Read Online The Weekend Was Murder by Joan Lowery Nixon - Free Book Online
Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon
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grinned back.
I thought he seemed more interested in Eileen Duffy than in the body he was supposed to be investigating, but he did get to work, conferring with the other officers, some of whom were with the crime lab. I tried not to look in their direction, pretending that there
hadn’t
been a murder and there
wasn’t
a dead body on the floor, but it was impossible.
Jarvis studied the wallet that was found in the victim’s pocket and its contents. “Plenty of money here,” he said to one of the other officers, “and he’s wearing an expensive watch and ring, so it doesn’t look as though the motive was robbery.”
A police photographer took photos of the body from all angles, and finally Jarvis left the room and came back with Stephanie Harmon and the policewoman, whom he introduced as Maria Estavez.
With wild eyes, Miss Harmon checked out all the bodies standing up before she looked at the one on the floor. She seemed reassured at being surrounded by police officers, so she allowed Detective Jarvis to lead her over to the corpse.
For a long moment she stared, then she glanced up and nodded her head. “This man had dealings with my boss,” she said.
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “He came to the office a number of times, but whatever business was conducted wasn’t recorded. I never heard his name.”
“You have no idea what kind of business your former boss was doing with this man?”
“None.” She whimpered and murmured, “I could be lying there instead of that poor man. How do we know the murderer wasn’t after
me
?” She walked to one side of the glass door in the dining room and rested her forehead against the glass as she stared out at the rooftops.
In a low voice Officer Estavez said to Detective Jarvis, “I hope she doesn’t go to pieces before the trial is over. I suggested she try to rest, and she finally did go to her bedroom and nap just a little while ago.”
“Do you have to stay with her every second?” I asked. “I mean, like, do you have to sit by her bed when she’s sleeping? Or what if you have to leave to go to the bathroom?”
Estavez answered me patiently, although she didn’t look very patient. “I’m not right at her side every minute. I just stay in the suite with her. I make sure the doors are locked and don’t allow anyone inside unless I know who they are.”
“Do you have to do that until the trial is over?”
“There are three of us assigned to Stephanie,” she said. “We’ll each work an eight-hour shift, although I’m doing a little overtime on this first one. Another policewoman will take my place tomorrow morning.”
One of the policemen came out of the bedroom and walked to the glass door where Stephanie was standing. She apologized and moved aside as he checked the lock, and he said to Jarvis, “Both of the sliding glass doorsonto the balcony are locked. Looks like entry had to come from the door to the hallway.”
Jarvis began to talk to him about something else, and Officer Estavez turned to survey the living room and dining room of the suite. “This is a lot like our suite,” she said, “except for a couple of strange items. What’s that dressmaker’s dummy in a tuxedo doing in the dining room?”
“It’s a clue,” Mrs. Duffy told her.
“A clue to what?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s something the people who are trying to solve the murder of Edgar Albert Pitts have to figure out.”
“How’d you learn this guy is named Edgar Albert Pitts?”
“He’s not. Pitts is just a character.”
Officer Estavez’s eyes narrowed, and she turned to Detective Jarvis. “Nobody told me about Pitts. When did that happen?”
Mrs. Duffy answered for him. “It didn’t really. Remember, I told you about our mystery weekend? It’s all make-believe for people who want to try to solve a crime.”
Estavez rolled her eyes. “We haven’t got enough crime on the streets? You have to make one up?” Her
I thought he seemed more interested in Eileen Duffy than in the body he was supposed to be investigating, but he did get to work, conferring with the other officers, some of whom were with the crime lab. I tried not to look in their direction, pretending that there
hadn’t
been a murder and there
wasn’t
a dead body on the floor, but it was impossible.
Jarvis studied the wallet that was found in the victim’s pocket and its contents. “Plenty of money here,” he said to one of the other officers, “and he’s wearing an expensive watch and ring, so it doesn’t look as though the motive was robbery.”
A police photographer took photos of the body from all angles, and finally Jarvis left the room and came back with Stephanie Harmon and the policewoman, whom he introduced as Maria Estavez.
With wild eyes, Miss Harmon checked out all the bodies standing up before she looked at the one on the floor. She seemed reassured at being surrounded by police officers, so she allowed Detective Jarvis to lead her over to the corpse.
For a long moment she stared, then she glanced up and nodded her head. “This man had dealings with my boss,” she said.
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “He came to the office a number of times, but whatever business was conducted wasn’t recorded. I never heard his name.”
“You have no idea what kind of business your former boss was doing with this man?”
“None.” She whimpered and murmured, “I could be lying there instead of that poor man. How do we know the murderer wasn’t after
me
?” She walked to one side of the glass door in the dining room and rested her forehead against the glass as she stared out at the rooftops.
In a low voice Officer Estavez said to Detective Jarvis, “I hope she doesn’t go to pieces before the trial is over. I suggested she try to rest, and she finally did go to her bedroom and nap just a little while ago.”
“Do you have to stay with her every second?” I asked. “I mean, like, do you have to sit by her bed when she’s sleeping? Or what if you have to leave to go to the bathroom?”
Estavez answered me patiently, although she didn’t look very patient. “I’m not right at her side every minute. I just stay in the suite with her. I make sure the doors are locked and don’t allow anyone inside unless I know who they are.”
“Do you have to do that until the trial is over?”
“There are three of us assigned to Stephanie,” she said. “We’ll each work an eight-hour shift, although I’m doing a little overtime on this first one. Another policewoman will take my place tomorrow morning.”
One of the policemen came out of the bedroom and walked to the glass door where Stephanie was standing. She apologized and moved aside as he checked the lock, and he said to Jarvis, “Both of the sliding glass doorsonto the balcony are locked. Looks like entry had to come from the door to the hallway.”
Jarvis began to talk to him about something else, and Officer Estavez turned to survey the living room and dining room of the suite. “This is a lot like our suite,” she said, “except for a couple of strange items. What’s that dressmaker’s dummy in a tuxedo doing in the dining room?”
“It’s a clue,” Mrs. Duffy told her.
“A clue to what?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s something the people who are trying to solve the murder of Edgar Albert Pitts have to figure out.”
“How’d you learn this guy is named Edgar Albert Pitts?”
“He’s not. Pitts is just a character.”
Officer Estavez’s eyes narrowed, and she turned to Detective Jarvis. “Nobody told me about Pitts. When did that happen?”
Mrs. Duffy answered for him. “It didn’t really. Remember, I told you about our mystery weekend? It’s all make-believe for people who want to try to solve a crime.”
Estavez rolled her eyes. “We haven’t got enough crime on the streets? You have to make one up?” Her
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