1965 - The Way the Cookie Crumbles Read Online Free

cash balance at the bank of 3,756 dollars.
    ‘I guess he lives here,’ he said. ‘Take a squint at the room opposite.’
    While Lepski was in the other room, Beigler continued to search the smaller bedroom. He found a closet full of Williams’ clothes.
    Lepski came back.
    ‘A knocking shop,’ he said. ‘Who’s the woman?’
    ‘Calls herself Muriel Marsh Devon. She killed herself by an overdose of heroin at La Coquille restaurant tonight. She left a suicide note, admitting she knocked off our handsome lump of beef.’
    Lepski wandered over to the dead man and peered at his chest. He grunted and moved back.
    ‘She certainly made sure of him. Cut his heart to pieces from the look of it.’
    Beigler suddenly stooped and reached under the bed. He carefully drew into sight a .38 automatic. Taking out his handkerchief, he dropped it over the gun and picked it up.
    ‘Nice open and shut case,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t get an hour or two of sleep even now.’
    A car pulled up outside the bungalow and Lepski went to the door. He returned with Dr. Lowis.
    ‘He’s all yours,’ Beigler said and waved to the dead man.
    ‘Thanks for nothing!’ Lowis snapped. ‘Now I have two reports to make.’
    Beigler winked at Lepski and pushed him towards the door.
    ‘Never mind, doc,’ he said. ‘You’re not the only one.’ To Lepski, he said, ‘Let’s get some fresh air.’
    The two men went down the passage and opened the front door. They moved into the garden and both lit cigarettes.
    ‘Funny no one reported the shooting,’ Lepski said, nodding to the bungalow opposite.
    ‘Could be they are on vacation,’ Beigler returned. ‘Besides, this end of Seacombe keeps to itself. Know something? I’ve been on the force ten years now, never had a squeal out of Seacombe yet.’
    ‘I wonder why she gave it to Johnnie. I wonder why he bothered with a two-dollar whore.’
    ‘She was a lot better than that. I’ve seen her. Well dressed; took care of herself. Most men who chase prostitutes like to perform in shabby surroundings. Don’t ask me why.’
    ‘I won’t then.’ Lepski stilled a yawn. ‘I wish the Chief hadn’t yanked me out of bed.’
    ‘Here they come now,’ Beigler said as two cars came racing down the broad boulevard, their headlights lighting up the row of bungalows as the cars swept past.
    Half an hour later Dr. Lowis came out of the bungalow and joined Chief of Police Terrell who was sitting in his car, smoking a pipe, patiently waiting for his men’s reports.
    ‘I’d say he was shot around ten o’clock,’ Lowis said. ‘Five slugs in the heart. Good shooting, but she really couldn’t have missed. She fired from the foot of the bed. I’ll have a report for you by eleven. That all right?’
    Terrell nodded.
    ‘It’ll have to be, doc. Okay, you get off and catch up with some sleep.’
    When Lowis had driven away, Bert Hamilton came out of the bungalow. He had been busy on the telephone, filing his story.
    ‘Plenty of meat in this one,’ he said to Terrell. ‘Got any ideas why she shot him?’
    ‘That’s something I’ll have to find out,’ Terrell said getting out of the car. ‘See you some time, Bert,’ and moving past the reporter, he entered the bungalow.
    Beigler and Hess were talking in the hall.
    ‘All clear here, sir,’ Hess said. ‘A nice, tidy job.’
    ‘It looks like it,’ Terrell returned, ‘but we won’t let it go as easy as that. You two boys go over to East Street and look at her home. Check her handwriting is the same as the suicide note. I think this case is straightforward, but let’s be sure. Have a talk with that dwarf. He seemed full of information. Maybe he can tell us why she shot Williams. I want a report on my desk by ten, so get moving, boys.’
    Hess suppressed a groan.
    ‘Okay, Chief.’
    Terrell went into the dead man’s room where Lepski was propping up the wall, talking to the finger print men who were packing their