The Fine Art of Murder by Jessica Fletcher Read Free Book Online

my latest book and didn’t want to interrupt the momentum.
    On the other hand, delivering Wayne back to Chicago and helping Marlise fed my natural instinct to rally to a friend in need. I began to rationalize. Taking a day, or perhaps two, away from my work certainly wouldn’t pose much of a burden. Accompanying him to Chicago would ensure that he didn’t change his mind and run away again, and it would put me back in direct touch with Marlise, someone for whom I had nothing but warm memories and fond feelings. My heart went out to her, losing her husband in such a brutal way and carrying the heavy yoke of suspicion of having been his killer.
    “You will go back to Chicago if I come with you?” I said.
    “Yes.”
    “I want to believe you, Wayne, but—”
    “No, no, Mrs. Fletcher. I promise.”
    “I’ll have to make a number of last-minute arrangements, but I’m willing to do that,” I said, my mind calculating the myriad details I’d need to handle before we left. “I won’t be able to stay in Chicago very long, but I do want to see Marlise again. Maybe having an old friend there even for a day or two will help boost her spirits. You go get a soft drink from the refrigerator while I check travel options for us. I must call the attorney and tell him we’ll be there. It’s unlikely that we can make reservations for tonight, but I’ll do my best. If not, you can stay here overnight and we’ll go to Chicago tomorrow.”
    “That’s great, Mrs. Fletcher. I’m sure Marlise will be happy to see you again.”
    “What’s really important is that she’ll have you to help prove her innocence. Go on, now—get something to drink. I’ll join you as soon as I make my calls.”
    I felt good about having made the decision. As psychiatrists are fond of saying, “Any action is better than no action.”
    I called the number Marlise had given me for her, but Corman answered. “Mr. Corman, this is Jessica Fletcher. We spoke earlier.”
    “Yes. Is he coming?”
    “Yes. I’ve convinced him to come back to Chicago. He’s asked that I come with him, and I’ve agreed.”
    “When will you be here?”
    “Not before tomorrow. He’s a very confused and frightened young man, Mr. Corman. I think it best that I make his trip as easy as possible.”
    “Mrs. Simsbury will be greatly relieved,” he said. “So am I. May I disclose your plans to her?”
    “Of course. And please tell her that I’m looking forward to seeing her again and that she not only has Wayne’s support to count on, she has mine, too.”
    He gave me his office address and said that once he knew our travel arrangements he would send a car to pick us up at the airport.
    My next call was to Jed Richardson. Jed had been a commercial airline pilot, but eventually he tired of big-airline bureaucracy and left to establish his own charter air service in Cabot Cove, providing flights to nearby cities and giving flying lessons. I had become one of his students a few years back and was now the proud owner of a private pilot’s license, which always amuses my friends, since I don’t possess a driver’s license.
    “Hello, Jessica,” Jed said. “Planning another trip so soon?”
    “As a matter of fact I am, a very last-minute one. A young man who’s visiting me and I need to go to Chicago tomorrow. I’ve checked schedules out of Bangor, but there doesn’t seem to be any service from there.”
    “Boston?”
    “All booked. That was my first option, but I’m also checking Hartford.”
    “Either way’s fine with me. I’ve got a free day tomorrow. Happy to ferry you and your friend wherever you want to go.”
    After I booked two seats on a late-morning flight from Hartford to Chicago, I called Seth Hazlitt.
    “How’s the book coming?” he asked.
    “Fine. I’m about to take a break for a day or two. I’m going to Chicago tomorrow.”
    “A book signing?”
    “No, I’m going to see an old friend, Marlise Morrison Simsbury.”
    “Don’t recall you