Mourners: A Nameless Detective Novel (Nameless Detective Mystery) by Bill Pronzini

Author:Bill Pronzini [Pronzini, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-04-01T06:00:00+00:00

To the S.F. Police Department—

Three nights ago, at approximately 7 p.m., I was at Lloyd Lake in Golden Gate Park. I stop there sometimes on my way home from work, sit at Portals of the Past and watch the ducks, it’s a quiet place to unwind.

I was returning to my car when I noticed a man and a woman talking alongside a car parked across the road from mine. There was no one else in the vicinity. The man was holding the door open. The woman hesitated as if she was reluctant to get inside, then relented. The man got in after her. I don’t believe either of them noticed me.

He didn’t start the car or put on the lights. As I was buckling my seat belt, I saw them talking and the woman began to laugh. It seemed to make him angry. He said something to her and she stopped laughing. She tried to get out of the car. He grabbed her, dragged her back. I think he might have hit her then. No, I’m sure he did, he punched her in the face, the dome light was on and I saw her head bounce off the door glass and her body slump down on the seat. He pulled the door shut. He started the car and drove away.

I could have followed them but I didn’t.

I sat there a while longer and then I drove home.

I didn’t do anything.

It was dark and I didn’t get a clear look at the woman but she was young and she was wearing a light-colored jogging suit. I think she might be the woman who was raped and murdered that night.

I can’t identify the man, I didn’t get a clear look at him.

I can’t identify the make or model of the car.

I couldn’t read the license plate number.

I don’t really know anything.

I didn’t do anything.

I can’t I couldn’t I don’t I didn’t

The other four pages had been written with a black felt-tip pen. Some of it was the same crabbed handwriting as the letter draft, some was in block printing, a few words had been formed in thick, heavy, doodlelike strokes. Done at different times, but in each case during a period of emotional upheaval.

The first:

american? japanese?

2 doors 4 doors?

dark color but what color? dark blue dark green dark brown?

license plate? 2 something U or O or D but that’s all

big man but just husky or fat?

what kind of cap? baseball racing sun what?

don’t know can’t remember couldn’t tell in the dark

didnt pay enough attention

why not?

you coward you know why not

The second:

cant

cant

coward

cant

coward

coward

coward

The third:

why why why why whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

WHY

WHY!!!!!

The last:

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