"RICHARD_M_ELLIS_-_THE_DARK_WELL" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ellis Richard M)

"Because he went to some pains to try to make it look like the woman was wearin' this robe, instead of a dress, when she was attacked. And there's a couple other things."

"Hell, none of it makes sense," Mullins complained.

"Accordin' to how you look at it," said Carson.

Jack Avery thoughtfully blinked his puffy-lidded eyes. "I did hear from a couple people that Lloyd Parmeter and his sister had a fallin' out about somethin' here lately. Fact, they been expectin' Lloyd to pack up and take off, bag and baggage. Nobody that I talked to knew what the trouble was."

Mullins snorted. "I guess now, Sheriff, you'll try to tell us Lloyd took and carved up Mrs. Ames, and she had just energy enough left to put a bullet through him 'fore she died."

"No, but I am beginnin' to be real curious about the cause of the squabble between them," said Carson.

I crossed to the phone on a little desk in a corner of the room and called my wife. She belonged to most of the same ladies' clubs as had Blanche Ames. As I knew from experience, a sparrow couldn't fall in Pokochobee County much less Monroe, population 4,500 without it being a subject of conversation around the bridge tables.

Martha didn't fail me.

A few minutes later I hung up the phone and turned back to Carson and the deputies. "Parmeter was wanting to get married, and sister Blanche wasn't happy about it."

"Why not?"

"It seems she didn't like the lucky girl, though evidently Blanche had never met her. Some girl Lloyd had on the string up at the capital. The real beef seems to've been that Lloyd planned to move up there and go into business. Martha said that Blanche had been pretty close-mouthed about it all, at least by the usual standards of gossip."

Carson ran a hand through his already tangled thatch of gray hair. "And Parmeter needed his sister's blessin', in the form of cash, to make the move. Otherwise, he'd have to start all over."

"Sounds reasonable," I agreed.

The phone I'd just put down shrilled; I answered it, thinking it might be my wife with an added tidbit, but the caller was Agatha Baker.

She said, "I thought you and the sheriff might still be there. I, I wonder if you could come by my apartment? There's something I didn't want to mention it at the Hendersons', and I can't see that it matters now, but."

"All right, Miss Baker. Just what."

But she had hung up.

I relayed the message to Carson; he nodded and, after giving his deputies some instructions, he and I left.

During the short drive through the neighborhood streets to Agatha Baker's place, I groused, "You say it wasn't a sex crime okay. What was it? Not robbery. There was a fair amount of money in Mrs. Ames' purse, which was in plain sight on her bedroom dressing table. So?"

We covered another block.

Then Carson said, "I dunno, Lon. The only thing I feel reasonable sure of is that the killer had a good, logical reason for wantin' the old lady dead. From his viewpoint, anyhow. And he went to a lot of trouble to make it look like somethin' it wasn't, like switchin' that street dress for the robe Mrs. Ames was wearin', to give the idea she'd been home all evenin' and not expectin' company."

I said slowly, "If Parmeter hadn't blundered in and got himself killed, he'd make a prime suspect. Assuming this quarrel with his sister was serious enough."

"Yeah, Me, I'm wonderin' why he came in the front door."

I stared at the sheriff's craggy profile. "What?"

"His car was in the garage, alongside the one belongin' to Blanche Ames. The garage is attached to the house, with a door leadin' right into the kitchen. Why didn't he go in that way, instead of clear around the side of the house and in through the front door?"