Sam McCain - 05 - Everybody's Somebody's Fool by Ed Gorman Read Free Book Online

is going to be uncomfortable.”
    “Jack,” Jean said. “What are you talking about? Sam was nice enough to stop out here to see how we were doing.”
    Amazing how quickly the air in a room can shift from placid to tense.
    “Sam came out here to question us, dear. A dead girl was found in our gazebo. Sam has a client whose name he wants to clear. And in order to do that he has to find somebody else to blame for the murder. The logical place to start is the place where the body is found. In fact, I can tell you what his first two questions will be. Did our twins know Sara Griffin at all? And did either you or I know her except in passing. That’s about right, isn’t it, Sam?”
    He’d taken over the room. He’d asked my questions for me. He was in complete control. He was as good on his screened-in porch as he was in court. He sat there in his blue turtleneck with his carefully brushed graying hair, watching to see how I’d react to the clever way he’d undermined my visit.
    “Is that true, Sam? You might think we’re involved in some way?” Jean sounded hurt. The beginnings of anger started deep in her lovely blue eyes. We were friends. Friends didn’t come out on a lazy football afternoon and play at an inquisition.
    Jack smiled with a good deal of
    calculated malice. “Yes, Sam, why
    don’t you explain exactly why you’re here—if what I said isn’t true.”
    “It’s just good investigative technique,” I said to Jean, “to talk to everybody involved.”
    “We’re not involved, Sam. And I resent you implying that we are. I thought you were our friend.”
    “God, Jean,” I said. “Please don’t
    think—”
    “Sam McCain, Boy Detective,”
    Jack said again. The smile was smug this time.
    He’d managed to deny me any possibility of learning anything. And he’d probably caused permanent damage between me and Jean. He’d done a good day’s work and he’d done it in less than five minutes.
    She stood up, magazine-ad perfect in her tan sweater and trim brown slacks. “We have a dinner party to go to tonight, Sam. You can finish your conversation with Jack.”
    I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. A little more groveling wouldn’t get me anything.
    “You’ve got balls, Sam, I’ll give you that,” Jack said after his wife left.
    “That’s what Cliffie told me.”
    “Before you start feeling sorry for yourself and thinking that I low-balled you just now, put yourself in Jean’s place. She goes out and finds a body in our gazebo. She’ll remember that the rest of her life. Jean is a fairly sheltered person.
    There was nothing in her life to prepare her for something like this. The only dead person she’s ever seen was her father. And that was after the mortician got him all gussied up for public display. So here you come, less than twenty-four hours after this terrible event, and you want to ask us questions about the dead girl.”
    “I wasn’t implying a damned thing and you know it.”
    “No, I don’t know it, Sam. You took your criminology courses at the university, you’re up on modern police techniques, and you’ve had some luck as a private
    investigator. No, check that. That’s condescending. Luck wasn’t involved, or not much of it, anyway. So when you come out here and want to question us, how are we supposed to feel?”
    “You’d do the same thing, Jack, and you know it.”
    That was the first thing I’d said that seemed
    to impress him. He looked at me a long moment and said, “I suppose I would.” Then, “You went all the way through school with her, Sam.
    You were always one of her favorites. She was rich and beautiful and she didn’t care a tinker’s damn that you came from the Knolls. She’s always loved you—and I mean that, loved you—and here you come all of a sudden, altering your entire relationship by asking her and her husband some pretty pointed questions.”
    “How do you know they were pointed? I didn’t even get to ask