bloody heathens, get the hell out of your beds and into the chapel!’” She gave a great thump with her hand on the table.
“You’ll wake up the kids,” Mrs. Hernandez said.
“The kids? She’ll be waking the dead,” said Mrs. Healy.
“There’s one I won’t waken,” Mrs. Flaherty said in sudden sobriety. “But I’ll never forget the feeling—standing there at her door trying … And then when I went into the room …”
She was off on the story again from the beginning.
11
A T EIGHT O’CLOCK THAT night Lieutenant Holden returned to headquarters after a tardy dinner. Goldsmith arranged a series of reports before him, the autopsy findings on top, while the lieutenant called the chief inspector. Hanging up the phone, he wiped the sweat from his chin.
“That’s so the old boy can stick his feet back up on the railing and enjoy the sea-breeze. What a great night for something like this.”
“The only comfortable place I’ve been to today was the morgue,” Goldsmith said. “Which is a nice thought for Sunday. Want to go over the autopsy?”
The lieutenant picked up the report and read it through, now and then repeating a section aloud. Goldsmith was lining up photographs.
“Last meal about two o’clock,” Holden commented, “salad, greens …”
“A vegetarian, no doubt,” Goldsmith said.
“Some alcohol. Probably a cocktail or two. No more.” Holden looked up. “Would you say she was the kind to drink alone?”
“I doubt it. McCormick’s checking that. Also her shopping tour.”
“Sunday’s a tough night for that.”
“We’d like to find out if anyone was with her yesterday. There’s a set of fingerprints on her wardrobe door. It looks as though she’d taken somebody there to show him what she had in it, or maybe what she didn’t have. According to Flaherty’s cleaning schedule, those prints got there after Friday afternoon.”
Holden returned to the autopsy report. “The blunt instrument,” he murmured. “Hammer, butt of a gun …”
“If you’ll look at these pictures, Lieutenant, I think we can eliminate the gun. The depth of the wounds indicates more leverage than a gun would allow.”
Holden went to the wall board where Goldsmith had lined up the pictures. The sergeant traced the areas he wanted to call particular attention to. Holden nodded while he listened to Goldsmith’s theory. He returned to his desk.
“That would mean a mechanic’s hammer. Is that your idea?”
“It is. The medical examiner corroborates.”
“That would suggest someone who drives a car, maybe his own, maybe not. All it really suggests is someone who has access to a mechanic’s hammer. I suppose practically all the men she entertained owned their own cars?”
Goldsmith sat down on the corner of the desk. “We don’t know all of them yet. And I don’t think she entertained many of them at home. She went out on her important calls, though she may have had a regular or two. Before we get to the suspects I’d like to go over what we can of her activities Saturday.”
Holden agreed and Goldsmith lit a cigarette. “We know that she went shopping in the afternoon. I think she bought, or at least shopped for, something in fur. There was a newspaper in the living room opened to an ad for furs—Friday’s paper, by the way. Saturday she came home tired about five o’clock. She wasn’t feeling very well. As you can see in the report, she had a bad stomach. But she had a dinner appointment important enough to keep anyway …”
Holden lit a cigarette from Goldsmith’s. He had learned most of this during the afternoon’s questionings, this and a lot of things that were no doubt extraneous. He noticed that some of them were missing from Goldsmith’s recapitulation. He had pared off the non-essentials.
“Her date must have been for an early dinner,” the sergeant continued. “That inclines me to the opinion that her client might be an out-of-towner. I don’t think she rested at
“You’ll wake up the kids,” Mrs. Hernandez said.
“The kids? She’ll be waking the dead,” said Mrs. Healy.
“There’s one I won’t waken,” Mrs. Flaherty said in sudden sobriety. “But I’ll never forget the feeling—standing there at her door trying … And then when I went into the room …”
She was off on the story again from the beginning.
11
A T EIGHT O’CLOCK THAT night Lieutenant Holden returned to headquarters after a tardy dinner. Goldsmith arranged a series of reports before him, the autopsy findings on top, while the lieutenant called the chief inspector. Hanging up the phone, he wiped the sweat from his chin.
“That’s so the old boy can stick his feet back up on the railing and enjoy the sea-breeze. What a great night for something like this.”
“The only comfortable place I’ve been to today was the morgue,” Goldsmith said. “Which is a nice thought for Sunday. Want to go over the autopsy?”
The lieutenant picked up the report and read it through, now and then repeating a section aloud. Goldsmith was lining up photographs.
“Last meal about two o’clock,” Holden commented, “salad, greens …”
“A vegetarian, no doubt,” Goldsmith said.
“Some alcohol. Probably a cocktail or two. No more.” Holden looked up. “Would you say she was the kind to drink alone?”
“I doubt it. McCormick’s checking that. Also her shopping tour.”
“Sunday’s a tough night for that.”
“We’d like to find out if anyone was with her yesterday. There’s a set of fingerprints on her wardrobe door. It looks as though she’d taken somebody there to show him what she had in it, or maybe what she didn’t have. According to Flaherty’s cleaning schedule, those prints got there after Friday afternoon.”
Holden returned to the autopsy report. “The blunt instrument,” he murmured. “Hammer, butt of a gun …”
“If you’ll look at these pictures, Lieutenant, I think we can eliminate the gun. The depth of the wounds indicates more leverage than a gun would allow.”
Holden went to the wall board where Goldsmith had lined up the pictures. The sergeant traced the areas he wanted to call particular attention to. Holden nodded while he listened to Goldsmith’s theory. He returned to his desk.
“That would mean a mechanic’s hammer. Is that your idea?”
“It is. The medical examiner corroborates.”
“That would suggest someone who drives a car, maybe his own, maybe not. All it really suggests is someone who has access to a mechanic’s hammer. I suppose practically all the men she entertained owned their own cars?”
Goldsmith sat down on the corner of the desk. “We don’t know all of them yet. And I don’t think she entertained many of them at home. She went out on her important calls, though she may have had a regular or two. Before we get to the suspects I’d like to go over what we can of her activities Saturday.”
Holden agreed and Goldsmith lit a cigarette. “We know that she went shopping in the afternoon. I think she bought, or at least shopped for, something in fur. There was a newspaper in the living room opened to an ad for furs—Friday’s paper, by the way. Saturday she came home tired about five o’clock. She wasn’t feeling very well. As you can see in the report, she had a bad stomach. But she had a dinner appointment important enough to keep anyway …”
Holden lit a cigarette from Goldsmith’s. He had learned most of this during the afternoon’s questionings, this and a lot of things that were no doubt extraneous. He noticed that some of them were missing from Goldsmith’s recapitulation. He had pared off the non-essentials.
“Her date must have been for an early dinner,” the sergeant continued. “That inclines me to the opinion that her client might be an out-of-towner. I don’t think she rested at
Similar Books
