"Elrod, P N - Vampire Files 09 - Lady Crymsyn E-Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

"It's bad business all right," I allowed. "And nothing to do with me."
"We'll see." He sounded very pleased with himself.
"Come on, you know I only moved here last August. This case could be at least
five years old."
"How do you figure that?" He was good at his job, only asking questions for
which he already knew the answers.
"Because that's when this joint was last open. There are records on file with
all the dates, and you know where to find them."
"True, but anyone could have broken in here between then and now and put her
here."
"That's for you to figure out. I'm just a victim of circumstance."
"You seem to collect them, Mr. Fleming. Let's go over here for a little chat,
why don't we?" He motioned me toward a corner away from the hubbub, where we
could have some privacy. "Who were you calling?"
"I called someone?"
"The man I sent to get you heard you talking."
The cop hadn't even been near the office by the time I'd hung up. Blair was
slipping by making only a guess, but it had been a good one. "He must have ears
like an Airedale or a great imagination."
"Who did you phone?"
"No one."
"Gordy Weems, perhaps?"
I tried not to react, but he was looking for the least little betraying twitch.
Sometimes it's a sad thing to be born with a streak of telltale honesty.
"Perhaps to warn him of your little trouble here? No need to be too surprised.
I've made a point of finding out who your friends are."
"You must have a lot of time on your hands, then."
"I just like to keep track of troublemakers."
He would.
"For instance, just how is it an unemployed reporter can afford to set up a
palace like this?"
"I'm not unemployed; I work for the Escott Agency. As for this place, I got
lucky at the track this year and decided to invest my winnings."
"I think you've been investing for the mob. Word is you're one of Gordy's
insiders at the Nightcrawler Club."
"My girlfriend sings there sometimes. I just go over to drive her home after
work. If I took her to the train station, would you accuse me of being a Pullman
porter? Are you even supposed to be here? I thought this far north would be out
of your district."
"Listen wiseass, after that business with MalcolmЧ"
"Ancient history, Lieutenant."
"It's still an open case, Fleming."
Before he could get himself fully launched down memory lane, I fixed him with a
long, concentrated stare. "And past time you closed it," I whispered after a
moment. From the profoundly blank expression that dropped over his face I knew
he'd heard me. "The guy's no longer your concern. Your best guess is that he's
the one who did the Wrigley Building murder, and the guilt drove him crazy.
Ain't that so?"
"Yes, that's what happened." Blair's voice was thin and distant.
I kept focused on his empty eyes. "As for the mess you've got here, I don't have