Scott Elliott 02 Come Back Dead by Terence Faherty

Author:Terence Faherty [Faherty, Terence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497690653
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2014-10-15T16:50:56+00:00

25

There was a ruckus going on downstairs. I could hear it from the second-floor hallway outside Gustin’s office. The hallway led to a balcony from which I could see the large main room of the first floor. The rotunda, they probably called it. The third of this area nearest the front doors was filled with reporters and photographers. They were all talking at once, as people in their line of work tend to do, firing questions and demands at the courthouse guards who were holding them in check with the aid of fat red ropes strung between brass stanchions, the same setup they use in movie houses to organize the popcorn line. I gathered, as I descended from the balcony on a sweeping marble staircase, that the reporters wanted to talk with Carson Drury.

At the bottom of the stairs I met my friend the skinny deputy. He wasn’t surprised to see me walking around loose, which told me he was a man in the know. I asked him where Drury was hiding.

“Out back,” the deputy said without taking his eyes off the reporters. “They’re trying to sneak him out of the building. Follow the signs for dog licenses.”

I did, winding my way past offices that became progressively less grand. I found Drury near a back door, but not too near it. He was being looked after by Gilbert Traynor and an older gent in a chauffeur’s uniform. I took a liking to the chauffeur right away. He was the only one of the three who didn’t grimace at the sight of me.

“Scotty,” Drury said. “Sorry we didn’t wait for you. We didn’t know how long you’d be.”

“But you were guessing twenty years to life.”

Gilbert actually cringed. “It was our duty not to hold back evidence,” he said. “We didn’t have a choice.”

He meant that he hadn’t had a choice once Drury had let the Ella-and-Shepard cat out of the bag, which was true. I asked, “Where are you off to?”

Gilbert turned to the chauffeur. “Would you see if there’s any sign of the ambulance, John?”

“It’s an old ploy I used in New York in my radio days,” Drury said to cover the chauffeur’s exit. “I found out it wasn’t illegal to use an ambulance for something other than a medical emergency, so I hired one to get me between the studios when scheduling was tight. The city has since passed a law against it.”

“The spoilsports,” I said.

Drury was looking about the way I felt. His trademark hair was stringy and dull, and his chin was blue. There were matching circles around his big, soulful eyes. Gilbert, on the other hand, was as natty as ever. “Keep up appearances” was probably the Traynor motto. But he was spending a lot of time smoothing his perfectly trimmed moustache.

“Carson can’t go back to the farm,” he said. “The reporters have already come in from as far away as Chicago. So I’ve had the top floor of the Roberts Hotel cleared. We can protect Carson there–from the reporters.

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