Death Was in the Picture by Linda L. Richards Read Free Book Online Page B

character. There weren’t a lot of places you find such deep troughs of that combination outside Chief Roy E. Steckel’s Los Angeles police force.
    The cops didn’t even hesitate to give me the time of day. I might not have been sitting there at all. They just barged right through and into Dex’s office, without any by-your-leave. I followed hard on their heels, intending to apologize to Dex for letting them through, but it took me some time to sneak a word in even at the edge.
    “O’Reilly,” Dex said warmly. “Houlahan. Great to see you ladies. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
    “I’ve got a feeling it wouldn’t take you much to guess.” The speaker was short and dangerously red in the face, like an encounter with too many stairs would put him in the hospital. Maybe keep him there forever. I wasn’t sure if this was O’Reilly or Houlahan, I’d never taken the time to tell them apart, but on consideration, I figured it didn’t much matter.
    “Well, maybe yes and maybe no,” Dex said affably. “Why’nt you boys come on in. Take a load off.” He shifted his attention to me, standing in the doorway, not sure what to do or say. “It’s OK, Kitty. I know they didn’t ask your permission. You go on back and get that typing done.”
    I shot Dex a look he didn’t see. I didn’t have any typing to do and I was pretty sure Dex knew it. And I was unconvinced of Dex’s need to impress the flatfoots with his busyness. Still, Dex had asked for typing so typing he would get. His was the name at the bottom of my pay checks, after all. His was the name edged in gold letters on the front door.
    I scooped up the newspaper on my way out and told Dex toholler if he wanted anything more from me. Then I left his office door open a crack. That way, I reasoned silently, I’d be able to hear if he did indeed holler. I didn’t dwell on the fact that it also made it easier to hear what was going on in there.
    The flatfoots didn’t waste any time. I was still rolling paper into the typewriter when they started up. “We heard you was at a party last night, Theroux.”
    “Yeah, sure.” Dex is good at seeming relaxed and comfortable around the law. It’s one of his gifts. “What can I say? I like a social gathering. Helps me hone my people skills. Maybe you and the missus here should attend one once.” I sucked in my breath soundlessly. O’Reilly and Houlahan. We knew they weren’t the sharpest chips off the edge of a dull block. Still, poking at them with a stick didn’t seem such a good idea.
    I was relieved when one of the cops picked up the conversation apparently unperturbed. Maybe he’d missed the insult. Or maybe he was used to it.
    “Party you was at? Someone got fogged.”
    “Yeah,” said the other, “good and fogged.”
    “I heard,” Dex said, still sounding comfortable. “It’s in all the papers.”
    I threw some typing into the mix here. Rapid-fire: rat-tat-tat. I could hear them getting warmed up. I figured I may as well fulfill Dex’s request before they got to the good stuff; and I did have a feeling that good stuff was coming.
    “People say they saw you there.”
    To my surprise, Dex laughed outright at this. I took the opportunity to fire another round of rapid typing into the breach. “What’s with the fishing expedition, boys?” he asked good-naturedly. “Way I understand it, you’ve already landed the big one. What the hell do you need me for?”
    I was glad Dex had asked it. I’d been thinking the same thing: Wyndham had been arrested. Why question Dex?
    “You’re lucky we got someone in custody, Theroux.” It wasthe same voice and it held an edge. I didn’t much like it. “If we didn’t, we’d sure as hell be looking at you more closely.”
    “Well, you’re here, ain’t you? Any closer and we’d be doin’ the tango.”
    “Boys, boys, c’mon.” I think this was O’Reilly. There was a placating note in his voice. “No need for any of that. Theroux’s right,