McNally's luck by Lawrence Sanders

Author:Lawrence Sanders [Sanders, Lawrence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: det_crime
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

10

Why do men's jackets and shirts button left over right while women's button right over left? I have asked this question of people at cocktail parties, and they invariably give me a frozen smile and move away.

But I'm sure there is an explanation for this buttoning conundrum that is at once profound and simple. I felt the same way about the disappearance of Peaches and the murder of Lydia Gillsworth. Those twin mysteries had a logical and satisfying solution if I could but find it.

I spent Wednesday morning slowly going over my journal, reading every entry twice. I found nothing that even hinted at some devilish plot that would account for a missing Felis domestica and the death of a poet's wife. All my diary contained was a jumble of facts and impressions. I could only pray that the seance that evening would yield a spectral suggestion that might inspire me.

I drove to the office and found on my desk, sealed in an envelope, a memo from Tim Hogan, temporary chief of our real estate section. It concerned the Glorianas' office and condo.

The commercial suite on Clematis Street had been leased for a year. The Glorianas had put up two months' rent as security but were currently a month behind in their payments. Similarly, their apartment had not been purchased but was rented on a month-to-month basis. At the moment, the Glorianas were current on their rent.

In both cases the references given were a bank and individuals in Atlanta. Hogan had thoughtfully provided names and addresses, but mentioned he could find no record of the references ever having been checked. That was unusual but not unheard of in the freewheeling world of South Florida real estate.

I called Sgt. Rogoff and told him what I had.

"Why don't you check them out, Al?" I suggested. "Just for the fun of it."

"Yeah," he said, "I will. But first I think I'll contact the Atlanta cops. Just in case."

"Do that," I urged. "It's the first real lead we've had on where the Glorianas operated before they arrived here."

I gave him the names and addresses of the Glorianas' references, and he promised to get back to me as soon as he had something. At that point I had no idea of where I might turn next in my discreet inquiries, so I decided to drive over to Worth Avenue and see if I could buy a tennis bracelet for Connie at a price that wouldn't land me in debtors' prison.

Then fate took a beneficent hand in the investigation-which proves that if you are pure of heart and eat your Wheaties, good things can happen to you.

I went down to the garage to board the Miata for the short drive over to Worth. Herb, our lumbering security guard, had come out of his glass cubicle and was leaning down to stroke the head of a cat rubbing against his shins. I strolled over.

"Got a new friend, Herb?" I asked.

He looked up at me. "A stray, Mr. McNally," he said.

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