Page 7 - Labelle Gramercy, Detective

Road Kill

confined in a conservative dark suit, gave the appearance of beef
well-marbled with fat. His face had a pugnacious look to it, even in
repose. And, like Foster Kerr, his hair seemed to have been parted
with a ruler.
“Eliot Holloman?” He made my name sound like a misdemeanor.
“Yes, sir.” We shook hands; or, rather, he introduced several of
the bones in my right hand to each other for the first time. “The two
girls you want to interview are sitting outside.”
He nodded, alternately expanding and contracting the rolls of flesh
under his chin and on the back of his neck. “I’ll take them one at a
time. But first, are you familiar with either of them?”
“Oh, yes. They’re seniors, so I’ve talked at least once to each of
them about their future plans.” He tilted his head like a dog hearing a
high-frequency whistle. “That’s my job,” I added lamely.
Fassner took out a small notebook from the inside of his jacket
and began flipping through its pages. I surreptitiously scanned his
outer clothing for signs of a concealed weapon. The policeman
frowned at what he was reading, then glared at me.
“Well, what do you think of them? Are they likely to be good
witnesses?”
Now I really felt like an accused criminal. How could I answer that
without making a fool of myself? “Captain, I have no idea. My
exposure to these students is very fragmentary and has nothing to do
with whatever character trait leads to reliability in reporting what has
been observed—unless that is reflected in grade point average. If so,
I can tell you that Sherrie Cook is about average in most subjects; she
does not appear to have any specific career goal in mind that I know
of. Labelle Gramercy has definite plans to go to college, and has the
academic record to get her there, but her motivation is not based
upon—”
He cut me off, waving an arm as thick as my leg. “Never mind.
I’ve dealt with kids before. Bring one in here, and I’ll get on with it.
But, remember: this is official police business, and as such is
confidential. I’m questioning them here instead of the station as a
favor to Principal Kerr: civilians are not normally present. You got
that?”
“Yes, sir!” The man was impatient, and I hastened to do his
bidding. I opened the door and beckoned to Sherrie Cook. Best to

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