The Dirty Duck by Martha Grimes Read Free Book Online Page A

sky. “We lived with James Farraday for four years before he married Amelia. He’s okay, I guess. . . . He’s in coal. Owns most of West Virginia and western Maryland. And hotels. Got a big summer hotelin Maryland. That’s where our mama worked. Waitressing and stuff. Jimmy was hardly a baby when we came there.”
    â€œI think Mr. Farraday’s really worried about your brother.”
    â€œYeah, well, maybe. If only He hadn’t gone and married her. Or I should say them. First time we seen her bouncing up the drive we wondered Miss Dolly Parton wasn’t honoring us with a visit, all that blond sheep’s hair and boobs out to here. She tries to make me not cuss and tries to make Him think she’s all la-di-da when you can just tell she’s trash. She’s always got someone over—some man —sitting on the front porch— veranda, she calls it—drinking beer and fanning herself like she was born on a plantation. You’d think she was Scarlett O’Hara. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her rip the curtains off the windows and yell, ‘Tomorrow is another day!’ That woman’s as phony as a three-dollar bill.” Here she looked at Jury from beneath the smooth curtain of her long hair, obviously hoping he’d agree.
    â€œGo on with what you think happened to Jimmy.” He offered her another cigarette. That seemed to please her immensely.
    As she puffed away again, she said. “You got to know Jimmy. He’s different.”
    Jury could well believe it.
    â€œJimmy started working on this project of ways to get rid of Amelia Blue and Honey Belle. It wasn’t nothing simple, like putting frogs in their beds and short-sheeting them. Jimmy, he’s real smart. He talks good, too. He decided you don’t get nowhere in this world if you don’t talk good—you know—like politicals, that sort. What he did was, he got all of these books out of the public library on poltergeists—you know. Spirits that make noise and throw stuff around. Steven Spielberg made a movie of it. You seen it?”
    Jury shook his head.
    â€œThen he told Honey Belle the house was haunted. She’s the biggest coward God ever made. Then —I don’t know how he did it—he made chairs move and glasses walk all over the cupboards. He made drawers open and all sorts of stuff. Scared them both shitless but didn’t get rid of them.” She smoked her cigarette, looking hard at the riverscape. “Jimmy’s got you might say an elaborate mind—like him.”
    Incredibly, she seemed to be studying the bronze statue. “Shakespeare, you mean?”
    â€œYeah. You ever read him? I just love that Shakespeare. I must of been to see As You Like It three times already. We had to read that in schooland I learnt all the speeches.” She ground out her cigarette. “Listen, you just got to find Jimmy.”
    He doubted she was used to pleading. . . . Hell, another hour or two on this case wouldn’t kill him. The bell of Holy Trinity Church drenched the air with its tolling of noon. “Come on, Penny. Let’s go over to Shakespeare’s birthplace and ask a few questions.”
    â€œMe?” That she would be helping out in a police investigation changed the sad look utterly. Light seemed to gleam through the dust of the freckles as she walked beside him, across the brilliant green of the grass toward Henley Street. Still, she continued her odyssey of life with her stepmother and -sister. “It’s like a steambath around that house. Jimmy’s the only thing brightened my life. Well, I’ve decided in the last two days I ain’t going back there. I’m going to stay right here and try and marry up with a duke or earl or someone. I like Him okay, but I just can’t stand those two no longer. Not being around that house with all them tits and asses. You wouldn’t happen to