narrowed, and she sighed. “Scotty
Bradley. What are you doing here?’
“Is that”—I swallowed—“Benjamin Garrett?”
“Let him through,” she said to the cop standing in front of
me. The cop stood aside and let me pass. She turned her back to me and started
walking over to the corpse. I followed her. “We’re not sure who this is, there
was no ID on him. But he came from that balcony up there, and the name on the
box is Benjamin Garrett,” she said, squatting down next to the tarp. “Can you
handle taking a look?”
I nodded, and took a deep breath. She pulled the tarp back.
I felt gorge rising up in my throat. “It’s him.”
His face was down against the pavement. Blood was pooled
under his face, and his nose was flattened. There was no sign of his glasses.
She replaced the tarp and waved for me to follow her.
Somehow, I managed to get back to my feet and start walking. My mind was numb,
but that was better than hysteria.
Doc is dead, Doc is dead, Doc is dead
kept running through my head like some kind of twisted refrain.
I followed her until we were standing underneath Doc’s
balcony. “At least this time you didn’t find the body,” she said, her face
impassive. She folded her arms. “No offense, but I was hoping I’d never see you
again.”
“None taken. I was kind of hoping the same thing, to be
honest.” I turned and looked back at the corpse. “What happened, Venus? Did he
jump?”
Venus’s face didn’t move. “We’re trying to figure that out,
Scotty. When did you last speak with him?”
“I—I just talked to him this afternoon.” I leaned against
one of the balcony support posts and took some deep breaths. “Oh, no, no.”
The numbness was starting to spread through my body. I made
an effort to pull myself together. I wasn’t going to allow myself to melt down
in front of Venus Casanova, no matter how justified it was.
“This afternoon? How did he seem?”
“The same as always.” I shook my head. “Fine. He was
perfectly fine. I was heading up the street to ride in the Easter Parade. I
walked under his balcony—”
Was it just six or so hours ago?
I swallowed
again. “And when I came out he dumped water on me. He invited me up, gave me a
towel, and I hung out with him for a little while. I was afraid I was going to
be late, so I left and he invited me to stop by again tomorrow afternoon.” I
looked at her. “He wouldn’t have done that if he was planning to—you know.” I
couldn’t bring myself to say it. “And I can’t believe in six hours he would have
gotten depressed enough to—you know.”
Venus watched me, and when I had myself back under control,
said, “How did you know him?”
“He’s an old family friend. He taught my parents in
college.” I turned my back on the street. I didn’t want to keep looking at his
body. “I’ve known him my entire life. He is—
was—
a really great guy—a
little cranky sometimes, but he was old, you know?” I thought of something. “He
walked with a cane, Venus. He had hip problems, I think it was—and he also had
heart problems. I think he had a mild heart attack last December. I don’t think
he could have climbed over the railing. No way.” As the words came out, I knew
what they meant.
The only way he could have gone over the railing was if he’d
had help.
That made it murder.
But why would someone want to murder Doc?
“You’re sure he gave you no hint of any trouble this
afternoon?”
I thought for a moment. “You know, he got a phone call while
I was there. I don’t know who it was—he took it in another room. But when he
came back his face was flushed and he was having trouble breathing. At the time,
I just thought he might be having another one of his attacks, you know? I wasn’t
sure, though, because I wasn’t completely sure what was wrong with his heart. I
think it was a heart attack.” I was babbling, so I clamped my mouth shut and
Bradley. What are you doing here?’
“Is that”—I swallowed—“Benjamin Garrett?”
“Let him through,” she said to the cop standing in front of
me. The cop stood aside and let me pass. She turned her back to me and started
walking over to the corpse. I followed her. “We’re not sure who this is, there
was no ID on him. But he came from that balcony up there, and the name on the
box is Benjamin Garrett,” she said, squatting down next to the tarp. “Can you
handle taking a look?”
I nodded, and took a deep breath. She pulled the tarp back.
I felt gorge rising up in my throat. “It’s him.”
His face was down against the pavement. Blood was pooled
under his face, and his nose was flattened. There was no sign of his glasses.
She replaced the tarp and waved for me to follow her.
Somehow, I managed to get back to my feet and start walking. My mind was numb,
but that was better than hysteria.
Doc is dead, Doc is dead, Doc is dead
kept running through my head like some kind of twisted refrain.
I followed her until we were standing underneath Doc’s
balcony. “At least this time you didn’t find the body,” she said, her face
impassive. She folded her arms. “No offense, but I was hoping I’d never see you
again.”
“None taken. I was kind of hoping the same thing, to be
honest.” I turned and looked back at the corpse. “What happened, Venus? Did he
jump?”
Venus’s face didn’t move. “We’re trying to figure that out,
Scotty. When did you last speak with him?”
“I—I just talked to him this afternoon.” I leaned against
one of the balcony support posts and took some deep breaths. “Oh, no, no.”
The numbness was starting to spread through my body. I made
an effort to pull myself together. I wasn’t going to allow myself to melt down
in front of Venus Casanova, no matter how justified it was.
“This afternoon? How did he seem?”
“The same as always.” I shook my head. “Fine. He was
perfectly fine. I was heading up the street to ride in the Easter Parade. I
walked under his balcony—”
Was it just six or so hours ago?
I swallowed
again. “And when I came out he dumped water on me. He invited me up, gave me a
towel, and I hung out with him for a little while. I was afraid I was going to
be late, so I left and he invited me to stop by again tomorrow afternoon.” I
looked at her. “He wouldn’t have done that if he was planning to—you know.” I
couldn’t bring myself to say it. “And I can’t believe in six hours he would have
gotten depressed enough to—you know.”
Venus watched me, and when I had myself back under control,
said, “How did you know him?”
“He’s an old family friend. He taught my parents in
college.” I turned my back on the street. I didn’t want to keep looking at his
body. “I’ve known him my entire life. He is—
was—
a really great guy—a
little cranky sometimes, but he was old, you know?” I thought of something. “He
walked with a cane, Venus. He had hip problems, I think it was—and he also had
heart problems. I think he had a mild heart attack last December. I don’t think
he could have climbed over the railing. No way.” As the words came out, I knew
what they meant.
The only way he could have gone over the railing was if he’d
had help.
That made it murder.
But why would someone want to murder Doc?
“You’re sure he gave you no hint of any trouble this
afternoon?”
I thought for a moment. “You know, he got a phone call while
I was there. I don’t know who it was—he took it in another room. But when he
came back his face was flushed and he was having trouble breathing. At the time,
I just thought he might be having another one of his attacks, you know? I wasn’t
sure, though, because I wasn’t completely sure what was wrong with his heart. I
think it was a heart attack.” I was babbling, so I clamped my mouth shut and
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