Fat Ollie's Book by Ed McBain Read Free Book Online

But he sure as hell wished nobody but the usual suspects had got killed yesterday morning.
    â€œSo what’d she have to say?” he asked Carella.
    â€œHer husband wasn’t home Sunday night.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI asked her when he left the house yesterday morning, she told me she didn’t know, he wasn’t home.”
    â€œSo where was he?”
    â€œUpstate. Meeting with the Governor’s people.”
    â€œThat’s very nice, the Governor’s people,” Byrnes said.
    â€œHis wife told me they were trying to convince him to run for mayor.”
    â€œOh, Jesus, don’t tell me this is going to get political,” Byrnes said.
    â€œIt could. He’s a politician, Pete. Was.”
    â€œToo much bad blood between Democrats and Republicans these days,” Byrnes said, shaking his head.
    â€œYou think a Democrat killed him?”
    He was smiling. The idea of a Democrat killing a Republican was somewhat amusing. For that matter, so was the idea of a Republican killing a Democrat.
    â€œI don’t know who killed him,” Byrnes said. He was not smiling.
    â€œYou know something else? I don’t even care who killed him. This case belongs to His Lord Fatness, I don’t know how the hell we got involved in it.”
    â€œPayback time, Pete.”
    â€œYou should try not to get yourself killed so often. And you should try to avoid obese saviors.”
    â€œI’ll try.”
    â€œWhere’d Henderson stay upstate? Did she say?”
    â€œI’ll ask her.”
    â€œCall whichever hotel it was, find out what time he checked out, did he drive, did he take the train, did he fly, whatever. Give Ollie an ETA at the hall, and then tell him goodbye.”
    â€œYes, sir, is that an order, sir?”
    â€œI don’t want this case,” Byrnes said.
    Â 
    AT SEVEN O’CLOCK that Tuesday night, while Carella was at the dinner table with his wife and two children, Ollie Weeks called to say he was sorry he’d missed him at the office earlier today, but was it convenient for him to talk now?
    â€œI’m in the middle of dinner,” Carella said.
    â€œThat’s okay,” Ollie said, “so am I.”
    Carella had the feeling that somehow Ollie was always in the middle of dinner. Or lunch. Or breakfast. Or something.
    â€œCan I call you back later?” he asked.
    â€œWell, sure,” Ollie said, sounding offended, and hung up.
    Carella called him back at a little past eight, after the twins were in bed. Ollie picked up the phone, said, “Weeks,” and then belched.
    â€œOllie, it’s Steve.”
    â€œYes, Steve.”
    Still sounding offended.
    â€œI wanted to report on what I learned from Mrs. Henderson…”
    â€œYes, Steve.”
    His tone was saying I only saved your life, you know.
    â€œI had a long telephone conversation with her this afternoon. She…”
    â€œI thought you were going to see her personally,” Ollie said.
    â€œI did. This was after I saw her.”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œShe said her husband flew up to the state capital on Saturday…”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œâ€¦stayed the weekend at the Raleigh Hotel there…”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œProbably flew back early Monday morning…”
    â€œWhat do you mean probably? ”
    â€œHe didn’t come home. She thinks he must have gone directly from the airport to King Memorial.”
    â€œWhat do you mean she thinks? ”
    â€œOllie,” Carella said, “ non mi rompere, okay?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI’m trying to tell you what I’ve got here. The lady doesn’t know for sure where he was when. The last time she spoke to him was from the Raleigh. The next thing she knows he’s shot dead at King Memorial. So she’s assuming he flew back and went directly…”
    â€œOkay, I get it, I get it,” Ollie said. “Did