The Christie Caper - Carolyn Hart [64]
“I’m Frank Saulter, chief of police for Broward’s Rock. I would like to have a few minutes of your time.”
Several hundred eyes settled on him.
Max began to edge toward the nearest exit. Annie carefully gave no indication she’d noticed. But she needn’t have worried. The advent of a genuine police officer held her conference-goers in thrall.
“Police officers sometimes find it helpful to take the public into their confidence. This,” Saulter said grimly, “is one of those times. I need the assistance of every person here to prevent a murder.”
Gasps. Rustles. A questioning murmur. Some cynical smiles.
Saulter saw those. “No, this isn’t part of Mrs. Darling’s entertainment for you. I only wish it were.” He paused until it was absolutely quiet. Annie was impressed. This wasn’t an easy crowd to quell. “Twice,” the chief emphasized, “since this conference opened, murder has been attempted.” Quickly, he sketched the shooting at Death on Demand on Saturday night. “Today someone pushed a four-foot vase from the roof above the Palmetto Court. The vase narrowly missed hitting Mr. Neil Bledsoe, who is also attending this conference. Now,” Saulter planted his hands on the table, leaned forward, and intently eyed his listeners, “anyone who has at any time ever had personal or professional dealings with Mr. Bledsoe is requested to come to the Card Room, which is directly off the main lobby near the coffee shop. Furthermore, if any one of you has any information about the shooting or the vase incident, please come to the Card Room.”
A babble of voices broke out.
Saulter overrode them. “Should it become apparent that anyone here knows Mr. Bledsoe and does not come to the Card Room, I will consider that a very serious lack of cooperation with law enforcement authorities and will issue a warrant for that person’s arrest on suspicion of murder. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that Mr. Bledsoe is cooperating wholeheartedly with the authorities and has checked the registration list for this conference and indicated the names familiar to him in any way.”
So the vase got macho man’s attention. It was about time Bledsoe cooperated. And this call for anyone knowing Bledsoe to come forward was a brilliant stroke on the chief’s part. Annie hoped Saulter soon discovered the culprit The person who pushed that vase could not have known with absolute certainty that an innocent victim wouldn’t walk into its path.
“Finally,” Saulter exhorted, “I want to enlist all of you—and you people can think or you wouldn’t read mysteries—I want to enlist all of you as unofficial safety officers. Keep your eyes open. If you see anything odd, suspicious, or unusual, report it to me. Especially keep your eyes open when Mr. Bledsoe is present.” He gave a short, sharp nod. “Thank you very much.”
He faced Annie, and he was still looking stern and official. “All right, Annie, get this thing started. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Inspector.” Despite the outburst of excited chatter at Saulter’s conclusion, Lady Gwendolyn’s musical voice was clearly heard. “A curious parallel exists here. I believe it is important to consider the effects of Christie’s modus operandi—”
Saulter, normally the most courteous of listeners, broke in impatiently. “Lady Gwendolyn, it would be a privilege to discuss Mrs. Christie with you at any other time. Right now I’m involved in an investigation.” He managed a tight smile and swung on his heel.
Lady Gwendolyn’s plump cheeks puffed and her vivid blue eyes blazed. If she had been a cat, she would have hissed. As it was, she turned toward Annie, her pleasant face uncommonly determined.
Annie held up a hand placatingly. “Just a minute, Lady Gwendolyn. I’d better start the hunt before this crowd explodes.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Annie shouted. When relative silence reigned, Annie said smoothly, “The organizers of this conference regret very much the unpleasant episodes which have