"Kiser, Marcia - Doctor Of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kiser Marcia)

"Bird-like? Frail? Whom are you speaking of, Detective?"

"Mrs. Mason. Your ex-receptionist. Mid to late 50s. Brown, non-descript hair. Small. Frail. Positively tiny. She couldn't have the strength to push a fly away, let alone a man as large as Mr. Harvey was. I read the report. Even with cancer eating away at him, he was a big, beefy guy."

Dr. Green looked puzzled. "My ex-receptionist, Mrs. Mason, is about 50. A large, raw-boned woman, approximately 5'10" and well over 200 pounds, who could have broken me into pieces if she had decided she wanted to, which is why I became alarmed at her outburst."

It was Salida's turn to look puzzled. She stared at the petite doctor, whom she guessed weighed around 120, with plenty of muscle tone based on her graceful, controlled movements.

Salida leaned over and tucked her pad and pen in her purse. Standing, she pulled the strap over her shoulder. "Don't leave town, Doctor. In fact, I want you to stay right here until you hear from me."

"Oh, no. No, you don't. Some woman is impersonating my receptionist and accusing me of murder. I'm coming with you." Dr. Green jerked a drawer opened and pulled out a leather shoulder bag, the exact shade of her dress. Salida sighed with envy.

"All right, but I'm asking the questions."

***
Both women were quiet on the drive across town. As they reached Mrs. Mason's street, Salida risked a quick glance at Dr. Green.

"You're sure she's not like a little bird? Maybe a brown wren?"

"Trust me, Detective. There is nothing bird-like about Mrs. Mason. More like a bull with a glandular infection."

"I don't understand what's going on here."

"Neither do I, Detective, but I'll be damned if I'll let someone accuse me of murder."

"You're sure this is the house?" Salida asked as she pulled to the curb in front of the house at which Dr. Green pointed.

"I'm sure. I drove her home one day. I have an excellent memory for directions."

Salida studied the small house. White clapboard that had seen better days. Paint chipped and peeled along the front and side of the house that were visible from the street. Scraggly bushes of some type had entwined themselves in the screens. More than one screen had popped off the window and become a part of the bushes. A detached garage sat behind the house with a narrow driveway of two narrower tracks of concrete leading to it. A cracked and buckled sidewalk led up to the sagging front porch. Two rusted, weather-beaten metal chairs sat on the front porch.

"Doesn't look like much, does it?" Salida asked.

"It was dark when I drove her home, but I don't understand why Mrs. Mason doesn't take better care of her home. I actually pay her two salaries-one as a secretary and one as a nurse. It's not as though she couldn't afford a can or two of paint."

"Hmm. Let's go in. Remember, I ask the questions."

"Of course, Detective," Dr. Green smiled.

Salida lead the way up the obstacle course sidewalk. She tested each step as she climbed the porch to the front door. She knocked on the front door and heard the echo inside the house.

"That's weird. You don't usually hear echoes," Salida commented.

Minutes passed. Salida knocked again, longer and louder. Dr. Green stepped to one of the windows. Cupping her hands around her eyes, Dr. Green peered into the darken interior. "I can't see any furniture."

"Curiouser and curiouser," Salida commented. She hesitated on the top step and started down, when a voice drifted to her.

"Detective! How nice of you to come!"

Salida whipped her head around to the side of the house. Mrs. Mason's head poked through the bushes.