Larry Kent 645 The Heavenly Bodies by Don Haring

Author:Don Haring [Haring, Don]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: detectives, detective novels, piccadilly publishing, don haring, larry kent, murder and mystery thrillers, noir books
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6 ... lady in white ...

“He was dead no more than thirty minutes when you and Charley Gregg found him,” Lieutenant Carnaby said.

“I know,” I said. “I touched his face. It was still warm. I didn’t touch the blood on his chest, but I could see it hadn’t coagulated.”

We were in Pinker’s kitchen. Fingerprint men and photographers were working around the body in the other room. The coroner hadn’t arrived yet. Charley Gregg, the old man who fished for his cat, was on his Way to the police station to make out a statement. Splitting witnesses is routine police procedure.

“Why’d you come here in the first place?” Carnaby asked. “How’d you connect Pinker with Fred Wallis?”

“A fellow named Venner made the connection.”

“The day clerk at the Rand?”

“Yes. I asked him if Fred had had any visitors while he was on duty. A five-dollar bill jogged his memory. He told me that Pinker called on Fred last Wednesday or Thursday afternoon—he wasn’t sure of the day—and stayed for about an hour.”

“Did he tell you anything about Pinker?”

“Just that Pinker served some time for robbery in Florida before he came here to live, and that Pinker was hot-headed and pretty good in a fight.”

“And then some,” Carnaby said. “He took on three men one night in the Harbor Saloon. Two of them were hospital cases.”

“Yes, Venner mentioned something about that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here to see Pinker?”

“I didn’t think it was worth bringing to your attention, Lieutenant. It was only a shot in the dark. Besides, when I thought about Pinker after leaving your office, I took it for granted that you had learned from Venner that Pinker had been to the hotel to see Fred.”

Carnaby said something under his breath. Maybe he was sore at himself for not having thought to question the day clerk about Fred’s visitors.

“Another thing the clerk told me,” I said, “was that Abe Pinker was a deep-sea diver. Well, Fred was a frogman before the navy put him into intelligence work. I thought maybe Pinker served a hitch or two in the navy and that was how Fred knew him. If this was the case, I thought it was just possible that Fred might have said something to Pinker that’d give us a clue to why Fred came here—and what happened to him. It appears I was right.”

Carnaby sniffed. “I don’t suppose it occurred to you that Abe Pinker and your friend may have been working together?”

“Not before I came here tonight.”

“And now?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious that Pinker knew something. Whatever it was, somebody figured it was too much.”

The wall phone jangled. Carnaby hesitated, took the instrument off the hook, placed the receiver against his ear. Then, pitching his voice low, he said, “Yes? Who’s this?” He listened for a moment. “This is Carnaby here,” he said in his normal voice. His brows went down and he glanced at me as he listened. “Where? ... All right, I’ll be there in ten minutes.

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