Cold Day in Hell by Richard Hawke Read Free Book Online

unfathomably stupid judgment in opening the door to the first stranger who came along.”
    “Exactly. We’re working on both scenarios.”
    “Robin Burrell was not an unfathomably stupid person,” I said.
    “I’m sure she wasn’t.”
    He tossed one of the photographs on the desk. I picked it up. It was a close-up of a tray holding a piece of cheese still in its cellophane along with a knife and an apple. Gallo went on, “We’ve traced Ms. Burrell from a yoga class she took over on Broadway. On the way home, she buys cheese and fruit. She also buys throat lozenges and Kleenex and other stuff for a cold. Her yoga instructor confirmed that she was sneezing and sniffling in class.”
    “It’s cold season,” I said.
    “If you’re popping lozenges and drinking Throat Coat tea, I don’t see that you’re eating cheese. Especially set out all nice on a tray like that. She was expecting someone.”
    “In that case, why does stupid scenario number two have legs? You’re saying it wasn’t a stranger.”
    “Because I don’t want to rule out something that might still hold up. You don’t toss out a scenario just because it might be a little stupid. Think about it. What’s one way to get inside someone’s apartment without forcing your way in?”
    I got it. “Be there when they’re opening the door.”
    “Right. Leave a message that will scare the hell out of them. A woman in her apartment alone? You get a message like that on your phone, especially on an unlisted number? That’s got to spook her. She’s not going to feel too good just sitting there. So you leave the message and be there waiting when she comes running out the door.”
    “Right into your arms.”
    Gallo nodded. “Or merge the two stories, if you want. It’s someone she knew who made the call, disguising his voice, and he stood there waiting. Either way, he flushed her out. He got her to open the door.”
    “If it’ll make you feel any better, I can sort out the cheese mystery for you.”
    “Sure, Fritz. Sort away.”
    “The person she was expecting was me.”
    Gallo blinked. “You. What are you telling me? You had a date with Robin Burrell the night she was killed?”
    “Don’t go smearing me with that brush, Joe. I didn’t have a date. She wanted to talk some more about all the nutsy stuff that had been going on lately. I was testifying on that pirating case, and we’d arranged that I’d swing by when I got out.”
    Gallo rested his chin on his fingertips and studied me. “Margo know about this date?”
    “I just told you, it wasn’t a date.”
    “This little cheese party, then?”
    “Is that question relevant to your investigation?”
    “So the answer is, she didn’t. What’s going on here, Fritz?”
    “Nothing’s going on. I make a living out of other people’s problems. Robin Burrell had some problems.”
    “Was she your client?”
    “Now you’re sounding like Margo.”
    “Oh. So you’ve had this conversation with Ms. Burke?”
    “A similar one.”
    “And she’s okay with your breaking cheese with the pretty lady across the street?”
    “Joe, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re prying.”
    “You don’t know any better.”
    “Okay. Margo’s nose is out of joint. I’m doing what I can to put it back in place.”
    “We’ve established that Robin Burrell was a pretty woman.”
    “From where I sit, Margo’s no side of burnt toast. Robin Burrell was upset. If I was able to calm her down some, that’s not a crime. Check your codes. Have you got one for ‘unlawful assisting of damsel in distress’?”
    “Okay. None of my business. But I wish you’d told me about this last night.”
    “Cops scare me,” I said.
    Gallo picked up one of the crime-scene photos and shook his head sadly at it. He dropped the photograph back on his desk, leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers carefully against the back of his head.
    “The guy did a real chop job on your cheese friend. We’re looking at