Invitation to Murder by Zenith Brown

Author:Zenith Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, murder, crime, detective, sleuth
Publisher: Wildside Press
Published: 2018-01-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER : 13

Fish Finlay found a telephone book in the office next to the bar and turned the yellow pages again for the address of the Randolphs’ caterer.

“The Coast Guard plane spotted him.” The bartender had explained to him. Durban had lost interest when he heard the little waiter’s name. “They thought it was Miss Randolph, the sea gulls were making such a row out on the end of the island. The plane’s still up looking for her. This fellow I was talking to out back said there was one of her slippers got caught up on the rock. It’s funny how little things like that get you, isn’t it?”

Fish nodded and went to find the telephone book then.

The shop he was looking for was just off Bellevue Avenue on John Street, a small gold stencil on the window discreetly announcing the premises of Jean Paul Lanson, Caterer, Open 9 to 3, Or By Appointment. He stepped into a clean bare room with a fine tiered wedding cake in a glass case. A desk with two chairs stood by a curtained door. The curtains moved and the sallow anxious face of a woman of about forty appeared.

“Not the police again,” she said. She looked at him with weary desperation. “My father’s very ill.”

“I’m not the police, Miss Lanson,” Fish said. “I talked to you early this morning. My name’s Finlay.”

“Oh yes.” She came on into the room. “I had to tell the police somebody called. I hope I didn’t make a lot of trouble for you, too.”

“Not so far.”

Her drawn face relaxed a little as he smiled at her. “It’s been awful, Mr. Finlay. We just don’t know what to do.” She gave the impression of wringing her hands without moving them at all, searching his face with a pathetic need of some kind of understanding. “Are you a friend of Mr. Beyle’s?”

“In a way. I came to see your father. I have an idea that Beyle was something besides a waiter.”

She looked almost sick. “Are you . . . from the government?”

“No. I work in a bank. I have nothing to do with the law or the police. I just think maybe the little guy got a pretty raw deal.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come, then!”

She went quickly to the front door and pressed the latch to lock it. “We’re just out of our minds. Sit down, will you? Let me run up and tell my father. His ulcers flared up. If he was Mrs. Winton, he’d be in a hospital where nobody could worry him.” She added it bitterly as she hurried through the curtains. When she came back in a moment, she pulled a chair up to the desk and pushed her hair back from her anxious face.

“Father always trust the wrong people. I told him we’d be ruined if it ever got out. But he would do it. Mr. Beyle was discreet. Father’s friend would never have sent him if he hadn’t been absolutely trustworthy. And look what happened.

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