A Flicker of Doubt - Tim Myers [14]
Morton got out of his car, glanced casually in our direction, then did a double take and approached us. Don’t tell me this is about you two snooping around where you don’t belong.”
I pointed to the open door. “We just got here. There must be somebody else inside.”
Morton said, “Don’t go anywhere,” then pulled out his revolver and started for the door.
After two minutes, he came around the back way and walked over to us. “Surprise, surprise, nobody was there.”
“They were there. We saw them go in.”
The sheriff was doing his best to ignore Markum, a hard thing to do given the man’s physical presence. “You. What did they look like?’
Markum said, “One of them was already inside, so we didn’t see him, but we did hear his voice. The one still outside wore an expensive black suit He was average, that’s all I can give you.”
“Come on, you can do better than that. Try.”
Markum tilted his chin to one side, then finally said, “His hair was dark, but I didn’t see his eyes. He stood a little undo’ six feet tall and weighed about one-eighty-five.”
“That’s better,” the sheriff snapped. “What else did you see?”
“Hey, all I got was a quick look. So who called you?’
The sheriff said, “A concerned neighbor called nine- one-one. Do you two really believe I’m buying your story?”
I stared at him as I said, “Frankly, it really doesn’t matter to me what you believe. You still think Becka killed herself.”
“Harrison, don’t start with me.”
I shrugged, but didn’t say a word, though I’m certain he noticed the insolence in my expression.
Morton shook his head, then said, “What a waste of my time. Both of you stay here.”
He took off on foot in the direction of the super’s apartment, and after he was in deep conversation with the man who answered his knock, I asked, “What are we supposed to do now, just sit here and wait?”
“We don’t have much choice,” Markum said. “Give me a second. I’m trying to read the super’s lips.”
“Where did you learn to do that?” I asked.
‘It comes in handy in my line of work.” I saw him studying the man’s face, and finally, Markum said, “He’s not admitting to anything.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
The super pointed to a nearby apartment, and Morton walked over there. An older woman in a bathrobe and curlers answered the door, and as Morton spoke to her, she looked squarely at us both. After a few moments, she shook her head and went back inside.
“Is that good or bad?”
Markum said, “I think we’re in good shape, but don’t say anything that might make the sheriff suspicious.”
“You mean more than he already is?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if there was anything short of a full confession that would make him surer that we were up to something.
Twenty seconds later, Morton was back. He said, “I’m pretty sure your mystery men bribed the super to get in, but he won’t admit it, and without that, what can I do about it?”
“What did that woman have to say?” I asked. “And why was she looking right at us?”
Morton huffed out a breath. “I wanted to see if you two were the ones she saw going into Becka’s apartment. She cleared you both. Funny, she gave me the same description you did, Markum. It was almost like she’d been coached.”
Markum said softly, “Or it could have been that we were both telling the truth. Did you consider that possibility?”
“Briefly,” the sheriff said.
I felt the weight of the money in my pocket. “So, can we go?”
Morton looked like he wanted to spit. “Go? You shouldn’t have been here in the first place.”
As I drove off, I felt the relief of our escape. ‘That was close.”
“Not by a mile, Harrison.”
“You’re not the one with somebody else’s grand in your front pocket”
“No, but that can be explained easier than the files under my seat and Becka’s answering machine tape in my possession, Harrison, how would you like a drink?”
“A drink’s the last thing I need in the world right now. Markum, what about those men we saw? What were they after? Should we just leave? What if they comeback?”
“Morton’s probably going to have somebody