Page 33 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case
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Polished Off

        “Oh, Lieutenant: that reminds me. Linsey Doyle is stuck behind that
        desk with that shoe polish smell hanging in the atmosphere. Could
        you let her get out of there for a while? She might as well close the
        place for business today.” If not forever, I mentally postscripted.
           “A good idea, Mr. Keane. Please tell her to come outside.”
           I re-entered Bibliopoly, holding my breath, and walked as quickly
        as I could to the cash register. “Linsey,” I gasped, forced to exhale.
        “The lieutenant said you could leave.”
           She  smiled,  almost  relaxing  into  laughter.  I  could  imagine  her
        relief. I turned and left the shop in a trot. Once again Labelle was
        coming toward me, this time from the other direction.
           “I told her,” I said. “And I think the shop should be cleaned out
        and fumigated before anyone tries to sell another book.”
           “Yet  another  practical  suggestion,  Counselor.  You  clearly  have
        your late client’s interests at heart.”
           I must have fairly beamed, receiving so much approbation from
        such a severe critic. Labelle pointed toward Esprit Decor.
           “Perhaps you should stand over there by the uniformed officer for
        a minute, Mr. Keane. I want to have a word with Linsey Doyle.”
           “Certainly. Glad to oblige.” The niece was not my client, nor was I
        certain I wanted her as one.
           The young woman came out of the shop, swinging her bag in the
        insouciant fashion of so many girls I have observed of late. Labelle
        confronted her.
           “Linsey Doyle, you are under arrest for the murder of Mariana S.
        Trench.”
           “What?” I’m not sure if I said it or Linsey did.
           “You do not need to discuss it here,” said Labelle. “I am required
        by law to inform you that although you are entitled to counsel, any
        remarks you make will be recorded and taken into evidence.”
           Now Linsey became flushed and angry. “You’re crazy! I loved my
        aunt! You’ve got no proof!”
           “On the contrary. Proof, in the sense of incontrovertible physical
        evidence,  will  be  uncovered  during  a  search  of  your  residence  and
        belongings,  and  an  accounting  of  the  nitrobenzene  stock  at  your
        school  of  cosmetology.  For  now,  I  will  say  only  that  you  had  an
        obvious  motive,  the  acquisition  of  this  property  before  Megashelf
        withdrew  its  offer;  the  means,  in  the  form  of  knowledge  of  the

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