Murder by the Book by Bob Liter

Author:Bob Liter [Liter, Bob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1588731065
Published: 2019-10-01T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was a little after ten the next morning when I went over to Otto's and saw Faustine reading the sports pages of the local paper. I complained that the pages were mine by reason of longevity. She shoved them toward me on the bar and said with disgust, "The Cubs lost again."

"Thanks a lot," I said. "You've ruined the suspense."

Otto laid the local section of the paper in front of us and opened it to page six. I spotted the one-column photo of my mug immediately and saw a headline that said, "Local cleanup campaign started."

It was a short piece about the alley cleanup with several quotes from Commissioner Gordon. BJ and I were named but the three teenagers were not.

"What's this about?" Otto demanded.

"Just part of my campaign to get people to recognize and do something about their civic duty. Our next project is to clean up this dump," I said.

"I'm all for that," Faustine said.

Otto grumbled that I would tell him what's going on sooner or later. Faustine stared at me.

"What do you plan to do today, Mister Civic Duty?"

"I'm going to call Doctor Sluppleman. He's been released on $500,000 bond. I hope you can think of something to do besides tag along like a little sister. Did you have nightmares?

"Once I realized what a small threat you are, I slept fine, thank you."

Otto, as usual, was listening to the conversation although he would deny it. I was glad he didn't understand the innuendo.

"Why is it you, with ten years of experience in this business, are always tagging along after me? Were you hired to keep an eye on me, or are you just unable to do any detecting on your own?"

She choked on coffee she had just swallowed and stood up, glaring at me.

"If I was hired to watch you, I've seen all there is to see. Jam it mister."

She marched out, her menacing bag swinging from her shoulder.

Otto looked at me for an explanation. I shrugged and said, "You tell me. You're the one who thinks he understands women."

When I called Sluppleman, who had returned to his practice in Chicago, he asked in a subdued voice, "Have you learned anything that will help clear me?"

I admitted my failure, so far, to learn much of anything that would help. He said I should be careful.

"And warn Charlie Connor to be careful."

"What about Laura Beckert? Shouldn't I warn her, too?"

He agreed and repeated that I should be careful. He told me to keep at it and asked me to cooperate with his attorney's investigator.

"Did Fremont send you a retainer fee yet? Was $2,000 enough?"

I assured him it was and, after he hung up, opened the mail I had neglected for two days.

I found the check among bills and junk mail. I went to my bank, a branch of United Fed up the hill from the police station, and deposited the check. I gloated at the balance in my check book.

Meanwhile, the names connected to the license plate numbers Faustine and I recorded at Charlie's turned out to be interesting.

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