McNally's Puzzle by Lawrence Sanders

Author:Lawrence Sanders [Sanders, Lawrence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Humour
ISBN: 9781453298282
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 1996-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

BY SUNDAY MORNING THE SKIES had cleared—and I wished I could say that for my thoughts. I was in such a distracted mood I accompanied my parents to church: something, I regretfully admit, I rarely do. The sermon was based on the scriptural dictum “The meek shall inherit the earth.” How true, how true, and keep it in mind the next time you’re mugged.

We returned home and went our separate ways. Father retired to his study to continue devouring The New York Times. Mother hurried to the greenhouse to commune with her begonias. And I went searching for Hobo. I finally found him—or rather he found me. He came trotting out of our small patch of woods and paused for a yawn and a long stretch. I had obviously interrupted a noonday nap but he showed no resentment and greeted my presence with an ankle rub.

I had learned from experience the activity he enjoyed most was what I can only term roughhousing. I crouched before him and we engaged in mock combat. He attacked with snarls and growls, jaws open. I defended myself by cuffing him, pushing him violently away, sometimes even flopping him onto his back.

He never bit me of course but delighted in giving my bare hand or wrist a good gumming. We continued this boisterous play until we both had to pause, panting. Then we went for a short walk about the grounds, Hobo padding contentedly at my heels. Finally I peered into his dwelling to make certain his water dish was filled and bade him a fond farewell, urging him to continue his nap.

I retreated to my own doghouse and shucked off my churchy duds, donning a new cotton robe I had recently bought. Well, it was really a nightshirt and the reason for its purchase was that the back was printed with a photograph of Laurel and Hardy trying to push a piano up a hill. I could relate to that.

I then settled down at my desk, blissfully mindless, and began to browse through the Sunday edition of one of our local newspapers. I found no mention whatsoever of the murder of Hiram Gottschalk, from which I could only conclude the police had made no progress. At least they had the decency not to issue the usual claptrap statement: “The homicide is being actively investigated and important developments are expected shortly.”

I flipped the pages to Lolly Spindrift’s gossip column. His breezy comments on the deeds and misdeeds of Palm Beach County’s haute monde are always good for a laugh, or at least an amused smile, but there was one item I found more intriguing than risible. It stated:

“What oh-so-handsome manager of a popular bird supermarket in West Palm is setting new records in the man-about-town sweepstakes, leaving many a female heart atwitter? A word of caution to this lothario’s conquests: You haven’t got a chance. He may be a gorgeous hunk, ladies, but his heart belongs elsewhere.”

I read the item twice. I was certain he was referring to Ricardo Chrisling.

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