"Tom Reamy - That Detweiler Boy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reamy Tom)

"When?"

"Just before you came down."

"Damn!"

She bit her lip. "I don't think the Detweiler boy killed him."

"Why?"

"I just don't think he could. He's such a gentle boy."

"Oh, Birdie," I groaned, "you know there's no such thing as a killer type.
Almost anyone will kill with a good enough reason."

"I know," she sighed, "but I still can't believe it." She tapped her scarlet
fingernails on the dulled Formica desktop. "How long had Harry been dead?"

He had phoned me about ten after five. I had found the body at seven. "A
while," I said. "The blood was mostly dry."
"Before six-thirty?"

"Probably."

She sighed again, but this time with relief. "The Detweiler boy was down here
with me until six-thirty. He'd been here since about four-fifteen. We were
playing gin. He was having one of his spells and wanted company."

"What kind of spell? Tell me about him, Birdie."

"But he couldn't have killed Harry," she protested.

"Okay," I said, but I wasn't entirely convinced. Why would anyone deliberately
and brutally murder inoffensive, invisible Harry Spinner right after he told
me he had discovered something "peculiar" about the Detweiler boy? Except the
Detweiler boy?

"Tell me anything. If he and Harry were friendly, he might know something. Why
do you keep calling him a boy; how old is he?"

She nodded and leaned her bulk on the registration desk. "Early twenties,
twenty-two, twenty-three, maybe. Not very tall, about five-five or -six. Slim,
dark curly hair, a real good-looking boy. Looks like a movie star except for
his back."

"His back?"

"He has a hump. He's a hunchback."

That stopped me for a minute, but I'm not sure why. I must've had a mental