The Suspect - L R Wright Read Online Free Page B

driver." The
sergeant was fond of categorizing people by blood. Mediterranean
types were notoriously fast-moving and quick-tempered; Englishmen
were cold and logical; the French couldn't tell the truth to save
their lives; and then, of course, there was the lusty Slav....
    "What else?" said Alberg.
    Sokolowski checked his notebook. "I've sent
Sanducci out to start looking for the weapon. Called the detachment,
got more guys coming to help him and talk to the neighbors. Next
I was figuring to get on the blower to Vancouver."
    It was a small but rambling house, comfortably
sprawled upon a large lot. The laurel which hedged the property on
three sides was eight feet tall and about six feet thick. The yard
and the house were sleek, well maintained.
    " Yeah,” said Alberg. "Get on to
Vancouver. But all we want is an ident man. If he moves his tail, he
can make the four thirty ferry. Anything else?"
    "The old fellow who found the body says the
victim had a habit of leaving his doors open.” Sokolowski was
sweating in the afternoon sun. "We oughta get him to take a look
around, see if anything's missing. Doesn't look like it to me, but
you never know.”
    They heard a car pull up with a squeal of brakes.
It's going to look like the detachment parking lot out there, thought
Alberg.
    "Okay," he said. "Sounds good. Get the
reinforcements to work fast. We want the weapon, and we want
something from the neighbors—an individual, a vehicle, sounds from
the victim's house—whatever we can get."
    Three constables and a corporal arrived through the
gate in the hedge and stood nearby, waiting to be dispatched.
    "I'll talk to Wilcox," Alberg went on. "Get
Redding to call the district coroner's office. Gainer, go tell those
ambulance guys not to hold their breath out there. Get the place
roped off and sealed,” he said to the sergeant. "And Sid, when
the guys check the neighborhood, don't let them forget the beach.
Anybody wandering around out there, any boats close to shore."
Sokolowski nodded. "There's one thing," he said. "A
salmon in the kitchen sink. ln a plastic bag. Looks like he bought it
today, or somebody gave it to him, and he never got around to putting
it in the fridge."
    "Did Wilcox bring it?"
    "He says no.”
    "Okay. Good." Alberg grinned. "So
we've got something specific to ask the civilians: Any salmon
peddlers around today?"
    Gainer returned from talking to the ambulance
attendants. "They say they'd just as soon hang around," he
said. "The hospital can get them on the radio, if they need
them."
    Alberg sighed. "Better get the ropes up fast,
Sid. This place is going to be the Number One attraction around here.
Come on, Freddie. Let's take a look inside."
    The flower beds in front of the windows were
undisturbed. The concrete steps were unmarked. The constable standing
by the half-open door stood stiffly aside as Alberg approached. He
looked a bit pale.
    "This your first homicide, Constable?" Ken
Coomer had joined the detachment in January, after a two-year posting
in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan.
    "It's the first one I've actually been involved
in, Staff. That is—I mean, the first one I've been on the scene
of." He looked to be about sixteen, which of course was
impossible. "I've seen road-accident stuff that's a lot worse
than this. It's just that—it's deliberate, you know what l mean,
Staff?" His forehead crinkled as he tried to explain. "I
mean, it's just a lot different, that's all, when it's deliberate."
    Alberg nodded and went past him, into the hall,
followed by Gainer.
    The house smelled of flowers. That was the first
thing he noticed.
    At the end of the hall he stood looking at the body,
which lay directly ahead, on a rug in front of a large window. Then
he gazed around the room. It was remarkably serene. The sweet scent
of blossoms was stronger; apparently it came from a vase of large
pink flowers, lush and frilled, that stood on a coffee table in front
of a chesterfield. Alberg could see nothing in the room