fronts.“
“Wow!“ Jack said. “What a deal! This might make you famous, Howard—the guy who pulled the plug on these pious B ible-thumping phonies.”
Walker gave Jack a wry look and turned to Ralph. “Harry Harbinger and Robert are keeping three of them on the third floor. You need to take over. And Chief Coiling is loaning us another officer and a fingerprint expert. Go upstairs and herd them back into the dining room for luncheon. The outside doors have been locked and Harry has the key. You stay in the dining room with them and I’ll let you know when you can turn them loose.”
Chapter 9
Lily, Howard Walker, and the Prinneys were having lunch in the kitchen when Robert came in to tell Walker that he had a new bunch of guests: Big Jimmy Rennie, the enormous Deputy Lawrence on loan, and another deputy who was taking the car they’d arrived in back to Chief Colling’s station. There was also a tall, thin man with a locked box of fingerprinting materials who introduced himself as Detective Williams.
“May I take them into the dining room?“ Walker asked nobody in particular. He stuffed the last of his meat loaf sandwich in his mouth and swigged it down with a gulp of Mrs. Prinney s fake coffee made of chicory.
Everyone nodded vague agreement with his request. As Walker headed into the front entry, he thanked the deputy who was about to leave and directed the other three men to the dining room. Detective Williams took the suspects’ fingerprints, including Big Jimmy Rennie’s, before he went upstairs to start collecting the same from objects in their rooms.
When Big Jimmy Rennie had been fingerprinted, Walker escorted him to the library. Wiping his hands carefully to get rid of the ink, Rennie took a leisurely look around the room. He cast his glance over the glass-fronted bookshelves, the long, graceful table in the center, and stood, relaxed, by a leather chair next to the French windows that overlooked the magnificent view of the Hudson flowing along below and behind the mansion.
Walker studied the man before sitting down at the table. Considering what he was named, Walker had expected a sloppy man, probably Irish, with a beer belly, red hair, and a florid, blotched face. That would teach him a good lesson in forming impressions of people he hadn’t met.
Big Jimmy was smooth. Overconfident. Tall but on the heavy side. Dressed in a pricey, well-fitting suit. Handsome for a man Walker guessed to be around sixty years old. Tanned with white hair, and ever-so-faint scars where he’d had his fade hitched up near the front of his well-groomed, old-fashioned sideburns.
Rennie studied the view, nodding with approval. He finally sat down across from Robert. Smiling with big, perfect white teeth that were probably very expensive dentures, he said mildly, “What’s this all about, sir?“
“Charles Pottinger ‘s been murdered in his bath here in this house.“
“No!“ he said, seeming only mildly surprised. “That explains his absence this morning and our having to replay one of his best speeches.“ Walker relaxed back into his chair, staring at Rennie and saying nothing. He’d learned that silence with an individual like this was usually the best policy.
“How was he killed?“ Rennie asked.
“He was stabbed.“
“I presume the others who were missing from the Institute were here with him?“
“Whom do you mean?“ Walker asked as if it were only a matter of curiosity.
“Price, Hazard, and Kinsey,“ he said with a faint smile. “It was awfully quiet up there over the weekend with them missing.”
Walker didn’t reply. A long silence ensued. Finally Jimmy Rennie leaned forward and asked, “Why have you brought me here?“
“Why do you think?“
“Because I was the reason for the meeting, I assume.“
“That’s one of them,“ Walker said casually.
“What are the other reasons?”
Walker tented his fingers as if deep in thought.
He finally said, “Can you account for
“Wow!“ Jack said. “What a deal! This might make you famous, Howard—the guy who pulled the plug on these pious B ible-thumping phonies.”
Walker gave Jack a wry look and turned to Ralph. “Harry Harbinger and Robert are keeping three of them on the third floor. You need to take over. And Chief Coiling is loaning us another officer and a fingerprint expert. Go upstairs and herd them back into the dining room for luncheon. The outside doors have been locked and Harry has the key. You stay in the dining room with them and I’ll let you know when you can turn them loose.”
Chapter 9
Lily, Howard Walker, and the Prinneys were having lunch in the kitchen when Robert came in to tell Walker that he had a new bunch of guests: Big Jimmy Rennie, the enormous Deputy Lawrence on loan, and another deputy who was taking the car they’d arrived in back to Chief Colling’s station. There was also a tall, thin man with a locked box of fingerprinting materials who introduced himself as Detective Williams.
“May I take them into the dining room?“ Walker asked nobody in particular. He stuffed the last of his meat loaf sandwich in his mouth and swigged it down with a gulp of Mrs. Prinney s fake coffee made of chicory.
Everyone nodded vague agreement with his request. As Walker headed into the front entry, he thanked the deputy who was about to leave and directed the other three men to the dining room. Detective Williams took the suspects’ fingerprints, including Big Jimmy Rennie’s, before he went upstairs to start collecting the same from objects in their rooms.
When Big Jimmy Rennie had been fingerprinted, Walker escorted him to the library. Wiping his hands carefully to get rid of the ink, Rennie took a leisurely look around the room. He cast his glance over the glass-fronted bookshelves, the long, graceful table in the center, and stood, relaxed, by a leather chair next to the French windows that overlooked the magnificent view of the Hudson flowing along below and behind the mansion.
Walker studied the man before sitting down at the table. Considering what he was named, Walker had expected a sloppy man, probably Irish, with a beer belly, red hair, and a florid, blotched face. That would teach him a good lesson in forming impressions of people he hadn’t met.
Big Jimmy was smooth. Overconfident. Tall but on the heavy side. Dressed in a pricey, well-fitting suit. Handsome for a man Walker guessed to be around sixty years old. Tanned with white hair, and ever-so-faint scars where he’d had his fade hitched up near the front of his well-groomed, old-fashioned sideburns.
Rennie studied the view, nodding with approval. He finally sat down across from Robert. Smiling with big, perfect white teeth that were probably very expensive dentures, he said mildly, “What’s this all about, sir?“
“Charles Pottinger ‘s been murdered in his bath here in this house.“
“No!“ he said, seeming only mildly surprised. “That explains his absence this morning and our having to replay one of his best speeches.“ Walker relaxed back into his chair, staring at Rennie and saying nothing. He’d learned that silence with an individual like this was usually the best policy.
“How was he killed?“ Rennie asked.
“He was stabbed.“
“I presume the others who were missing from the Institute were here with him?“
“Whom do you mean?“ Walker asked as if it were only a matter of curiosity.
“Price, Hazard, and Kinsey,“ he said with a faint smile. “It was awfully quiet up there over the weekend with them missing.”
Walker didn’t reply. A long silence ensued. Finally Jimmy Rennie leaned forward and asked, “Why have you brought me here?“
“Why do you think?“
“Because I was the reason for the meeting, I assume.“
“That’s one of them,“ Walker said casually.
“What are the other reasons?”
Walker tented his fingers as if deep in thought.
He finally said, “Can you account for
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