Dead Man Waltzing by Ella Barrick Read Free Book Online

the phone, and I could see Vitaly crane his neck to listen. “I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you again so soon.” He chuckled, a rich Santa-ish sound. I always had trouble reconciling his jovial exterior with his sharp and calculating mind.
    I explained about Maurice’s situation. “I don’t know why they’ve arrested him,” I said. “I don’t think he knew for sure.”
    When he spoke again, Drake’s voice was all business. “If he’s been smart enough to keep his mouth shut, it won’t matter; we’ll get him out of it, although it may be tomorrow, because it’s too late to get him arraigned today. Allison is on her way. She’s a chip off the old block.”
    I had no idea what “old block” he was talking about.
    “For a while there, during her sophomore year at Yale, it looked like she was going to be a vet, but then she decided to follow in dear old Dad’s footsteps and become a legal eagle.”
    “You have a daughter?” Somehow I hadn’t pictured Drake as being married, much less having children.
    “Six.”
    “Six daughters? Good heavens!”
    “Three are lawyers like their pop, two are doctors like their mom, and one’s a clockmaker.”
    I resisted the urge to pry further into the Drake family’s situation. “So Allison can get Maurice out? Can she find out why they arrested him?”
    “Absolutely. In fact, I can find that out with a phone call to the DA. Call me back in ten.” He hung up.
    Vitaly had been dancing from foot to foot in front of me, impatient to find out more. “What is happening?” he asked.
    “The police have arrested Maurice for Corinne Blakely’s murder, and I’ve arranged for a lawyer to represent him. Can you help me with the Latin class tonight?”
    “ Da . Of course.” Vitaly nodded impatiently. “What can I doing to help Maurice?”
    I smiled, touched by his willingness to help a man he’d known only a couple of months. “That’s very kind, Vitaly, but I can’t think of anything right now, besides covering his classes and maybe working with his private students.”
    “Vitaly is doing,” he said with the air of one making a heroic sacrifice. “I will even dancing with the hippies.”
    I didn’t correct his English. One of Vitaly’s conditions about working here had been that he wouldn’t have to partner heavy women, even though one of them was one of our top two or three dancers. “Has it been ten minutes?” I looked at my watch. “Close enough.”
    Phineas Drake answered on the first ring. “They’ve got a pill bottle that apparently was the source of the poison that killed the Blakely woman,” he said without preamble. “It’s got Goldberg’s fingerprints on it.”
    I gasped. Drake chuckled. He didn’t seem worried about the damning evidence against Maurice. “Dozens of ways Goldberg’s fingerprints could’ve gotten on that bottle,” he assured me. “If that’s all the police have . . . pfft. We’ll know more after we get a look at the autopsy report.”
    I hung up, feeling slightly queasy, and relayed the news to Vitaly. “He asked me to feed his cats,” I added. I hadn’t even known Maurice had cats, but he’d asked me to take care of Gene and Cyd “for a night or two” when he called about his arrest.
    “Go, then,” Vitaly said, flicking me away with his hands. “Vitaly is holding the port until you returning.”
    “Fort.” I left.
    * * *
    Maurice’s house was a Craftsman-style bungalow with a compact front yard planted with dark green ivy rather than grass. Pink, mauve, and white impatiens bloomed in red ceramic pots on either side of the door, which was painted a dark purple. I wondered whether the color was Maurice’s choice, or if he bought the house like that. I found the key under the rightmost pot, as Maurice had said, and opened the door.
    “Mrow!”
    A silvery cat with darker gray markings came trotting toward me, tail up, and began to twine around my legs. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have