Hotline to Murder by Alan Cook Read Free Book Online

different story for every call, but it usually involved sex at some point. Sometimes he made veiled threats. The Green Book instructed listeners to hang up on him when he was recognized since he abused the Hotline.
    “Let’s do this,” Tony said. “Mark the call report to Detective Croyden’s attention, like Gail wants us to do. The Chameleon is a logical suspect, just because he calls so often. Although that sounded like a crank call to me. He probably just didn’t want to be overshadowed by Joy.”
    “He’s a really creepy guy. I think Croyden should talk to him. But how can he? We don’t have his telephone number, and we don’t know where he lives or anything.”
    Tony was looking at the Chameleon’s profile in the Green Book. “Maybe Croyden can find him. He told somebody he lives in El Segundo. He’s in his late twenties. He has a job as a security guard.”
    “That really sets him apart, doesn’t it? I’m sure the police will be able to walk right to his door.”
    Tony could understand Shahla’s frustration. He wanted to help her. He said, “Okay, let’s do this. We’ll start a file of our own on likely suspects. We’ll make copies of the call reports of suspicious callers. We might spot something that the police don’t.”
    “We’re not supposed to take information on callers out of the office. And we’re not supposed to use the copy machine…”
    “This is a state of emergency.” Tony wanted to assuage Shahla’s fears about violating the Hotline rules. “Besides, there’s nobody here to see us. I’ll do the copying and keep the copies so you won’t get into trouble.”
    Shahla reluctantly relented. It was obvious that her parents had instilled a moral code in her. He was glad to know that. He had met enough young people who had no apparent values. He, himself, was perhaps one of them. But he was changing, he kept telling himself. However, as he had said, this was a state of emergency.
    He took the call reports out of the box where the listeners had placed them. They dated back two days to Saturday, the day the Hotline had reopened. Fortunately, Gail didn’t collect them every day. But that also meant Croyden hadn’t looked at them yet. He must have plenty to keep him busy, however. Tony and Shahla pulled out the reports marked to Detective Croyden’s attention and also several identified as calls from the Chameleon. He often called more than once a day, in defiance of the rules.
    In between taking routine calls, Tony made copies of these reports on the Xerox copier. Then he sorted the original call reports back into chronological order and replaced them in the box, while Shahla was on a call. He did group three calls from the Chameleon about Joy together so that they would get the special attention of Gail, and hopefully Croyden.
    After Shahla had hung up and completed her call report, she said, “I have the feeling that we’re not covering all the possibilities.”
    “We don’t have to,” Tony said. “That’s the job of the police.”
    “But the police aren’t, either. Have they asked you for an alibi for the night Joy was killed?”
    “Huh?” Tony looked at Shahla, wondering if she was kidding.
    “Well, what were you doing that night?”
    “Uh…” Tony was flabbergasted. “Do you think I’m the murderer?”
    “What I think doesn’t matter. You’ve seen the cop shows on TV. They question everybody, including their friends.”
    “Well, it’s a relief that you count me as a friend,” Tony said, trying to lighten the atmosphere, which had suddenly become very heavy. “Let’s see, what was I doing?” He hadn’t thought about it before. He hadn’t thought of himself as a suspect before. He drew a blank. He tried to work backward from the time he had heard about Joy’s murder. He had been busy all that day. And the night before? He had done some preparation for his talk to the women’s club. He had been lonely and restless. Josh was out somewhere. Carol was