Page 136 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case
P. 136

Soaked to the Bone

          “Not a heart attack?”
          “No evidence of one, and the lungs were filled with water from
        the tub.”
          “I see.”
          Tim fell into a puzzled silence, brows knitted. What in that cut-
        and-dried account could give him cause for wonder? Having heard
        that description for the first time, I realized it all made perfect sense:
        drinking heavily after a stressful afternoon, then falling asleep in the
        warm water, Fish somehow slid off the molded plastic bench in the
        tub and swallowed too much water to recover. A freak accident, to be
        sure, but certainly not the first of its kind. Then I knew what was in
        Tim’s muddled mind.
          “Lieutenant,” I quietly asked, “what was his blood alcohol level?”
          “Point nine percent. Legally intoxicated.”
          Not  abnormal  for  Fish  that  time  of  day,  I  thought.  Maybe  the
        confrontations, if such they were, with Nick and Tim had not really
        driven  him  to  imbibe  an  even  greater  quantity  than  usual  of  Jack
        Daniels. That made the accidental explanation weaker, in my inexpert
        opinion.
          “Mr.  Lane:  can  you  tell  me  where  you  were  late  yesterday
        afternoon?”
          Labelle  Gramercy  was  being  polite  and  tactful—for  her.  To  me
        the  question  was  unnecessarily  blunt  and  abrupt  after  the
        unsympathetically-delivered  post  mortem.  Tim’s  hands  began  to
        twitch. Could he have imagined that he would be above suspicion?
          “I  was  at  home  until  three-thirty  or  so.  Maybe  the  telephone
        records will show my last call before going out: it was to my father. I
        arranged to see him privately as soon as I could get up here. So I
        arrived around four o’clock, spoke with him for a few minutes, and
        left.”
          “Wasn’t that rather a short visit?” Labelle was locked into his eyes.
        I wouldn’t have had the courage; if he were dangerous, wouldn’t that
        be provocative? Don’t animals interpret a direct gaze as threatening?
        Then how  can predators hypnotize their prey? I  bet the  lieutenant
        could answer that without having studied herpetology.
          “It  was  business.  I  needed  to  ask  him  something.  I  did,  he
        answered, and I left.”


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