Page 43 - Labelle Gramercy, Detective

Road Kill

his beard. “She’s here. At least I think she is. Hey, Lon: isn’t Sally
here somewhere? I swear I saw her downing a Jolibrew just a couple
of minutes ago.”
“I don’t know.” Durer made his way carefully around a skewed
end table in our direction. “Lots of people have come and gone
already. Let me ask Frank.” He continued past us in the direction of
the kitchen, rolling like a drunken sailor.
I left Hofbrauer scratching the scraggly rufous thatch of hair left
him by a capricious Fate and walked back to the front door for some
fresh air. Durer had every air conditioner in his house grinding away
full blast, but they couldn’t keep up with his guests’ effluvia. As I
reached the patio I heard a motorbike drive up to the gate. Then a
foreign woman’s voice wafted over the wall, greeting the old gardien in
his native tongue. It occurred to me that this could be the missing
girl, and I rushed to meet her.
“Sally?” I addressed the tall dark-haired young lady in baggy
trousers and blouse coming toward me. “Are you Sally Furth?”
“No. My name is Labelle Gramercy. Sally is dead. Can you point
out Richard Tate to me? He’s the American chargé d’affaires.”
“I’m Richard Tate. How do you know Sally Furth is dead?”
“I’ve seen the body. I’m a Peace Corps volunteer, attached to the
Falidougou police. I can explain more on the way. They insisted I
bring a ranking American official before the body is moved, so I
suggested you.”
As she stood there with an impatient expression on her youthful
face, I must have presented the picture of a perfect double-take.
“You mean—you’re the Jolibanan liaison?”
“Yes. I’m the advisor to what might someday become a
functioning criminological investigation section of the Ministry of the
Interior, assuming science has any chance of replacing witchcraft and
political expediency as forensic methodologies. But let’s get going,
please. We should get there before it rains again or the ground is
completely trampled.”
My mind tried to deal with the diplomatic implications and
ramifications of what she had just said, while my body let itself be led
out of Durer’s compound toward the row of parked vehicles. She
studied them intently after a few more of the obligatory greetings
exchanged with the old night watchman. He had been conversing

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