Improbable Cause by Jance J. A

Author:Jance, J. A. [Jance, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Crime, thriller, Suspense
ISBN: 9785550192078
Amazon: 5550192071
Goodreads: 462995
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 1988-02-01T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

I asked Daisy if I could use the phone to check in with the department before I left the Edinburgh Arms. She obligingly led me to the kitchen. The receiver on the phone was dangling off the hook. “Is somebody using it?” I asked.

“No,” Daisy answered. “We did that this morning as soon as we saw the article in the paper. Rachel said we didn’t need people calling here. I know they mean well, sympathy calls and all that, but with Dotty just out of the hospital…” Her voice trailed away.

“Leaving it off the hook is probably a good idea,” I told her.

When I dialed the department, Big Al wasn’t in, so I asked to speak to Sergeant Watkins instead.

“Did the prosecutor finally put Al on the witness stand?” I asked.

Watty laughed. “Are you kidding? There’s been another delay. He’s at lunch now, but I’ve got a note that says they’ll want him for sure at one. What’s happening with you, Beau? I heard from Al that you’ve managed to reach Dr. Nielsen’s next of kin. Arlo Hamilton has scheduled a press conference for twelve-thirty. Any objections?”

“None from me.”

“How about leads?”

“It’s coming together.”

My answer was evasive. Watty knew it and called me on it. “So what are you finding out?” he asked.

“There’s a witness up in Lake City,” I replied. “Since I’m already halfway there, I think I’ll go on up and see him. Once I talk to him, we’ll know a whole lot more.”

“That still doesn’t sound like a straight answer to me. Come on. What gives?” Watty insisted, pushing me into a corner.

“This is all supposition, of course, but I’m leaning toward justifiable homicide.”

“Justifiable! What makes you say that?”

“According to the wife, there was a fight. Nielsen tried to attack her and she fended him off, with the help of this other guy, a carpet installer named Larry Martin.”

“The one you’re going to talk to now?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to arrest him?”

“No, I’m not going to arrest him. I already told you. I just want to ask him some questions. My guess is it’ll probably boil down to self-defense.”

Watty was silent, but only for a moment. “Tell me about the wife, Beau. Is she a looker? Your recent track record isn’t so hot, you know. It wouldn’t be the first time a pretty lady’s turned your head.”

“Go to hell, Watty,” I snarled.

“By the way, Al says the medical examiner wants to know if you’re psychic or what. He says there was a helluva bruise just behind Nielsen’s left ear, a bruise and some pottery fragments.”

“I’m psychic, all right,” I told him. I hung up the phone long enough to cut the connection, then I dropped the receiver again, leaving it hanging loose the same way I had found it.

Behind me, Daisy came into the kitchen carrying a cardboard box. She opened it on the counter and carefully began removing and unwrapping the contents—a set of fine, bone china teacups and saucers. She held a delicate cup up to the window and examined it in the sunlight.

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