JК
The Lunatic Cafe :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 185 из 234After the show that Richard and Jean-Claude had put on, the Browning was aboutthe only thing I wanted in bed with me tonight. All right, the gun and one stuffed penguin.
32
The phone was ringing. It seemed to have been ringing a long time. I lay in bed listening to it ring, wondering when the hell the machine would pick up. I rolled over, reaching for the phone. It was missing. The ringing was coming from the other room. Shit. I'd forgotten to bring it back in last night.
I crawled out of the warm covers and staggered into the living room. The phone must have rung fifteen times before I got to it. I sank to the floor with the receiver clutched to my ear. "Who is it?"
"Anita?"
"Ronnie?"
"You sound awful."
"I look worse," I said.
"What's up?"
"Later, why are you calling at" — I glanced at my wristwatch—" seven o'clock in the freaking morning. This better be good, Ronnie."
"Oh, it's good, all right. I thought we should catch George Smitz before he goes to work."
"Why?" My face was throbbing. I lay down on the carpet, cradling the phone against my ear. The carpet was very soft.
"Anita, Anita, are you there?"
I blinked and realized I'd fallen asleep. I sat up and leaned against the wall. "I'm here, but I didn't hear a word you said after something about needing to talk to Smitz before work."
"I know you're not a morning person, Anita, but you've never fallen asleep on me before. How much sleep did you get last night?"
"About an hour."
"Oh, God, I am sorry. But I knew you'd want to know. I've found the smoking gun."
"Ronnie, please, what are you talking about?"
"I have pictures of George Smitz with another woman." She let that sink in for a moment or two. "Anita, are you there?"
"I'm here. I'm thinking." The last was harder to do than I wanted it to be. I am never at my best first thing in the morning. After an hour's sleep I wasn't even close to my best. "Why do you say it's a smoking gun?"
"Well, a lot of times a spouse will report the other spouse missing to divert suspicion."
"You think Smitz offed his wife?"
"How poetically you put it, but yes, I do."
"Why? A lot of men cheat on their wives, most of them don't kill them."
"Here's the clincher. After I took the pictures, I talked to a few gun stores in the area. He'd bought some silver bullets at a store near the butcher shop."
"Not very bright," I said.
"Most murderers aren't."
I nodded, realized she couldn't see it, and didn't care. "Fine, looks like Mr.
32
The phone was ringing. It seemed to have been ringing a long time. I lay in bed listening to it ring, wondering when the hell the machine would pick up. I rolled over, reaching for the phone. It was missing. The ringing was coming from the other room. Shit. I'd forgotten to bring it back in last night.
I crawled out of the warm covers and staggered into the living room. The phone must have rung fifteen times before I got to it. I sank to the floor with the receiver clutched to my ear. "Who is it?"
"Anita?"
"Ronnie?"
"You sound awful."
"I look worse," I said.
"What's up?"
"Later, why are you calling at" — I glanced at my wristwatch—" seven o'clock in the freaking morning. This better be good, Ronnie."
"Oh, it's good, all right. I thought we should catch George Smitz before he goes to work."
"Why?" My face was throbbing. I lay down on the carpet, cradling the phone against my ear. The carpet was very soft.
"Anita, Anita, are you there?"
I blinked and realized I'd fallen asleep. I sat up and leaned against the wall. "I'm here, but I didn't hear a word you said after something about needing to talk to Smitz before work."
"I know you're not a morning person, Anita, but you've never fallen asleep on me before. How much sleep did you get last night?"
"About an hour."
"Oh, God, I am sorry. But I knew you'd want to know. I've found the smoking gun."
"Ronnie, please, what are you talking about?"
"I have pictures of George Smitz with another woman." She let that sink in for a moment or two. "Anita, are you there?"
"I'm here. I'm thinking." The last was harder to do than I wanted it to be. I am never at my best first thing in the morning. After an hour's sleep I wasn't even close to my best. "Why do you say it's a smoking gun?"
"Well, a lot of times a spouse will report the other spouse missing to divert suspicion."
"You think Smitz offed his wife?"
"How poetically you put it, but yes, I do."
"Why? A lot of men cheat on their wives, most of them don't kill them."
"Here's the clincher. After I took the pictures, I talked to a few gun stores in the area. He'd bought some silver bullets at a store near the butcher shop."
"Not very bright," I said.
"Most murderers aren't."
I nodded, realized she couldn't see it, and didn't care. "Fine, looks like Mr.