The Burglar In The Closet by Lawrence Block Read Free Book Online Page A

like the best time for me to make my move.
    I didn't intend to wait until Saturday. The very next night, Thursday, I had my conversation with Miss Henrietta Tyler and cracked Crystal 's crib.
    And languished in her closet. And probed for a pulse in her lifeless wrist.

Chapter Four
    Around ten the next morning I was spreading rhubarb preserves on a piece of whole-wheat toast. I'd bought the preserves, imported from Scotland at great expense, because I figured anything in an octagonal jar with a classy label had to be good. Now I felt an obligation to use them up even though my figuring seemed to be wrong. I had the piece of toast nicely covered and was about to cut it into triangles when the phone rang.
    When I answered it Jillian Parr said, "Mr. Rhodenbarr? This is Jillian. From Dr. Craig's office?"
    "Oh, hi!" I said. "Beautiful morning, isn't it? How are things in dental hygiene?"
    There was a funereal pause. Then, "You haven't heard the news?"
    "News?"
    "I don't even know if it was in the papers. I haven't even seen the papers. I overslept, I just grabbed coffee and Danish on my way to the office. Craig had a nine-thirty appointment booked and he's always at the office on time and he didn't show up. I called his apartment and there was no answer, and I figured he must be on his way in, and then I had the radio on and there was a newscast."
    "Jesus," I said. "What happened, Jillian?"
    There was a pause and then the words came in a rush. "He was arrested, Bernie. I know it sounds crazy but it's true. Last night someone killed Crystal. Stabbed her to death or something, and in the middle of the night the police came and arrested Craig for her murder. You didn't know about this?"
    "I can't even believe it," I said. I wedged the phone between ear and shoulder so that I could quarter the toast. I didn't want it to get cold. If I have to eat rhubarb preserves I can damn well eat them on warm toast. "It wasn't in the Times, " I added. I could have added that it wasn't in the News either, but that it was all over the radio and television newscasts. But for some curious reason I didn't mention this.
    "I don't know what to do, Bernie. I just don't know what I should do."
    I took a bite of toast, chewed it thoughtfully. "I suppose the first step is to close the office and cancel his appointments for the day."
    "Oh, I already did that. You know Marian, don't you? The receptionist? She's making telephone calls now. When she's done I'll send her home, and after that-"
    "After that you can go home yourself."
    "I suppose so. But there has to be something I can do. "
    I ate more toast, sipped some coffee. I seemed to be developing a definite taste for the rhubarb jam. I wasn't positive I'd go running out for another jar when this one was finally finished, but I was beginning to like it. Coffee, though, was not quite the right accompaniment. A pot of strong English breakfast tea, that would be more like it. I'd have to remember next time.
    "I can't believe Craig would kill her," she was saying. "She was a bitch and he hated her but I can't believe he would kill anyone. Even a rotten tramp like Crystal."
    I tried to remember that Latin phrase for speaking well of the dead, then gave it up. De mortuis ta-tum ta-tum bonum, something along those lines.
    "If only I could talk to him, Bernie."
    "You haven't heard from him?"
    "Nothing."
    "What time did they pick him up?"
    "They didn't say on the radio. Only that he'd been arrested for questioning. If it was just a matter of questioning they wouldn't have had to arrest him, would they?"
    "Probably not." I paused, chewed rhubarb-laden toast, considered. "When was Crystal killed? Did they happen to say?"
    "I think they said the body was discovered shortly after midnight."
    "Well, it's hard to say when they would have gotten around to picking Craig up. They might have questioned him without charging him for a while. He could have insisted they charge him, but he might not have thought of that. And he