Page 126 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Soaked to the Bone

little red sports car, the Japanese one, that was on the street, too.
That belongs to, uh—you, know, Miss Cora: he works with you.”
I hated to put words in his mouth, but others would corroborate
them. “That would be Nick Krotz, Lieutenant. Unless someone else
has the same vehicle. And I’m certain he was here in the afternoon.”
Labelle was making notes in her palm computer. “Were you in a
position to see who came and went after you saw Fish about three
o’clock?”
Gene took a few seconds to unroll a tattered map of spacetime in
his mind. “That’s a good question: I pretty much was, I guess,
working in the front until I left. Last thing I did was take out the
barrels.”
“Whose cars were still there when you left, as you said, at five-
thirty?”
“Did I say that?” He scratched his ear, maybe aiming for his scalp
but missing. “Anyway, I did leave at five-thirty. Always give fair value
for money, I do. By then, Miss Alma had gone—I saw her go at her
usual time. Mr. Tim and Mr. Nick were gone, too, by then. Mr. Nick
came out in a hurry, didn’t even say hello to me like he usually does.
That had to be a bit past three o’clock. Mr. Nick came through the
side gate around an hour later. He told me he had locked it on the
inside per Mr. Fish’s instructions.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Nope. Mr. Fish likes to tell the last one out the door to lock up
so he won’t have to get out of his hot tub and do it. I was already
through with my work back there so it was okay with me.”
“Were any of those people carrying anything out of the ordinary?”
For a guy who minded his own business, Gene was revealing a
streak of keen interest and observation. “I don’t think so. Not so I
noticed, at any rate. Alma had her purse, of course; I’ve seen her
come in with her lunch in a bag, but that wouldn’t come out again,
would it? Mr. Nick had a briefcase kind of thing, which he always
has. Mr. Tim’s hands were empty. Yes, I saw him smack his fist into
his palm on his way to his car. Man, that thing pumped out a big
cloud of black smoke when he revved it up.”
He shook his head, as slowly as might a man burdened with the
awful knowledge of human frailty and foible.

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