Murder In Fashion (The Dewey Webb Historical Mystery Series Book 2) by Renee Pawlish

Murder In Fashion (The Dewey Webb Historical Mystery Series Book 2) by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish [Pawlish, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Creative Cat Press
Published: 2016-07-08T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Sixteen

It was after noon, and I was hungry, so I stopped for lunch at State Bar and Grill on California Street, across from the Denver Post building. I ordered a hot roast beef sandwich, and while I ate, I thought about my next move.

The guilty finger pointed in several directions. I’d talked to a lot of people in my search for a killer, but there was still one more person who bore further scrutiny: Charles Templeton.

He had an alibi for the night his brother was murdered, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have been involved in his brother’s death. I wondered what the people who knew Charles thought of him. If he really wanted to take over Templeton Fashion, would he have told them? If he was a murderer, would they have seen hints of that? But I had no idea who Charles Templeton associated with to even ask. Then, as I finished my lunch and paid the check, I realized who might help me, and I drove back to the office.

I settled into my chair and called Clara first to check in. She said she hadn’t seen any strangers hanging around the house or along the street. I told her to be careful, then called Detective Russo.

“Hey, Webb,” he said when I identified myself.

“Would it be possible for me to look at your files on the Templeton murder?”

“You’re still barking up that tree?”

“I am,” I said. “And I’ve found some interesting things.”

“Like what?”

“Did you ever talk to a boy named Johnny Roybal?”

“Who?”

“Sarah Roybal’s son. They live in the house next door to the crime scene.”

“Sarah Roybal? I didn’t even know she had a kid. A patrol officer talked to people in the neighborhood. Why?”

“The boy says he saw someone that night, and he thinks the guy had a gun.”

“So?”

“This man didn’t fit Herb’s description. He was shorter than Herb.”

“The kid could’ve been mistaken.”

I nodded as if Russo could see me. “It’s possible. Did Sarah say anything in particular about the man she saw?”

“Yeah. He wore a dark trench coat.”

“And he didn’t wear a hat.”

“Right.”

“Did you find a hat at the crime scene?”

“Sure, Templeton’s. It was lying near his body, like it had fallen off when he dropped to the ground.”

“But no other hat?”

“No.”

“Don’t you think it’s odd that this other guy didn’t have a hat on?”

“Maybe he forgot it.”

“What kind of hat did Herb wear?”

“How the hell should I know? I don’t remember that far back.”

“His friend Archie Benton says he was partial to a straw Panama hat.”

“So?” he asked again.

“You don’t think it’s odd that the boy saw someone without a hat? If it was Herb, wouldn’t the boy have noticed the straw hat? From what I hear, Herb was never without his Panama hat.”

“Unless he didn’t wear it because he knew he was going to kill Melvin Templeton and knew a Panama was too identifiable.”

“It could’ve happened that way,” I said. “Or it could’ve been someone else who killed Templeton. I’ve got other people who don’t have an alibi for that night.



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