The Suspect - L R Wright by L. R. Wright Read Free Book Online Page A

good, here?"
    She picked out a book by Julian Symons and another by
Ruth Rendell and handed them to him.
    "They're both English,” he said, studying the
jackets. "Doesn't surprise me. All those bizarre murders they
get over there. Ever noticed that? You see a headline in the
paper—'Eviscerated corpse found in bog,' say—and you know right
away they're talking about England.”
    She walked with him back to the checkout counter. "I
heard about Mr. Burke. It's terrible. So much more awful than if he'd
died of an illness."
    "Quicker, though," said George, getting his
library card from his wallet. "He probably never knew what hit
him."
    " Do the police know yet?" said Cassandra.
"What hit him, I mean?”
    "Who knows? It only happened yesterday. And
they're going to be vague about it, even if they do know something. A
secretive bunch, those Mounties."
    She pushed the books across the counter to him. "He
must have surprised a robber, or something."
    He loaded the books, the two mysteries and a
biography of Mozart, into a crumpled plastic grocery bag which he'd
pulled from his pocket. "He wasn't robbed. That's what they
say.”
    He shrugged. "Somebody must have had it in for
the old bugger. That's all I can figure. " He grinned at
Cassandra,. "You didn't notice. I haven't brought my last ones
back."
    " That's all right. You've only had them for a
couple of days.”
    He leaned over the counter. "The police have
them now. They're scene-of-the-crime evidence, your books."
    " Good heavens,” said Cassandra, mildly.
    "I dropped them." He pointed to the floor.
"Right next to the body, I was.”
    " Good heavens,” said Cassandra, weakly.
    " Not to worry, " said George. "They
flang themselves in the other direction."
    Cassandra saw that there was sweat on his forehead.
She thought his eyes looked feverish. Only his white hair, sweeping
in flamboyant waves out from the sides of his head, appeared
unaffected by his experience. His neck suddenly looked too thin and
scrawny to hold his large, well-shaped head erect. He had to look up
at her; Cassandra wondered if, in the physical prime of his life, he
had been taller. "It must have been dreadful for you,” she
said softly, "Finding him like that."
    He looked out the window. "It wasn't so bad. No
more than I deserve." He turned back to her. "And don't
waste your sympathy on him, either. He was one first-class Grade A
son-of-a-bitch, was Carlyle. He got exactly what was coming to him.”
He started for the door, his back straight, his legs in baggy
trousers slightly bowed.
    Cassandra was astounded. "You don't mean that,"
she said. "You can't mean that."
    He turned back, hesitated, seemed about to go on, but
when he spoke he said only, "It's time you had another look at
my garden. The roses are grand this year, just grand. Stop by. I'll
give you some lemonade.” He waved at her and was gone.
 
    CHAPTER 7
    If he had been the first of the men she'd met through
her ad he would have been a disappointment. But her standards had
plummeted, or at least her expectations had.
    She was relieved that he was neither too young nor
too old, and not ugly, either. He wasn't what she would call
extremely attractive, but at least he was tall enough, and big,
though not overweight.
    His taste in clothes wasn't anything to lift the
spirits. He wore a suit, which in Sechelt was unusual to the point of
being extraordinary—a dark gray one, with a plain white shirt and a
maroon tie that was much too wide.
    Cassandra approached him, walking briskly, holding
out her hand and grinning at him. He seemed astonished, possibly by
the wideness of her smile, but rallied enough to smile back as he
rose from the table to greet her.
    "The more nervous I am,” she said to him, "the
bigger I grin."
 
"You
must be Cassandra." He shook her hand, then pulled out a chair
for her. "I'm Karl."
    "With a K," said Cassandra, sitting down.
    "With a K,” he agreed.
    He had white-gold hair, not a sign of a wave in it,
and pale blue