SIREN'S TEARS (ALTON RHODE MYSTERIES Book 3) by Lawrence de Maria Read Free Book Online Page A

the parish. She occasionally fills in for the Monsignor’s regular secretary. She only works a few hours a week. I only do my copying when she’s there.”
    He looked at me expectantly.
    “Well, Mr. Rhode, what do you think?”
    “We’re not talking a Marine combat platoon here, Father. Men in their 60’s drop dead of heart attacks, often without symptoms or warning, all the time. Three deaths in about two years doesn’t seem that unusual to me. I bet that you could find a cluster like that in every parish on Staten Island. Maybe the country. You knew these men and were close to them. Unless you are saying that their deaths are related to their knowing you so well, this just sounds like a tragic coincidence.” As soon as I said ‘coincidence,’ I felt uneasy. How many times had I told people that I didn’t really believe in coincidences. It was a standard detective line. “Is that what you are saying? They died because they knew you. Some sort of holdover from the Cold War?”
    Father Zapo waved his hand.
    “No. No. No. I only knew these men from my time at Our Lady of Solace. This isn’t a spy story. There is something else at work here. I don’t know what it is. Maybe everyone is right. It’s just the ruminations of an old man.” He touched his nose with his index finger. “But this has never failed me. I smell a rat. Considering how the men died, I suspect they were poisoned.”
    I looked over at the smashed fly on the window. You got off lucky today, pal, I thought.
    Father Zapo leaned forward.
    “If I’m wrong, I’m willing to pay the consequences. But if I’m right, and I walk away, someone else may die.”
    “It wouldn’t be a picnic for me either, Father. I may also pay some consequences if you’re wrong.”
    “I was told that you are a man who doesn’t mind stepping on toes.”
    I wanted to say that I preferred not doing that while chasing wild geese. But I tried another tack.
    “I will upset some people with my inquiries. To do this right, I’ll have to speak to your pastor, maybe even the bishop. Do you really want that?”
    “As I’ve said, I’ve burned those bridges. Don’t worry about it. I was almost sent to Siberia once. A retirement home is probably no worse.”
    I wasn’t making much of an impression on someone who had once been at the tender mercies of the KGB. But I gave it one more shot.
    “What am I supposed to do? Go to some man’s widow and suggest that her husband may have been poisoned? Without any proof that I can see? Do you realize that the only way to prove your theory may be to exhume the bodies?”
    “Perhaps it won’t come to that. You may identify the killer by other means. I hope so.”
    “Did you approach the widows?”
    For the first time, he looked uncomfortable.
    “No.”
    “Why?”
    “I have my reasons, which I cannot explain.”
    All private investigators deal with people who don’t level with them, spouting everything from half-truths to outright lies. We’d go broke if we only took clients who were completely forthright. Zapo smiled, and played his best card.
    “There is one other thing. You understand, of course, that I do not have the means to pay you. But Marat Rahm told me you would be happy to help.”
    Terrific. I was going to investigate the heart attacks of three men when I was pretty sure the killer was a Big Mac.
    “All right, Father. I will look into this. One final question. I presume these men knew each other, either from the parish or through business. In fact, I gather they all belonged to some of the same associations, like the Chamber of Commerce and the Rotary. But do you know of any other more meaningful connection they had? Were they related by marriage? Played in a regular poker game? Shared a mistress? Took vacations together? Anything?”
    I had rattled off the list quickly and noticed that he blinked at the word ‘mistress.’ I didn’t know if that meant anything. He might have been due for a blink. But what he