Read Online The Suspect - L R Wright by L. R. Wright - Free Book Online Page B

first, got on to Gibsons, but he's probably
camped up on Crown land someplace; we'll find him when one of the
lumber companies moves in someplace new with chain saws.”
    Sid Sokolowski was a few years older than Alberg, a ponderous,
suspicious man, but thoughtful. He was comfortable only with other
police officers and with his family, which was large. He and his wife
had five children, all girls. The gender of his progeny was a source
of hurt and bewilderment to Sokolowski, who understood perfectly well
that it was his sperm or chromosomes or something which were
responsible for his situation. It gave him, he thought, something in
common with Alberg. He and his wife had decided not to have any more
children, but Sokolowski waffled about this confidentially to Alberg
every now and then, saying he'd like to try once more. Surely the
odds would be much more in his favor, he argued. But Alberg on these
occasions would reply that they had been more in his favor the last
time, too, and even the time before that. "You were a man meant
to have daughters, Sid," he would tell him. "Stop trying to
argue with fate.”
    Alberg had a great fondness for the sergeant, but he wasn't
someone Alberg could confide in about personal things. Not that he'd
ever done much confiding anyway, he thought now, looking at Sid bent
over the Burke file; not even with his wife. And maybe that was a
more serious problem than he'd realized. He had wanted to have things
all figured out before talking about them with Maura. As a result, he
was always presenting her with faits accomplis . He had thought
he was saving her worry. But maybe he'd been wrong.
    "Did the neighbors see anybody on the road that day," he
asked the sergeant, "besides the fish guy and George Wilcox?”
 
Sokolowski shook his head. "Nobody we haven't
accounted for. The fish seller we haven't found yet—he was there at
just about the right time, between eleven thirty and twelve thirty.
    And Wilcox . . . well, actually we've got some disagreement
there.”
    "What kind of disagreement?"
    "Two witnesses, including the woman who lives across the
street from the victim, say they saw Wilcox go through the hedge into
Burke's front yard at about two fifteen, two thirty, somewhere in
there. And this checks with his call to us at two thirty-seven. But
one old fellow—Frank Erlandson, his name is—he says he saw the
same thing, only two hours earlier, at about twelve thirty." He
shrugged. "He seemed kind of confused. He's probably just
misremembering.” He tossed the file folder onto Alberg's desk.
    "What about the seaward side of things?”
    "Nothing. Nobody seen prowling the beaches, nobody out on the
water at the right time except for a couple of kids nine and ten in a
dinghy, and a guy fishing from a rowboat. We checked them out.”
    "The old fellow who says he saw Wilcox at twelve thirty,"
said Alberg. "Let's talk to him again. Try to get that
straightened out.”
    The sergeant was nodding. "Yeah, I think so too. Problem is
he's been in the hospital since Wednesday afternoon for some kind of
tests. He's supposed to be home Saturday. Tomorrow.”
    "Okay. I'll do it myself, since I'll be seeing Wilcox later
on today." He got up and stretched. "Sid. I just talked to
Burke's sister, Mrs. Morris. She tells me Burke was once married to
George Wilcox's sister. She's dead now. Do you find that
interesting?"
    "Kind of a remote connection, Staff," said Sokolowski
reluctantly. "Can't see anything in it, myself. Despite the
will.” He retrieved the file. "I looked into him," he
said, shuffling through the pages in the folder. "Here he is.
Wilcox. Not rich, but he's got money in the bank. House paid for. And
he gets a pretty good pension. Well spoken of by neighbors and
friends. According to them, he wasn't a special friend of the
victim.”
    He closed the file. "It's a toughie. My money's on the salmon
seller." He looked up at Alberg. "Christ, it's been three
days. It's gotta be the salmon