The Brink of Murder by Helen Nielsen

had left standing on the street with the keys in it. Later they picked up Kevin and started out to go to a football game. Kevin thought the car was borrowed. There was an accident. One of the boys was hurt.”
    “Kevin wasn’t driving, was he?”
    “No, he doesn’t even have a licence. But because of the accident the police found out the car was stolen and there was quite a mess. If it hadn’t been for Knox—Captain Reardon—Kevin might have been in real trouble.”
    “If he was innocent?”
    “Simon, Kevin is the son of a well-to-do man. To some people the wealthy are never innocent. Luckily, the man who owned the stolen car was reasonable. He dropped the charges when the boys in the car all chipped in and paid the damages. Afterwards, Barney asked me not to invite Knox to the house again.”
    “Why? If he helped—?”
    “I don’t understand all of it. Barney said Kevin was at a rebellious age and having a policeman around would only encourage him. He talked it over with Knox, I guess. That’s why I haven’t called him about Barney. Because of what Barney said.”
    “How long have you known Captain Reardon?”
    “Years. I think Barney knew him before I did. He and Knox belong to the same club. They play golf together quite a bit.”
    “What about Mrs Reardon?”
    “There is no Mrs Reardon. Knox is a bachelor—a man dedicated to his work, I understand. Maybe that’s why he used to come to the house so much—because of the children. Bachelors get a kind of home-and-family fever when they reach middle age, I think.”
    Simon grinned. “I didn’t wait that long.”
    “I know. And I’m so happy for you. You have a lovely wife. But maybe Mary Sutton was right. I suppose I should call Knox now. He would know what to do and I don’t think Barney would mind as long as it’s nothing concerning Kevin.”
    But Carole Amling never called Captain Reardon. She didn’t have the opportunity.
    • • •
    They reached the airport in good time. Simon followed the traffic pattern to the Pan-Am area and turned in. He was receiving his time-dated claim check from the automatic dispenser when he noticed an unusual activity at the far end of the lane. He proceeded slowly and found a parking space about twenty yards from the place where a black and white prowl car with flashing lights was blocking the passage. Taking Carole by the arm, he hurried down to see what was causing the activity. The police car was parked near a silver-grey Continental sedan. Even before Carole told him it was Barney’s car, he saw the chrome initials BA on the door. As they approached, a tow car swung in behind the sedan and a man leaped out to attach a chain to the rear bumper of the Continental.
    Carole ran forward, keys in hand. “What are you doing?” she cried. “This is my car!”
    A stocky plainclothesman in a wrinkled, tan raincoat crawled out from behind the steering wheel of the prowl car and looked at Carole Amling as if she had just walked into the men’s room. He had the enigmatic face of a seasoned cop who didn’t really like anybody.
    “Are you Bernard Amling, lady?” he asked.
    “I’m his wife.”
    “Where’s Bernard Amling?”
    Carole started to reply but Simon pulled back on her arm and stepped forward.
    “You’re confiscating private property,” Simon said.
    “Yeah, I know.” The officer turned and yelled back to the man in the tow truck. “That’s okay. You’re in good position. Hook her up.”
    “By what authority are you confiscating private property?” Simon demanded.
    The man hauled a badge and identity card out of his pocket. He was Lieutenant Albert Wabash and he didn’t like Simon, either. “I got my orders,” he said. “Who are you?”
    “I’m a lawyer,” Simon said.
    “Great! That’s all we need here—a legal brain. Have you got a court order or something?”
    “Not yet. We just arrived.”
    “Good. Go ahead with that tow chain. Let’s get outa here. My sinuses are killing