Matthew Scudder #04 - A Stab in the Dark by Lawrence Block

Author:Lawrence Block [Block, Lawrence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Classics, Hard-Boiled
ISBN: 9780515067170
Google: -40g3EyE514C
Amazon: 0380715740
Barnesnoble: 0380715740
Goodreads: 76765
Publisher: Avon
Published: 1981-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

When I got back to my hotel there was a message from Lynn London. I called her from the pay phone in the lobby and explained who I was and what I wanted.

She said, “My father hired you? It’s funny he didn’t say anything to me. I thought they had the man who killed my sister. Why would he suddenly—well, let’s let it ride for now. I don’t know what help I could be.”

I said I’d like to meet with her to talk about her sister.

“Not tonight,” she said briskly. “I just got back from the mountains a couple of hours ago. I’m exhausted and I’ve got to do my lesson plans for the week.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I teach during the day. I’ve got a dinner date and I’m going to a concert after that. Tuesday’s my group therapy night. Maybe Wednesday? That’s not terribly good for me either. Hell.”

“Maybe we could—”

“Maybe we could handle it over the phone? I don’t really know very much, Mr. Scudder, and God knows I’m beat at the moment, but perhaps I could deal with, say, ten minutes’ worth of questions right now, because otherwise I honestly don’t know when we could get together. I don’t really know very much, it was a great many years ago and—”

“When do you finish your classes tomorrow afternoon?”

“Tomorrow afternoon? We dismiss the children at three fifteen, but—”

“I’ll meet you at your apartment at four.”

“I told you. I have a dinner date tomorrow.”

“And a concert after it. I’ll meet you at four. I won’t take that much of your time.”

She wasn’t thrilled, but that’s how we left it. I spent another dime and called Jan Keane. I recapped the day and she told me she was in awe of my industriousness. “I don’t know,” I said. “Sometimes I think I’m just putting in time. I could have accomplished the same thing today with a couple of phone calls.”

“We could have handled our business over the phone last night,” she said. “As far as that goes.”

“I’m glad we didn’t.”

“So am I,” she said. “I think. On the other hand, I was planning on working today and I couldn’t even look at clay. I’m just hoping this hangover wears off by bedtime.”

“I had a clear head this morning.”

“Mine’s just beginning to clear now. Maybe my mistake was staying in the house. The sun might have burned off some of the fog. Now I’m just sitting around until it’s a reasonable hour to go to sleep.”

There might have been an unspoken invitation in that last sentence. I probably could have invited myself over. But I was already home, and a short and quiet evening had its appeal. I told her I’d wanted to say how I’d enjoyed her company and that I’d call her.

“I’m glad you called,” she said. “You’re a sweet man, Matthew.” A pause, and then she said, “I’ve been thinking about it. He probably did it.”

“He?”

“Doug Ettinger. He probably killed her.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why. People always have motives to kill their spouses, don’t they? There was never a day when I didn’t have a reason to kill Eddie.

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