Fourth Deadly Sin by Lawrence Sanders

Author:Lawrence Sanders [Sanders, Lawrence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-9839-8
Publisher: Open Road
Published: 2012-12-27T16:24:00+00:00

17

DETECTIVE BENJAMIN CALAZO WAS a month away from retirement and dreading it. He came from a family of policemen. His father had been a cop, his younger brother was a cop, and two uncles had been cops. The NYPD wasn’t just a job, it was a life.

Calazo didn’t fish, play golf, or collect stamps. He had no hobbies at all, and no real interests outside the Department. What the hell was he going to do—move the wife to a mobile home in Lakeland, Florida, and play shuffleboard for the rest of his days?

The Ellerbee case seemed like a good way to cap his career. He had worked with Sergeant Boone before, and knew he was an okay guy. Also, Boone’s father had been a street cop killed in the line of duty. Calazo had gone to the funeral, and you didn’t forget things like that.

The detective had asked to be assigned to Isaac Kane for the reason he stated: His nephew was retarded, and he thought he knew something about handling handicapped kids. Calazo had three married daughters, and sometimes he wondered if they weren’t retarded when he was forced to have dinner with his sons-in-law—a trio of losers, Benny thought; not a cop in the lot.

His first meeting with Isaac Kane went reasonably well. Calazo sat with him for almost three hours at the Community Center, admiring the kid’s pastel landscapes and talking easily about this and that.

Every once in a while Calazo would spring a question about Dr. Simon Ellerbee. Isaac showed no hesitation in answering, and the subject didn’t seem to upset him. He told the detective pretty much what he had told Delaney and Boone—which didn’t amount to a great deal.

The boy didn’t display any confusion until Calazo asked him about his activities on the night of the murder.

“It was a Friday, Isaac,” Calazo said. “What did you do on that night?”

“I was here until the Center closed. Ask Mrs. Freylinghausen; she’ll tell you.”

“Okay, I’ll ask her. And after the Center closed, what did you do then?”

“I went home.”

“Uh-huh. You live right around the corner, don’t you, Isaac? So I guess you got there around nine-five or so. Is that correct?”

Kane didn’t look at the detective, but concentrated on adding foliage to a tree in his landscape.

“Well, uh, it was probably later. I walked around awhile.”

“That was a very rainy night, Isaac. A bad storm. You didn’t walk about in that, did you?”

“I don’t remember!” Kane said, breaking one of his chalks and flinging it away angrily. “I don’t know why you’re asking me all these questions, and I’m not going to answer any more. You’re just—” He began to stutter unintelligibly.

“All right,” Benny said mildly, “you don’t have to answer any more questions. I just thought you’d want to help us find out who killed Doctor Simon.”

Kane was silent.

“Hey,” the detective said, “I’m getting hungry. How about you? There’s a fast-food joint on the corner. How’s about I pick up a couple of burgers and coffee for us and bring them back here?”

“Okay,” Isaac Kane said.

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