Hotline to Murder by Alan Cook Read Free Book Online Page A

was out of his life permanently.
    “I went to a movie.”
    “What movie?”
    “Uh… Lost in Translation , with Bill
Murray. It’s about this American actor who goes to Japan to make a
Suntory commercial…”
    “Whom did you go with?”
    For some reason he didn’t want to admit that
he had gone by himself. “I…uh, couldn’t find anybody to go
with.”
    “So you went alone. Can anybody vouch for
you?’
    “No.” He would be just another faceless
patron to the ticket taker. And he hadn’t seen anybody he knew.
    “So you don’t have an alibi.” Shahla looked
at Tony with an unfathomable look in her eyes.
    “Ticket stub. I save ticket stubs. I throw
them into a bowl. It shows the date and time of the show. It didn’t
get over until about 10:30.”
    “A ticket stub, eh?” Shahla said, imitating
a prosecuting attorney. “That was clever of you. You purchased a
ticket, but didn’t actually see the movie. Or you left in the
middle…”
    “You don’t really believe I killed Joy,”
Tony said getting hot despite his attempt to stay cool. He felt
sweat forming in his armpits.
    “What I think is that Detective Croyden
should be asking these questions,” Shahla said. “But since he
isn’t, maybe you and I should.”
    “Does that mean I’m exonerated?”
    “For the time being. But only because you
don’t appear to have a motive. However, in this kind of case, when
the murderer is finally caught, the neighbors always say, ‘But he
was such a nice boy. He couldn’t have done it.’ So we have to look
for hidden motives.”
    Tony was able to chuckle. “I think you’ve
got a career all mapped out in the district attorney’s office.”
    “Actually, I’m going to be a writer. But I
may write true crime. And I may have my…” Shahla became choked up
and couldn’t continue for a moment, “…first story.”
    “You have to be careful about doing your own
investigating. What if you asked the real killer for an alibi? What
do you think he’d do to you?”
    Tears welled up in Shahla’s eyes and started
running down her cheeks. Tony had an urge to comfort her, to touch
her, to hold her. He knew that was the wrong thing to do. Empathy,
not sympathy. He said, “This must be very diff….” He’d already said
that. He gave her a tissue from a box on one of the tables.
    Shahla wiped her eyes and said, “When I
heard about Joy, I didn’t believe it. It still doesn’t seem real.
She can’t be gone.”
    The phone rang. Tony reached for it, but
Shahla said, “I’ll get it,” and answered before Tony could. She
immediately placed the call on the speaker. She pressed the mute
button and said, “It’s him.”
    The caller was saying, “…advice on how to
prevent what happened to Joy from happening to you.”
    “What’s your advice?” Shahla asked.
    “You girls need to wear more clothes. When
you walk around strutting your stuff, showing off your body,
wearing tight short skirts up to your butt, with no underwear,
you’re asking for it.”
    It was an inappropriate call. The Hotline
rules said to hang up at this point. But it was obvious that Shahla
had no intention of hanging up.
    She had the Chameleon’s page from the Green
Book open in front of her. She said, “Is this Fred?” using one of
several names the Chameleon had previously given Hotline
listeners.
    There was silence at the other end of the
line. Shahla said, “I need to call you something. Is it okay if I
call you Fred?”
    More silence. Then the caller said, “All
right. Tell me, Sally, are you wearing underwear?”
    “Are you on a cell phone, Fred?” There was a
pause, and Shahla said, “Fred, talk to me.”
    “How did you know?”
    “I’m clairvoyant. Are you at work?”
    Tony was reading the Green Book over
Shahla’s shoulder. Did he really work as a security guard?
    “What makes you think that?”
    “Just a guess. Where do you work?”
    “That’s none of your business.”
    “You sound like an interesting person. I