Read Online The Case of the Kidnapped Angel: A Masao Masuto Mystery (Book Six) by Howard Fast - Free Book Online Page B

have every reason to believe that Mr. Barton was killed for the million dollars of ransom money. Why whoever received the ransom found it necessary to kill him, we don’t know. I’m hoping that one of you gentlemen can enlighten me.”
    â€œHave you spoken to Angel?” McCarthy asked. “She saw the kidnappers.”
    â€œYou spoke to her?”
    â€œWe both spoke to her,” Ranier said, “but she wouldn’t talk about it—”
    â€œShe couldn’t,” McCarthy interposed.
    â€œThen she couldn’t. The doctor said she was in shock. Then when she heard about Mike’s death, she went to pieces completely.”
    â€œWhere is she now?”
    â€œIn her room.”
    â€œWe have reason to believe,” Masuto said, “that the person who killed Mr. Barton was known to him, perhaps a good friend.”
    â€œMike had lots of friends.”
    â€œAnd no friends,” McCarthy put in. “You have friends when you earn less than two hundred thousand a year. Above that, you have appendages. When you’re a star, you have the star-fuckers, and the woods are full of them.”
    â€œWere you his friend?” Masuto asked gently.
    â€œI’m going to ignore the insinuation. I was his lawyer. Bill here was his business agent.”
    â€œYes, of course.” Masuto studied them thoughtfully. “Mr. Barton, it appears, was killed some time between twelve-thirty and one o’clock. Without any insinuations, believe me, I must ask you gentlemen where each of you were at that time?”
    â€œRight here,” Ranier replied.
    â€œWell,” McCarthy said, “you did run back to your office.”
    â€œLater. Much later.”
    â€œCome on, Bill, it was not much later.”
    â€œWhat in hell are you trying to do?” Ranier demanded angrily. “Set me up?”
    â€œI’m not setting you up. For Christ’s sake, what are you so jumpy about? No one’s accusing you of killing Mike. You’re the last person in the world who had any reason to kill him. But the plain truth of the matter is that Mike got the ransom call at twelve noon on the button, and he bombed out of here with the money two minutes later. You left about ten minutes after that, and it was half-past one when you came back.”
    â€œI drove straight to my office.”
    â€œAnd where is your office?” Masuto asked.
    â€œOn Camden. My secretary keeps a log. She logs me in and she logs me out. She can bear witness to that. I had some work that had to be attended to. I didn’t stay to finish it. I brought it back here with me.”
    â€œAnd when did you get back here?”
    â€œIt was about one-forty-five, I think. “Lena Jones—she’s the maid—she let me in.”
    â€œAnd while he was gone, for an hour and forty-five minutes, where were you, Mr. McCarthy?”
    â€œYou know you have no damned right to ask me any questions.”
    â€œI know that. You don’t have to answer.”
    â€œI was right here, in this room. I made some phone calls, but I was right here.”
    â€œAlone?”
    â€œYes, alone. But Mrs. Holtz brought me a sandwich and coffee.”
    â€œWhen was that?”
    McCarthy shrugged.
    â€œYou know damn well when it was,” Ranier said. “You were eating the sandwich when I got back. You offered me the other one. I didn’t even take time for lunch,” he told Masuto.
    â€œSo what? I never left this room. Right now I would like to leave it. I’ve been cooped up here all day.”
    â€œYou are both free to leave whenever you wish,” Masuto said.
    â€œIf you’re going to subject the Angel to questioning, I think I’ll stay,” McCarthy told him. “I’m her attorney.”
    â€œAs you wish. And if you think of anything more you would like to tell me, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
    â€œI’ll take you there,” Ranier