"Broussard, John A - Kay Yoshinobu - Death On Watch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Broussard John A)

"Well, a couple a nights before, I went out drinking with a couple a guys."

"Oh, God! You told them what you were going to do?"

"That was kinda dumb, wasn't it?"

Kay decided there was no point in voicing her hearty agreement, settling instead for the names and addresses of his drinking partners.

With her pen poised over her notepad, she found it difficult to believe her ears. "It's going to be tough to talk to them. We were celebrating their joining the Marines. They both left the next day for the Mainland. Besides, about a half-dozen other guys got in on the celebration, and by then I couldn't even tell what they looked like."

Kay closed her eyes at the thought that half of Elima had probably known about the date, time and place of the planned burglary, to say nothing of the clear identity of the burglar. In addition, the notion she had harbored that the murderer had also been the one to tip the police off to the burglary now went by the board. The caller could simply have been someone bearing a grudge against Mark. Or even the mythical concerned citizen. There was some small consolation in knowing now that the murderer could easily have had the needed information for planting the gun, but that knowledge wouldn't help much in court.

* * *

If Sid's latest contribution had led nowhere, his first suggestion - that Franco's wife could be a likely candidate - seemed more productive, though Laks and Franco had not actually married.

Louanne Laks was probably in her early thirties. Tall, thin, with lank brown hair, she appeared to be a congenitally unhappy person. At first, Kay wrote off the sadness as a reaction to Franco's death, but as the interview proceeded it became evident her appearance was a reflection of more than that.

"I warned Ben," she said. "I was hooked on booze for years, and if it weren't for God and AA I'd still be a drunk - maybe dead by now. I told Ben he was doing the same thing to people just like me. I told him."

Kay wasn't following, but she knew that interrupting the flow of words might cut off communication entirely. Instead of saying anything, she merely nodded.

"He'd been dealing, you know. Ice."

The fog was clearing. Franco had been selling methamphetamine. Kay saw the scene forming out of the haze.

"While he was on watch?" she asked, softly.

Louanne's expression became even sadder. She nodded. "It was a good job. Decent pay. Easy. He didn't need to deal. I finally got him to promise to quit. But he was in so deep, I wasn't sure he could, even though he insisted that he was going to break clean."

"Do you know who his supplier was?"

Louanne seemed to be only half listening, but her head moved barely perceptibly from side to side.

Louanne may not have known, but Kay now thought she knew. And, for the
first time, she could envision a premeditated murder and not what the police were convinced happened - a shooting incidental to a burglary. The key was a pickup that somehow, seemingly by chance, didn't work on that fateful night. There was one more interview to go, and that one might very well exonerate Mark.

* * *

Aaron Franco's repair shop was immaculate. Kay was struck by the contrast with most such shops she'd been in. Aaron, himself, had on a clean pair of coveralls. He apologized for dirty hands that were actually clean and waved Kay over to the small glass cubicle serving as an office.

Aaron denied any knowledge of Ben's drug activities - but then Kay had hardly expected him to admit it if he had known. Her main interest was in Ben's truck, which the police had turned over to Aaron.

"I kept that baby running like a top," he said. "It was always in perfect condition. That's why I couldn't figure out why I couldn't get it started. Well, I found out why."

Kay waited for him to continue.

"Someone poured sugar into the tank."

* * *