Page 59 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case
P. 59

Thrown for a Loss

        knew her. Sometimes I can’t recognize  my  own  face in  the  mirror
        after my father slaps me around a bit.”
          “Have you been here before when the escalator buzzer went off?”
          “Yeah,  I  think  so.  Yeah.  It  must  have  been  a  few  weeks  ago.
        That’s how I knew what it was. So I got away from it as fast as I
        could. Didn’t want anybody  to think I had anything  to do with it.
        Went over there by the clothing store.” He pointed at Safari to Go
        right past my face. If he were my boy I’d have him wash his hands at
        least  once  a  day,  anyway.  “Don’t  think  anyone  was  on  it,  can’t
        remember any para—paramedicals like this time.  It was late  in  the
        day, not like now.”
          Now that was interesting. Maybe she did have a reason to question
        these kids so closely. Just keep picking away and sooner or later the
        truth comes out, right?
          “Were any of your friends, the ones sitting at that table, with you
        on that occasion?”
          Oops!  Luke  suddenly  decided  he  was  being  led  in  a  dangerous
        direction. He stiffened. Instinct told me that he would not stand up
        before he attacked. And he was the type to have a weapon in those
        baggy trousers.
          “Hey! Are you accusing me of pushing that button? I don’t need
        no  alibi!”  He  pushed  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and  hunched
        forward. I shifted my weight, ready for what might be in either hand
        when they came out.
          “Don’t you, Luke? If those are really your friends, they should be
        able to tell us where you were at 4:07 p.m. today. Can they?”
          So  this  was  her  tactic.  Get  him  to  talk  about  the  others  by
        questioning their loyalty. Not a trick that would fool anyone with an
        ounce of sense, but that wouldn’t be Luke O’Dermal. His hands were
        moving around in his pockets. What would come out first: words or
        a knife?
          Suddenly he sat up straight again. “Okay,” he said. “They can tell
        you. Curt was with me when we got over there, so was Cal after the
        alarm started.”
          “And the other one?”
          “Newt,” I supplied.
          “Newt. Oh, yeah, I think he was in the bathroom, ‘cause he was
        asking what happened. Seemed like a stupid thing to ask.”

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