"RICHARD_M_ELLIS_-_THE_DARK_WELL" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ellis Richard M)

"Yeah," said Carson. "Way it appears, if he'd got home a few minutes sooner he might've saved his sister's life."

"Or a few minutes later and he might have at least saved his own," I put in. "His timing was lousy."

After the gruesome scene in the back bedroom, studying Lloyd Parmeter's body was almost a relief. He could have been asleep, if you ignored the small circle of blood on the front of his white shirt.

He was dressed for the street, wearing a suit and a light topcoat that had flopped open when he fell. He was on his back, one leg drawn up, arms outflung at his sides. When found, his key had been in his loosely clenched right hand; near his left hand was a briefcase containing business papers.

Parmeter, backed by his sister's money, had operated a local real estate brokerage.

I'd known him slightly and hadn't particularly liked him. His handshake was always a little too hearty, his white-toothed smile a little too sincere, and his gray eyes a little too cold and calculating for me. He'd been in his early forties, a good many years younger than his sister.

As far as I knew, he'd never been married but he had quite a reputation as a ladies' man. I'd heard him quoted as saying it wouldn't be fair to the rest of womankind to tie himself to any one woman.

Deputy Mullins said, "Avery is still checkin' with the neighbors on the block. So far, nobody's turned up who saw or heard anything out of the way around here last night."

Carson went over to squint at a bone-handled knife that was on top of a cloth spread on a coffee table. Mullins followed.

"Nary a print on it," Mullins commented.

I said, "You haven't found the gun he used on Parmeter?"

"Nah, Mr. Gates," said Mullins. "That knife he picked up in the kitchen it matches a set of steak knives in a drawer in there but I reckon the gun was his. He brung it with him, and carried it away. From the size of the hole in this feller's chest, it was a little gun twenty-two, mebbe."

"Big enough," Carson said. "What about that back door we found standin' open?"

Mullins shrugged. "I guess that's the way he got into the house, but he didn't leave no prints on the doorknob, just smudges. He must of wore gloves."

"They always do," sighed the sheriff.

There was a clatter at the open front door and Dr. Johnson came in, followed by two men lugging a long wicker basket between them. They passed through and disappeared down the hall leading to the bedrooms.

I'd been looking at the small heap of torn clothing that Mrs. Ames had evidently been wearing when she was attacked; a bra and panties, a cotton petticoat, and an old flannel robe. We'd found the robe just this side of the blood in the hallway, the other garments scattered beyond it.

Carson was telling his deputy, "Stay with it. Lon and me're goin' to see if the two women who found the bodies can tell us anythin' more."

The sheriff and I went out the front door. I shaded my eyes from the sudden glare of sunlight as we cut across the sweep of lawn toward the house next door on the west. A crowd was gathering, attracted by the ambulance and the lineup of official cars parked on the street.

The Monroe chief of police and two of his men were on hand, to take care of any traffic problems that might develop, and to try to keep curious citizens away from the house. Now the chief waddled over to intercept us as we crossed the lawn.

"What's the word, boys?" he boomed heartily. Since the investigation involved capital crimes, it was the county's baby, not the city's, so the chief could afford to be hearty.

"Bad," said Carson. "Appreciate it if you'd percolate among the people here. See if anyone turns up who might know something about what happened last night."

The chief nodded. "Well, course I got my own work to worry about. Awful busy, and as few men as I have."

Carson and I moved on, leaving the chief frowning after us.

The owner of the house next door to the Parmeter-Ames place was lurking just inside his front door. His name was Henderson, a big man with heavy jowls and narrow eyes. He barked, "You caught him yet?"