J is for Judgement by Sue Grafton Read Free Book Online Page B

clock on my bedside table. It was only 9:45. I picked up the phone and called Mac Voorhies at home.
    found a pair of scissors and. clipped all the articles, set- ting them aside to take with me for the office files. I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. It was only 9:45. I picked up the phone and called Mac Voorhies at home.
    5 "HI, IT'S KINSEY," I, said when Mac picked up on his end.
    "You don't sound like yourself. Where're you calling from?"
    "Here in town," I said. "I just came down with a cold and I'm feeling like death."
    "That's too bad. Welcome home. I wasn't sure when to expect you back."
    "I walked in the door forty-five minutes ago," I said.
    "I've been reading the papers and I see you had some excitement while I was gone."
    "Can you believe it? I don't know what the hell is going on. I haven't heard a word about this family for the last two, three years. Now all the sudden the name's cropping up everywhere."
    "Yeah, well, here it comes again. We hit pay dirt on Wendell. I spotted him right where Dick Mills said he'd be."
    "Are you sure it's him?"
    "Of course, I'm not sure, Mac. I never laid eyes on the man before, but judging from the photographs, this fellow comes damn close. For one thing, he's American and he's in the right age group. He's not using the name Jaffe. It's Dean DeWitt Huff, but the height's on the money, and the weight seemed close enough. He's somewhat heavier, but he probably would be in any event. He's traveling with a woman, and the two kept themselves very isolated."
    "Sounds pretty sketchy."
    "Of course it's sketchy. I could hardly walk up to him and introduce myself."
    "How sure are you on a scale of one to ten?"
    "Let's put it this way: adjusting for age and some surgical tampering, I'd say a nine. I tried to get some pictures, but he was very paranoid about attention. I had to maintain a very low profile," I said. "By the way, what was Brian Jaffe in jail, for has anybody said?"
    "As I understand it, some kind of burglary. Probably nothing sophisticated or he wouldn't have been caught," Mac said. What about Wendell. Where is he at this point?"
    "That's a very good question."
    "He got away," Mac said flatly.
    "More or less. He and the woman took off in the dead of night, but don't start screaming yet. You want to know what I found? This was in their room after they checked out. A Mexican newspaper featuring Brian Jaffe's capture. Wendell must have spotted it in the late edition because the two of them went off to dinner at the regular time. Next thing I know, they're hightailing it back, and they're both upset. By this morning, they were gone. I found the newspaper in the trash." Even as I played out my recital of the facts, I realized something 1 about the situation was bothering me. It was too, coincidental-Wendell Jaffe ensconced in that obscure, Mexican resort. . . Brian breaking out of jail and heading straight for the border. I could feel a spark of insight connect the two events. "Oh, wait a minute, Mac. I got a little flash here, catch this. You know what just occurred to me? From the moment I spotted Wendell, he was skimming through the papers, five or six altogether, and he was checking every page. What if he knew Brian would be making that escape? He could have been waiting for him. It's possible Wendell even helped set it up."
    Mac cleared his throat with a skeptical hum. "That's pretty far-fetched. Let's don't jump to conclusions until we know what's what."
    "Yeah, I know. You're right, but it adds up in a way. I'll table it for now, but I may check it out later."
    "Any idea where Jaffe went?"
    "I talked to the desk clerk in my rudimentary Spanish, but it didn't produce much except a half-concealed smirk. If you want my opinion, I think there's a good chance he's heading back in this direction."
    I could practically hear Mac squinting through the telephone lines. "I don't believe it. You really think he'd step a foot in this state? He wouldn't have the nerve. The man