Gravedigger Read Online Free

I know so well how his warped mind works. I can see him digging out that insurance policy, rubbing his hands, sitting down at his desk to write that letter.”
    “Banner Insurance agrees with you,” Dave said. “But how can you be sure? You say you haven’t heard from her. The photo shows she was there. That is Serenity, isn’t it? Scotty Dekker says it is.”
    “Why would she go there?” It was a cry of protest.
    “She was on dope,” Dave said. “She went some pretty low places, even before she ran away. Scotty told me about the room with the mattress and the rats in Venice.”
    “That was playacting,” Anna Westover scoffed. “For my benefit. I was divorcing her cherished father. She was punishing me, trying to drive me back to him.”
    “And you weren’t having any,” Dave said.
    “I knew him,” she cried. “Serenity didn’t. It wasn’t reasonable. I’d forgiven him everything. There was a case where he won, and he was wild with elation—and the next day, the very next day, both principal witnesses were killed. Oh, certainly, by accident. Yes, of course. One drove off a cliff, the other set fire to his bed with a cigarette and immolated himself. I knew those weren’t accidents. So did the district attorney. Those witnesses had been bought, hadn’t they? And then killed to keep them from blackmailing Chass or his client later. They were not nice men.”
    “The district attorney couldn’t make a case?”
    “Not then,” she said bitterly, “but he remembered and he waited and he made a case at last. Chass bought one too many witnesses for those gangsters who paid him so well. I knew. But what did Serenity know? How could I tell her?”
    “You like folk wisdom,” Dave said. “How about, ‘The truth never hurt anybody’?”
    “You never had children,” she said angrily. “She was fifteen years old. You can’t reason with them at that age. The truth is the last thing they want to hear. He could do no wrong—don’t you understand? So if I was divorcing him when he was in the deepest trouble of his life, who was wrong? Chass?” Her laugh despaired. “Forget it.” She stood up. “And now you tell me she ran to that monster Azrael and he cut the living heart out of her and dumped her in a dirty hole in the desert. And that’s my fault, too, isn’t it?” She doubled her fists. “Oh, you are a horrible man. Get out. Get out of here.”
    “Just the messenger,” Dave said. “I don’t know that she is dead. No one knows. Why jump to conclusions?”
    “Because that’s she!” Anna Westover cried. “That’s Serenity. Standing right next to him in that snapshot. That is my little girl, mister.” And suddenly she was weeping. Hard and loud. She covered her face with her hands and ran stumbling into the washroom. She slammed the door and went on sobbing behind it. He went to the door and rapped gently. She quieted. He said:
    “Don’t cry. You could be right. He tried fraud, and when he didn’t get the check, he figured someone like me would be coming around for the facts, and there weren’t any facts, and anyhow what good was twenty-five thousand dollars going to do him? It wasn’t enough to go to jail for. And that’s why he disappeared. Where would he go, Mrs. Westover? Friends? His parents?”
    “The only friends he had were vicious. He’d saved their rotten skins for them, but when he got into trouble, did any of them come to help him? Be serious.” She opened the door, wiping her nose with tissues, wiping her reddened eyes. “He had no parents.” Her laugh was brief and rueful. “That was part of his charm for me, wasn’t it? An orphan. The pathos of it.” She touched Dave. “Find Serenity, Mr. Brandstetter.” Her hand trembled against his chest. “He doesn’t matter. Find her. Find her alive.”
    “Nothing would please me more,” Dave said, “but I have to find her father too. It’s my job. Where is he?”
    “I don’t know,” she wailed. “How many times