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.BothAtys Jones and Willie Wyman had confirmed to me that the late Landron Mobley,in addition to being a client of Elliot s, had been one of Bowen s attackdogs.Mobley, it seemed, had also been helping the Larousses hunt down Atysbefore Marianne s death.Now another link between the Larousses and Bowen hadbeen revealed.At my car I turned to Kittim.He had replaced his sunglasses, obscuring hiseyes.An object lay on the ground between us.He pointed his finger at it. You dropped something, said Kittim.It was a black skullcap, ringed with a red and gold band.Blood had soakedinto it.It hadn t been there when I d parked. I don t think so, I said. I suggest you take it with you.I m sure you know some old kikes who d beglad to receive it.It might answer some questions that they have. He backed away from me, made a pistol from the finger and thumb of his righthand, then fired it at me as a farewell. I ll be seeing you, he said.I picked up the skullcap from the ground and wiped the dirt from it.Therewas no name inside it, but I knew that it could only have come from onesource.I drove as far as the nearest strip mall and made a call to New York.When the end of the working day came with no contact from Elliot, I decidedto go looking for him.I drove out to his house, but the workmen hadn t seenhim since the day before, and as far as they could tell, he hadn t slept inthe house the previous night.I headed back to Charleston and decided to checkthe tag number of Elliot s dining companion from earlier in the week.I tookout my laptop, and ignoring the E-mail notifications, went straight to theWeb.I entered the license plate on three databases, including the huge NCIand CDB Infotek services as well as SubTrace, which flirted with illegalityand was more expensive than regular searches but was faster too.I red-flaggedthe SubTrace request and got a response less than an hour later.Elliot hadbeen arguing with one Adele Foster of 1200 Bees Tree Drive, Charleston.IPage 163 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlfound Bees Tree on my DeLorme street atlas and headed out.Number 1200 was an impressive classical revival tabby manse that must havebeen more than a century old, its facade constructed from a mixture of oystershell and lime mortar and dominated by a two-tiered entry porch supported byslender white columns.The SUV was parked to the right of the house.I walkedslowly up the central staircase, stood in the shade of the porch, and rang thedoorbell.The sound of it echoed in the hallway beyond, eventually losingitself in the sound of firm footsteps on the boards before the door opened.Ihalf-expected Hattie McDaniel to be standing before me in a pinafore, butinstead it was the woman I had seen arguing with Elliot Norton on my firstnight in town.Behind her, dark wood extended through the empty white hallwaylike muddy water through snow. Yes? And suddenly I didn t know what to say.I wasn t even sure why I had comehere, except that I couldn t find Elliot and something told me that theargument I had witnessed went beyond any professional issue, that there wasmore between them than a typical client-lawyer relationship.Also, seeing herup close for the first time, I was confirmed in another suspicion that I had:she was wearing widow s weeds.All she needed was a hat and a veil and thelook would have been complete. I m sorry to disturb you, I said. My name is Charlie Parker.I m a privateinvestigator. I was about to reach into my pocket for id but a movement on her face stoppedme.Her expression didn t soften, exactly, but something flashed across it,like a tree moving in the wind that briefly allows moonlight to flash throughits branches and illuminate the bare ground beneath. You re him, aren t you? she said softly. You re the one that he hired. If you mean Elliot Norton, then yes, I m the one. Did he send you here? There was no hostility in the question.Instead, Ithought there was something almost plaintive in it. No, I saw you& talking to him in a restaurant two nights ago. Briefly, she smiled. I m not sure that talking was what we were doing.Didhe tell you who I was? To be honest, I didn t tell him that I d seen you together, but I made anote of your license plate. She pursed her lips. How very farsighted of you.Is that how you usuallybehave: making notes on women you ve never met? If she was expecting me to act embarrassed, she was disappointed. Sometimes, I said. I m trying to give it up, but the flesh is weak. So why are you here? I was wondering if you might have seen Elliot. Instantly, there was worry on her face.Page 164 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Not since that night.Is something wrong? I don t know.Can I come in, Ms.Foster? She blinked. How do you know my name? No, let me guess, the same way youfound out where I lived, right? Jesus, nothing s private anymore. I waited, anticipating the closing of the door in my face.Instead, shestepped to one side and gestured for me to enter.I followed her into thehallway and the door closed softly behind me.There was no furniture in the hall, not even a hat stand.Before me, astaircase swept up to the second floor and the bedrooms.To my right was adining room, a bare table surrounded by ten chairs at its center.To my leftwas a living room.I followed her into it.She took a seat at one end of apale gold couch, and I eased myself into an armchair close by.Somewhere, aclock ticked, but otherwise the house was silent. Elliot s missing? I didn t say that.I ve left messages.So far, he hasn t replied. She digested the information.It seemed to disagree with her. And you thought that I might know where he is? You met him for dinner.I figured that you might be friends. What kind of friends? The kind that have dinner together.What do you want me to say, Ms.Foster? I don t know, and it sMrs.Foster. I started to apologize but she waved it away. It s not important, she said. I suppose you want to know about Elliot and me? I didn t reply.I wasn t going to pry into her affairs any more than wasnecessary, but if she felt the need to talk then I d listen in the hope that Imight learn something from her. Hell, you saw us fighting, you can probably guess the rest [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.BothAtys Jones and Willie Wyman had confirmed to me that the late Landron Mobley,in addition to being a client of Elliot s, had been one of Bowen s attackdogs.Mobley, it seemed, had also been helping the Larousses hunt down Atysbefore Marianne s death.Now another link between the Larousses and Bowen hadbeen revealed.At my car I turned to Kittim.He had replaced his sunglasses, obscuring hiseyes.An object lay on the ground between us.He pointed his finger at it. You dropped something, said Kittim.It was a black skullcap, ringed with a red and gold band.Blood had soakedinto it.It hadn t been there when I d parked. I don t think so, I said. I suggest you take it with you.I m sure you know some old kikes who d beglad to receive it.It might answer some questions that they have. He backed away from me, made a pistol from the finger and thumb of his righthand, then fired it at me as a farewell. I ll be seeing you, he said.I picked up the skullcap from the ground and wiped the dirt from it.Therewas no name inside it, but I knew that it could only have come from onesource.I drove as far as the nearest strip mall and made a call to New York.When the end of the working day came with no contact from Elliot, I decidedto go looking for him.I drove out to his house, but the workmen hadn t seenhim since the day before, and as far as they could tell, he hadn t slept inthe house the previous night.I headed back to Charleston and decided to checkthe tag number of Elliot s dining companion from earlier in the week.I tookout my laptop, and ignoring the E-mail notifications, went straight to theWeb.I entered the license plate on three databases, including the huge NCIand CDB Infotek services as well as SubTrace, which flirted with illegalityand was more expensive than regular searches but was faster too.I red-flaggedthe SubTrace request and got a response less than an hour later.Elliot hadbeen arguing with one Adele Foster of 1200 Bees Tree Drive, Charleston.IPage 163 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlfound Bees Tree on my DeLorme street atlas and headed out.Number 1200 was an impressive classical revival tabby manse that must havebeen more than a century old, its facade constructed from a mixture of oystershell and lime mortar and dominated by a two-tiered entry porch supported byslender white columns.The SUV was parked to the right of the house.I walkedslowly up the central staircase, stood in the shade of the porch, and rang thedoorbell.The sound of it echoed in the hallway beyond, eventually losingitself in the sound of firm footsteps on the boards before the door opened.Ihalf-expected Hattie McDaniel to be standing before me in a pinafore, butinstead it was the woman I had seen arguing with Elliot Norton on my firstnight in town.Behind her, dark wood extended through the empty white hallwaylike muddy water through snow. Yes? And suddenly I didn t know what to say.I wasn t even sure why I had comehere, except that I couldn t find Elliot and something told me that theargument I had witnessed went beyond any professional issue, that there wasmore between them than a typical client-lawyer relationship.Also, seeing herup close for the first time, I was confirmed in another suspicion that I had:she was wearing widow s weeds.All she needed was a hat and a veil and thelook would have been complete. I m sorry to disturb you, I said. My name is Charlie Parker.I m a privateinvestigator. I was about to reach into my pocket for id but a movement on her face stoppedme.Her expression didn t soften, exactly, but something flashed across it,like a tree moving in the wind that briefly allows moonlight to flash throughits branches and illuminate the bare ground beneath. You re him, aren t you? she said softly. You re the one that he hired. If you mean Elliot Norton, then yes, I m the one. Did he send you here? There was no hostility in the question.Instead, Ithought there was something almost plaintive in it. No, I saw you& talking to him in a restaurant two nights ago. Briefly, she smiled. I m not sure that talking was what we were doing.Didhe tell you who I was? To be honest, I didn t tell him that I d seen you together, but I made anote of your license plate. She pursed her lips. How very farsighted of you.Is that how you usuallybehave: making notes on women you ve never met? If she was expecting me to act embarrassed, she was disappointed. Sometimes, I said. I m trying to give it up, but the flesh is weak. So why are you here? I was wondering if you might have seen Elliot. Instantly, there was worry on her face.Page 164 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Not since that night.Is something wrong? I don t know.Can I come in, Ms.Foster? She blinked. How do you know my name? No, let me guess, the same way youfound out where I lived, right? Jesus, nothing s private anymore. I waited, anticipating the closing of the door in my face.Instead, shestepped to one side and gestured for me to enter.I followed her into thehallway and the door closed softly behind me.There was no furniture in the hall, not even a hat stand.Before me, astaircase swept up to the second floor and the bedrooms.To my right was adining room, a bare table surrounded by ten chairs at its center.To my leftwas a living room.I followed her into it.She took a seat at one end of apale gold couch, and I eased myself into an armchair close by.Somewhere, aclock ticked, but otherwise the house was silent. Elliot s missing? I didn t say that.I ve left messages.So far, he hasn t replied. She digested the information.It seemed to disagree with her. And you thought that I might know where he is? You met him for dinner.I figured that you might be friends. What kind of friends? The kind that have dinner together.What do you want me to say, Ms.Foster? I don t know, and it sMrs.Foster. I started to apologize but she waved it away. It s not important, she said. I suppose you want to know about Elliot and me? I didn t reply.I wasn t going to pry into her affairs any more than wasnecessary, but if she felt the need to talk then I d listen in the hope that Imight learn something from her. Hell, you saw us fighting, you can probably guess the rest [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]