others at Pacific Guaranty who had access to the funds.”
“That’s being investigated too,” Reardon said. “But the one positive thing we have to work on is that the president of the association is missing.”
“But Barney wouldn’t steal,” Carole said. “Why would he? We have enough.”
“That’s the peculiar thing about embezzlement,” Reardon answered. “The people who do it usually do have enough—more than most of us, anyway. They get used to a life-style and if something goes wrong they can’t climb down from the ladder.”
“But nothing’s gone wrong.”
“We’ll know more about that when we get Barney’s financial statement.”
And Simon sat quietly with his own bombshell because, in addition to knowing how to talk, a good lawyer had to know when to keep his mouth shut. This was no time to tell Carole Amling about her husband’s property trust. In due time Eric Larson returned with Little Jake, who had been properly named. He resembled Carole’s side of the family: dark hair, small boned. Being a small boy he was hungry and the kitchen was his destination. Reardon slipped into the sleeves of his coat and prepared to leave and Simon decided to go with him.
“Do you have anyone who could stay with you?” Simon asked Carole at the door.
“I don’t need anyone. But I think I’ll take a raincheck on Kevin’s offer to sleep in my room tonight.”
“Do that. It will do him as much good as it does you.”
Outside in the courtyard Knox Reardon hunched his big shoulders against the wind and moved towards the black Cadillac that carried no medical shield. He stopped and looked back at the house and back at Simon who was following him. A plaintive sound came from one of the upstairs windows. An off-key clarinet being played by a ten-year-old boy with cookie crumbs in his mouth. Reardon shook his head helplessly.
“I guess I’ve known Barney Amling about twelve years,” he said. “Personally, that is. I even remember being on a guard detail at the Ambassador Hotel when they gave a banquet to honour pro’ football players and Barney was player of the year. I thought I’d learned to expect anything in my job.”
“I heard you and Barney had some trouble,” Simon said.
“Trouble? Oh, you mean about Kevin. I wouldn’t call that trouble, exactly. I gave Kevin a break, in fact. Some people think this juvenile delinquency problem only plagues the low economic classes. They have a rough time when it hits them. I told Barney to crack down on the boy and maybe he didn’t like it. Just the same, Kevin hasn’t been back in court again.” Reardon opened the door of the big car and slid in under the steering wheel. “Any way you look at it, Drake,” he added, “there’s one thing for sure. If there was any way to predict what any human being was going to do next, both of us would be looking for work.”
Reardon switched on the ignition and began to back out of the driveway. He never saw the boy on a motorcycle who started to turn into the drive as he was backing out. The boy took one look at the Cadillac, swung the
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