McNally's Bluff by Lawrence Sanders, Vincent Lardo Read Free Book Online

maze.”
    “She’s dead,” Gallo announced into the phone’s tiny speaker. “They found her in the maze.”
    Well, everyone had seen them enter the maze so I hadn’t jumped the gun on Oscar. The sounds coming to us from the front of the house, mostly irate car horns, told me Ocean Boulevard was now backed up for miles in both directions: the rubbernecks most likely coming to a dead halt before the congregating squad cars with their foreboding red, blue and yellow warning lights. Thanks to the public relations spin Hayes had put on his home and wondrous maze, all out there knew whose villa was under siege this evening. Why, not who, was the question.
    If a camera crew from the local network was also out there, Joe Gallo could very well be hooked up to them, giving a blow-by-blow from the inside as they broadcast the scene from without. The rookie news gatherer was in the right place at the right time for a leap up the ladder of media muckraking. Fitz was gazing upon her date with pride and awe as Mack Macurdy tried to wrestle the phone from Joe with little success. Marge, looking amused, gave me a wink before running her hand, like a blade, across her neck. I responded with a slight but unmistakable nod, thinking that upon such mundane gestures trusting relationships are founded.
    It was an hour before the medics exited the maze with their burden. The body on the stretcher with a blanket drawn over its face was the proverbial picture worth a thousand words.
    When Eberhart returned, he mounted the convenient drum and told everyone, including the waitstaff, that they were to give their name and address to the officers now posted in the entrance hall with pads and pens at the ready, and then they were free to go. They were cautioned not to leave town without confiding their destination to the Palm Beach police and advised to be prepared to give statements regarding their movements this evening to the police when called upon.
    Coincidentally, at the end of the short spiel the maze lights were extinguished, turning the glass doors into a black wall, bringing down the curtain on the first act of what was now clearly an official investigation into a suspicious death. Eberhart’s announcement, short and to the point, did not invite questions.
    I silently agreed with him that it was not necessary to take statements here and now as it was approaching midnight and would take till morning to complete the task. I also felt, not without a tad of pride, that the lieutenant knew he had an objective observer on the scene he could pump for facts that would facilitate interviews if they were deemed necessary.
    The crowd lingered, as I thought they would, forming groups, whispering, shaking their heads and, on more than one pair of lips one could read the words, “In the maze? But how?”
    I saw Carolyn and Billy make for the exit but they were waylaid by Laddy Taylor. A few words were exchanged between Carolyn and her stepson before she rudely sidestepped him, taking Billy with her. Laddy started after her, thought better of it and stopped abruptly, glaring with pure hatred at the departing couple. I hoped father and I had seen the last of Laddy Taylor but that, alas, was not to be the case.
    Seeing that the exodus was moving along in orderly fashion, Eberhart and I went to the kitchen which was approached via a set of swinging doors at the rear of the dining room and down a short flight of spiral stairs that continued to the lower level and servants’ quarters. There were no back stairs. The reason for the trip was to question the caterers assigned to the kitchen since their arrival and not to feed our faces. Our good intentions notwithstanding, we decided it was the best place to talk privately and so sat at the aforementioned table where I fed Oscar the facts as well as a cold supper.
    The kitchen crew, two men and one woman, swore that only the actors had entered the kitchen, leaving the house from the kitchen door that led to the