B is for Burglar
Page 51"The door was standing open?"
He shook his head. "I just kind of turned the knob and it was unlocked. When I stuck my head in I knew something weird was going on.…"
I waited, watching him uneasily.
He cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder at the front entrance. His voice dropped.
"I think the guy was still there, you know? The light was on in the basement and I could hear someone knocking around down there and there was this rug in the hall, like an area rug that had been thrown over something. I saw a hand sticking out with blood on it. Man, I took off."
"You're pretty sure she was dead at that point?"
He nodded, hanging his head. He ran a hand along the pink center divider of hair, looking off to one side. "I should've called the cops. I knew I should, but the whole thing really freaked me out. I hate that shit. And what was I supposed to do? I couldn't tell the cops anything and I didn't want 'em looking at me, so I just kept my mouth shut. I mean, 1 couldn't see what difference it made. I didn't see who did it or anything like that."
"Do you remember anything else? A car parked out front…"
"I don't know. I didn't stay long. I took one look at that shit and I was gone. I could smell all these gasoline fumes or something and…"
I took a sip of wine, running through his story. The chablis tasted like fermented grapefruit juice. "Tell me about the grocery bag. Was it empty, full, crumpled?"
"It had stuff in it, I think. I mean, I didn't see anything in particular. It was one of those brown paper bags from Alpha Beta, standing just inside the door to the right."
"Did it look like she'd been shopping? Is that what you're trying to say?"
He shrugged. "It just looked like junk, I guess. I don't know. Maybe it belonged to whoever was down in the basement."
"Too bad you didn't make an anonymous call to the cops. Maybe they could have gotten there before the place went up in smoke."
"Yeah, I know. I thought about that later and I was bummed I didn't do that, but I wasn't thinking straight."
He polished off his soft drink and rattled the ice in the cup, tilting a cube into his mouth. I could hear the ice crunching in his teeth. It sounded like a horse chewing on a bit.
"Do you remember anything else?"
"You have any idea what time it was?"
"Nuh-un, not exactly. It was quarter of nine when I got here and it probably took me ten minutes on the motorcycle by the time I found a place to park and all like that. I had to walk the sucker for two blocks so nobody would hear me start it up. It was probably eight-thirty or something like that when I left Uncle Leonard's house."
I shook my head. "Not eight-thirty. You must mean nine-thirty. She wasn't killed until after nine."
He took the cup away from his mouth, looking at me with puzzlement. "She wasn't?"
"Your uncle and Mrs. Howe both say they talked to her at nine and the cops took a call they think was your aunt at nine-oh-six."
"Well, maybe I got it wrong then because I thought it was quarter of nine when I got here. I looked at the clock when I walked in and then I turned around and asked this buddy of mine what time it was and he checked his watch."
"I'll see if I can check that out," I said. "By the way, how's Leonard related to you?"
"My dad and him are brothers. Dad's the youngest in his family."
"Something like that."
The purple neon tubes began to blink out in succession and the pink ones went dark after that. The owner of the place called over to the table. "Closing down in ten minutes, Mike. Sorry to break it up."
"That's okay. Thanks, man."
We got up, moving toward the back entrance. He was not much taller than I and I wondered if we looked like brother and sister or mother and son. I didn't say anything else until we got to the parking lot.
"You have any theories about who killed your aunt?"
"No, do you?"
I shook my head. "I'd get that shed cleaned out if I were you."