Murder On Ice by P. J. Conn

Author:P. J. Conn [Conn, P. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2017-10-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Joe heard his office telephone ringing as he came up the stairs. He yanked his keys from his pocket, opened the door, and grabbed for the telephone before the caller hung up. "Discreet Investigations."

"This is Phillip Fitzgerald. I hear you've been looking for me."

Joe fumbled with the phone. "Yes, I am, Mr. Fitzgerald. Did your wife tell you why?"

"She claims there's a barber who closely resembles me. Why should that be any concern of mine?"

He had Joe there. He'd believed Phillip would be as agreeable a man as Fred, clearly a mistaken notion. "He shares your birthday, Mr. Fitzgerald, and is most likely your twin. Did your parents ever discuss your birth?"

"No, why would they?"

"Some families enjoy telling those stories. Do you recall the name of your family physician when you were small?"

"Percival McDowd, but he's long dead. I've gotten along as an only child my whole life, and I sure don't need a brother now. If he's asking for money, he's out of luck. Tell him I won't give him a cent."

Joe held onto his temper and withheld Fred's name. "He's a honorable man, Mr. Fitzgerald, and would be a credit to any family."

"Not mine. Good-bye."

Inspired to go to the restroom to wash his hands, Joe brought back a wet paper towel and wiped off his telephone. He'd seen CC coming up the stairs, and opened his door to speak with him. "I'm taking a quick poll. How would you feel if you discovered you had a twin brother?"

CC burst into a joyous smile. "Well, now, I'd love to have a twin. Maybe we could go fishing together, or whatever twin brothers do. I sure wouldn't trade places with him to fool our wives. No, sir, that would be playing with dynamite."

"It sure would, and there's always the possibility the wives would enjoy the switch, and you'd have an even bigger mess. Thanks for your answer."

"Anytime, Mr. Ezell. You have a nice day now."

"You too."

The phone rang again before Joe had a chance to sit down. "Discreet Investigations."

"I love that name," the woman giggled as though highly amused. "You gave me your card when we were filming Arizona Sunrise. I'm the red-haired dancehall girl."

"Yes, I remember you. How may I help you?"

"I called to help you. The wrap party is tonight. I have Casper Green's address if you want it."

"Sure do, thank you." He wrote it down and got the directions. "What time does it start?"

"Usually around 10 o'clock. That's the time we always get there. The caterers must arrive earlier because the food is always laid out."

"Fine. I'll be there, and if you see me, don't let on that we know each other."

"I got it, you'll be working undercover."

"I will. Give me your name and telephone number in case I need them." He held his breath and hoped she wouldn't doubt why he needed them.

"It’s Pamela Smyth, with a y," she responded and also supplied her number.

"Thanks, good-bye." Joe pumped his fist in the air. Sometimes, too seldom, unfortunately, help came from an unexpected source, and he always followed up on it.

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