Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 52, No. 7 & 8, July/August 2007
- Автор: Baldwin Barry, Campbell Melodie
- Год: 2007
- Язык: английский
- Год: Dell Magazines
- ISBN: ISSN:0002-5224
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 52, No. 7 & 8, July/August 2007». Краткое содержание книги:
She studied the card I’d given her for a moment, then the green eyes looked at me, her thin lips somewhat pushed out. “Okay, Mr. Oaks,” she nodded, “just what can I do for you?”
“Running an errand for a friend of yours, Mira Navilone. If I could just get a few minutes of your time.”
She looked around the place. There were a half dozen or so women digging about in the racks of clothing, some assisted by staff members while mannequins stood sentry in evening gowns and lingerie.
“I guess I can give you a few minutes,” she said. “Come on, we can talk outside.”
I followed her out of the shop into the mall and over to the railing that afforded a view of the shoppers milling about on the first floor.
“Ever stand on the edge of someplace high up and feel like jumping?” she asked, leaning slightly over the railing. “The urge is supposed to be in all of us.” She turned back to me, smiling. “I’ve never felt it.” She paused, waved a finger at me. “You’re the guy that dropped the hammer on Mira’s so-called boyfriend?”
“I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
“Back in school I was the one with all the dates, and she was the one who kept her nose in the books. I used to try to get her to get out, have some fun. Then I guess the first guy she finally makes some connections with turns out to be a murderer. When I first heard about it, I thought she’d dig a hole and hide forever.”
“She’s managed it very well.”
“Yes, I know. She actually looked me up. We’ve had a lot of long girl talks. I’ve helped her with her makeup, some clothing selections. She’s still a work in progress, but we’re getting there.” She paused again. “What did you say you wanted to talk about?”
“That party you took Mira to. She thinks she might’ve lost a bracelet there. It was something her grandmother gave her, and she’d like to get it back if possible before the old girl finds out it’s missing.” I’d come up with the bracelet story on the drive over, hoping it was a plausible enough excuse for my being here.
“I met her grandmother once when Mira and I were roommates. She seemed like a sweet old lady, but Mira said she could be a bear.” She shrugged. “You know, I’ve spoken to Mira since the party, she didn’t say anything about a bracelet.”
“Got me, I’m just a hired hand.”
She reached over and gave my left bicep a little squeeze. Shaking her head, she said, “If you were my hired hand, I wouldn’t have you running around looking for some old bracelet. I’m going to have another long talk with Mira.” She paused, moistening her lips with her tongue. “Well, anyway, the party was at Dexter Drexall’s. He’s in advertising. He hit the big 5–0. Great guy. We had a blast.”
“So I heard. I was curious about something, though...”
The bright green eyes looked quizzically upon me.
“You drove Mira to the party, any particular reason why you didn’t drop her off back home?”
“Didn’t Mira tell you?” She showed some dentist’s masterpiece in her smile. “I, uh, hooked up with the guy I knew, and we left before the party was over. I did check with Mira first, she said she was okay with it. Said she’d met somebody herself.”
“Did she say who?”
“Sure you’re just a hired hand?”
“Just thinking of all the ways a bracelet can come up missing.”
“Sounds more like you’re checking up on her.”
“I assure you I—”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Anyway, I haven’t the slightest idea who she was talking about. I was just glad she’d found someone. It freed me up. I guess I was thinking more of myself at the time.”
On the way to the parking garage I examined my impression of Alicia Perkins. Naturally, one of the first things on my mind was had she sat Mira up? It was a possibility, but I couldn’t honestly say I felt that way. From what I saw of the dress shop, it looked to be a prosperous operation. Not to say that Alicia didn’t have money problems; after all, this is Vegas.
But a lot of what I do in this business is on gut reaction. And right now my gut reaction of Alicia pegged her as being not as flighty as she pretended to be, definitely a flirt, and above all, a good friend to Mira.
The address that Alicia had given me for Dexter Drexall was up in Summerlin, near Charleston and Town Center. The place where Mira had said the money drop was to have taken place was on the tail end of Lake Mead by the auto junkyards. Both locations were north of the Fashion Show Mall, Summerlin to the west, and the money drop maybe twice the distance longer to the east.
Since I didn’t know the exact address of the money drop, logic dictated I head out there first. Well, my logic anyway.
It hadn’t rained any more; in fact, the sky was clear and the sun was doing its best to turn the rest of the day into a pleasant one. I took I15 out to Lake Mead, making it in under a half hour, which was pretty decent. During drive time, when folks are going to and from work, the freeways out here can turn into parking lots real quick.
Heading east on Lake Mead, the junkyards were on my left, with the majority of the warehouses and construction sites on my right. It took me three tries before I found the right white single-story building. It was set back off the street a good forty yards or so, and from the looks of the place it hadn’t been used for much of anything lately. Of the four windows facing the street, three were boarded up, and the glass of the other one was cracked. There was no driveway, paved or otherwise, and I kicked up a little dust storm as I pulled up to the place.
The place looked deserted, but I knocked anyway. I got no response so I tried again, louder this time. I tried the door next. It was unlocked and opened inward. I was confronted with a big empty shell of a building, well empty except for a few crates at the far end of the building on my right. Shafts of light came through several holes in the high ceiling, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air. Even with the holes in the ceiling there was a stuffiness about the place. The building probably hadn’t been in use for over a year. An ideal spot for the money drop.
Coming out here was a longshot. I’d hoped to get some kind of hint of where the money had gone, but truthfully, I knew the chance of that happening was pretty slim, and I was expecting to come up empty handed. I definitely wasn’t expecting to find a body lying on the floor behind the crates. He was on his back, his arms stretched out above his head, his right hand still clutching a nickel-plated automatic. As far as I could see he’d only been shot once, right at the bridge of the nose of his Al Sharpton mask.
One of the guys in the photo with Mira? It was an easy enough assumption.
The crates also hid an oblong table from my view. The body was on the floor at one end of the table; a metal bowl sat on the table at the opposite end along with a can of lighter fluid. Ashes and twisted celluloid filled the bowl.
I wasn’t a math major, but I never had any trouble adding two and two. Rimmey had destroyed the photographs and negatives after pocketing one print for himself. While the light show was going on he’d probably shot the guy in the Al Sharpton mask in an effort to get the money for himself. But I hadn’t found the money in Rimmey’s car, so the odds are the guy in the Al Sharpton mask hadn’t been alone, most likely his buddy was “George Bush” from the photos. Rimmey hadn’t been able to get both of them, getting himself shot instead, and the guy in the George Bush mask had made off with the money. It didn’t explain everything, but I had a feeling I was pretty damn close.
Tampering with evidence at the scene of a crime, especially where there is a death involved, is a big fat no-no. There was nothing I could do about the slug in the guy on the floor, which I was sure ballistics would match to Rimmey’s revolver. But I couldn’t let the ashes of the photos stay around; there was no telling what Metro’s forensics team might be able to piece together.