Bugged! by Donald F. Glut

Author:Donald F. Glut
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Digital Parchment Services, Inc.

CHAPTER NINE

“It’s Harvey Lance,” said the man in the black toupee with a pout on his pale face. Harvey resented the way the detective continually confused his name. But he resented even more the line of questioning that he was pursuing. “And you have no right to come here and insinuate that I killed any of these men.”

It was the middle of a warm Monday afternoon. The sun glowed sulphur yellow from a sky of purple smog. The blooming garden in back of Harvey’s two-story red brick home was alive with indigo, emerald and cardinal splendor with matching fragrances. A glorious day, he thought. Much too lovely to be subjected to this insensitive questioning.

Scornfully he looked at the two young people who stood before him. First there was the tall Sgt. Rutledge, who never smiled and never warmed those icicle-like gray eyes. Next to him was the daughter of Howard Barks, so utterly fashionable in her tight-fitting shorts and blouse and with her hair aglow as if she were making a futile attempt to compete with the brilliant flowers in his garden. Karen Barks stepped to one side, avoiding a garden rake, as Rutledge continued his questioning.

“I’m just following up a possible lead, Mr. Harvey.”

“That’s Mr. Lance. Lance.”

“Whatever,” answered the Sergeant. “But I understand there were bitter feelings between you and Bryant Krass.”

Exhaling loudly, Harvey flared one nostril. “Of course there were bitter feelings between Bryant and myself. But so what? Nobody really liked Bryant. He was tolerated but not liked. We all put up with him because he put in all the requirements during pledging and initiation. He made it into the fraternity and so we were stuck with him.”

“Yes,” said Rutledge, “but didn’t you dislike Krass more than anyone else did?”

“All right, Sergeant, I’ll admit I hated that boorish drunk,” answered Harvey. He felt his face change to the color of his favorite rose. “But I didn’t hate the others in our group. What reason would I have to murder Howard or Alex?”

Rutledge paused for a while, thinking. Then he said, “You know quite a bit about insects.”

Harvey raised his eyebrows and turned his head, as if he were reacting for the benefit of some unseen audience. “I know about butterflies and . . .” making an unpleasant face, “moths. But I could care less about mantises, ants and their ilk.”

Harvey Lance smiled when he perceived that Rutledge’s questioning was leading to a cul-de-sac. He felt a sensation of triumph as he watched the detective and his companion eventually walk out the white garden gate and vanish behind the high wall of perfectly trimmed hedges that concealed the garden from prying eyes.

Now alone, Harvey Lance walked with glee among his many-colored friends. He paused at an abundant crop of his prized red roses. He smiled as he leaned over and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the flowers.

A buzzing sound blended with the gentle rustle of the wind.

Harvey turned to view with delight a black furry bee that hovered about a carmine rose.

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