Page 69 - Labelle Gramercy, Detective

Road Kill

up the Sally Furth investigation.” At these words the poker players
came back to life. Muttering and scraping of chairs were cut off by
Labelle’s implacable tones: “Please stay where you are. I will present
the results of that investigation here and now.”
The men acquiesced, cowed by the intensity and resolve of this
remarkable young woman. I could only guess at the effect of
adrenaline mixing with alcohol in their bloodstreams. No doubt
Labelle had already calculated the potency of that intravenous
cocktail to several degrees of precision.
“Those of you familiar with Sally will not be surprised to learn
that she was engaged in an attempt to further her career when she
died. Her standing in JoliSol was not secure enough to suit her; she
wanted to be assured of advancement to a consulting position after
terminating with the Peace Corps. Toward that end she needed the
support of someone in a position of authority here. Her method was
simple but effective: having discovered one such individual’s illegal
activities, she threatened him with exposure to another powerful
man. Either way she would come out ahead: if the one she
blackmailed refused to co-operate, then the one she ran to with her
story would provide the reward. Unfortunately, despite her ability to
manipulate men, she had no gauge of their ruthlessness. Ambition
can, indeed, be blind.”
The tension in the room was palpable now. Sally Furth’s character
was no mystery to most of those seated around the table before us.
“Thursday night,” Labelle went on relentlessly, “Sally stopped at
the Peace Corps office before going on to Lon Durer’s party on her
mobylette. Why? I believe she wanted to see if a letter had arrived
from the States. I think she found that letter, read it and put it into a
hiding place in the administration building. She didn’t want to have it
on her when she confronted the person she was going to blackmail.
Her movements after that point are clear: she went to the Durer villa,
was rebuffed by her target despite telling him she had proof of his
crimes, returned to the Peace Corps office, collected the letter and
was on her way to see Ambassador Weatherall at the Hotel du Fleuve
when the man she had attempted to blackmail caught up with her in
Lon Durer’s Land Rover and killed her.”
It seemed plausible to me, fitting what few facts had been
established, but there were no eyewitnesses and the incriminating

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