Murder in the Supreme Court (Capital Crimes Series Book 3) Read Online Free

course,” Teller said. “Well, thanks for your time. We’ll be in touch.”
    “I suppose you will.” He left through a door to the rear of his office.
    Teller and Susanna went to where Vera Jones sat ramrod straight behind her desk, her hands crossed on the legal pad.
    “Thank you for your time,” Susanna said as she headed for the sliding doors.
    Teller didn’t follow her. He walked to a row of built-in bookcases and perused the books. “Has he read all of these?” he asked.
    “I would imagine so,” Vera said.
    “I have a lot of respect for doctors, especially ones with Dr. Sutherland’s reputation.” He openly admired a large landscape that hung behind her. “That’s a Sutherland, isn’t it?” he asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Graham Sutherland. I always liked his landscapes better than his etchings. Any relation to the family?”
    “Distant.” She led them to an outside door used by patients.
    “Thanks for your time, Miss Jones,” Teller said. “By the way, where were you the night Clarence was murdered?”
    “Here with Dr. Sutherland. We were working on a paper he’d written for a psychiatric journal… he’s widely published.”
    “I’m sure he is. Have a nice day.”
    Teller escorted Susanna to her car. Before getting in she looked back at the house, bit her lip and said, “Strange.”
    “Did you ever know a shrink who wasn’t?”
    “It’s her. She bothers me. I feel sorry for her.”
    “Why?”
    “I don’t know, a type, a sadness in her eyes.”
    “I know what you mean. Say, how are you fixed for dinner tonight?”
    He couldn’t tell whether she legitimately wasn’t sure of her plans or was groping for an excuse. She said, “I’m busy.”
    “Well, maybe another time. Let’s keep in touch.”
    He watched her drive away, then drove back to MPD headquarters. At six he went to his apartment in Georgetown, where he fed his two cats, a male named Beauty, a female named the Beast, put a TV dinner in the oven and settled into his favorite reclining chair. Two paperback books were on a table next to him, a historical novel by Stephanie Blake and a collection of Camus’s writings. He chose Camus, promptly fell asleep and awoke only when the odor of a charred TV dinner was strong enough to get through to him.
    ***
    Across town in a large and tastefully decorated cooperative apartment, Susanna Pinscher said into the telephone in her bedroom, “I love you, too, honey. I’ll see you this weekend. Okay. Pleasant dreams. Let me speak to daddy.”
    Her former husband came on the line. Their three children lived with him by mutual agreement, although Susanna visited freely and had taken them for the entire previous summer. The decision to give her husband custody had been a wrenching one but was, she continued to tell herself, the right one.
    “Everything okay?” she asked.
    “No problems. How about you?”
    “Exhausted. They’ve assigned me to the Sutherland case.”
    “A biggie. That’s all everyone talks about these days.”
    “I don’t wonder. Murder in the Supreme Court. A first.”
    “Take care of yourself, Susanna. You’ll be out this weekend?”
    “Yes. Good night.”
    She prowled through the apartment, ending up in the kitchen, where she made herself an English muffin and coffee. She hadn’t had dinner, had come straight home from the office, her briefcase bulging. She’d changed into a nightgown and robe and read until calling the kids.
    She finished the muffin and went to the bedroom, whereshe took an art book from a shelf. She climbed into bed and found an entry on the British artist Graham Sutherland. She read it, closed the book and turned out the light, wondering as she did why a detective from the MPD would know anything about a relatively obscure British artist.
    What was law and order coming to?…

CHAPTER 4
    Supreme Court Justice Temple Conover sat in the sunny breakfast room of his home in Bethesda. He wore a pale blue flannel robe, blue terry-cloth slippers and a