The Drowning Pool (13 page)

“Think he killed Bradshaw for the Nevins woman?” Bert asked.

“Maybe, but a confession now isn’t worth much. He’s too drunk. Even if we read him his Miranda, it wouldn’t stand up.”

“Advise him anyway,” Bert urged.

“I suppose we ought to get him to talk regardless, hear whatever he’s got to offer. If it sounds like the real thing, we can pick him up for further questioning tomorrow morning.”

They waited a few extra minutes. It started to drizzle and Bert walked impatiently up and down the side of the road. “That’s it. He’s had long enough.” Just as Gardner went to get him, Sonny reappeared.

“Gotta go home. Lie down. So sick.”

He staggered toward them and they got him back into the car. Sonny smelled foul, so foul that Gardner’s own stomach became queasy. He quickly opened the car windows in spite of the fact that the drizzle was fast becoming a downpour. He did not immediately switch on the ignition.

“Before we take you home, I want you to tell us everything you did for April.”

“Don’t remember.” Sonny’s speech was slurred, but he still had a certain amount of control. “Please, home.”

“Come on, kid. What did you do for her?” Bert insisted. “Tell us and we’ll take you home.”

“There was blood.” The boy didn’t say anything else and Bert shook him.

“Who killed Bradshaw? Did April Nevins? Did you do it for her?”

“So sick. Gotta go home…” Sonny passed out.

“We’ll get him in tomorrow. Guess he’s more involved in the murder than we thought.”

“Than
you
thought,” Bert said.

“He’s a material witness, at any rate. He obviously saw the body in the utility room after Bradshaw was dead.”

“I say he’s an accomplice. It was Sonny who moved the body to the pool. Seems he did it for April Nevins. Maybe you were right after all, and a woman did murder Bradshaw.”

“It’s a real possibility,” Gardner agreed. “But we will need to interrogate Miss Nevins again.”

“Looks like one of us is going to work tomorrow. There’s no sense both of us coming in on our day off. I’ll pick up Sonny tomorrow morning and bring him down to headquarters.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Gardner said.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me, a woman of color, to handle this alone? You figure only a white male cop can do it right?”

“Cut the crap!” Gardner swung the car back into traffic and drove steadily down the dimly lit highway doing his best not to lose his temper.

“All right, then why should we both be cheated? I don’t have any family. Nobody cares if I work or don’t. Besides, having a day off means a lot less to me than it does to you. And if I need you, I can always reach you at home.”

“All right, on one condition.”

“Which is?” She eyed him askance.

“You make it to my house later for the barbecue.”

Then Bert did something that really surprised him—she smiled, completely transforming the belligerent expression on her face to one of amity. Had he ever seen her smile before? He didn’t think so.

Gardner stopped the car in front of the address Sonny had given them. Then he got out and came around the other side to give Bert a hand with the unconscious youth.

“Damned kid’s heavier than an elephant and smells worse than moldy cheese. Be glad to dump him,” she said.

Slowly, they struggled up the stairs to a poorly lit front porch. Gardner noticed in passing that the old Victorian style house badly needed a fresh coat of paint. He rang the doorbell and they waited. A middle-aged woman with puffy bags under her eyes answered the door. She saw Sonny and gasped.

“What’s wrong with my boy?”

They brought him into the house and deposited the boy on a well-worn sofa.

“Just too much to drink,” Gardner reassured her. “He’ll be fine in the morning except for a headache.”

Sonny’s mother wrung her hands anxiously. Gardner studied her. Sonny had inherited his blond hair from his mother, although hers was paler, substantially invaded by white so that the original color had faded. She was tall, had washed-out blue eyes and was thin to the point of emaciation. Her checked cotton housedress hung listlessly from her frame. Everything about her suggested yesterday.

“Was he with that horrible city woman again? I know he’s been keeping fast company. A whore has corrupted him with her evil ways, forced a young, innocent boy like that to drink and fornicate.” The woman’s face became unnaturally flushed. “That harlot will burn in the fires of hell. Don’t think she won’t! And just who are you?”

“Police officers, ma’am,” Gardner responded courteously. He showed her his shield.

“Did Sonny get into some kind of trouble tonight? If he did, it was her fault.”

Gardner ducked the question. “Detective St. Croix will be back here to talk with your son tomorrow morning. Please see that Sonny remains here and waits for her.”

“I don’t understand,” she said in an alarmed voice.

“Nothing to be upset about,” Gardner said. “But there are some questions Sonny has to answer related to the Bradshaw homicide at the pool club. You heard about it?”

She patted down her short, thin hair. He recognized it as a nervous gesture.

“Sonny told me about the murder, and there was also an account in the newspaper. Well, I suppose I should thank you for bringing my son home.” But the woman didn’t appear grateful; if anything, she looked frightened.

As they left, Gardner had a premonition that Bert would not have an easy time tomorrow, and it worried him. Yet he realized there really wasn’t anything he could do about it.

NINE

Mike Gardner yawned and relaxed after having spent the morning marketing with the girls and doing a few needed home repairs. The sun warmed his back and he felt like a lizard resting on a rock. His nose told him it was time to inspect the barbecue. Reluctantly, he lifted himself off the chaise and walked the few steps from the grass to the well-shaded patio. The charcoal was finally turning white, and there was no longer any flame. This was the kind of even heat he considered perfect for cooking. Although the coals looked deceptively ash-like, in reality, the hibachi was experiencing its greatest intensity of heat at this time. Everyone raved at the perfection of his barbecuing skill, but he knew himself to be no great chef; it was all a matter of patience and subtlety. With care, he arranged steaks and burgers on the grill, setting hot dogs aside for later use.

“Hey, Dad!”

Gardner looked up as his younger daughter, Jean, splashed him. She was with her two cousins, Mark, nine, and Jerry, twelve; the three got along well together. They were still young enough to enjoy the above-ground pool he put up some years ago, which was in reality little more than an over-sized bathtub. He found himself thinking idly of the beautiful pool at La Reine Gardens with its magnificent Olympic size. He let out a deep sigh. Swimming was a sport he enjoyed but had little time to indulge in.

“Dad, give me a hand with these.” Evie, as usual, was carrying too many things at once. She tried so hard to act like a grown-up that it made his heart hurt.

He relieved her of some items and helped set down buns, potato salad, pickles, relish, ketchup and mustard on the long, redwood picnic table.

“I put up corn and I’m fixing vegetable salad. You want beer as well as soda?”

“Bert might want it. I’m not certain of her tastes.”

“You’re sure she’s coming?”

“No, but she hasn’t phoned, so I guess she’ll be by.”

“What’s she like?” Evie tilted her head.

Gardner shrugged. “Different from anyone else I’ve ever worked with, but she’s a pro. Why should I say anything? You can make up your own mind—you always do anyway.”

Evie eyed him narrowly, putting her hands on her slim hips. “Is anything wrong with her? She’s not chasing after you, is she? I bet Kim wouldn’t like that.”

He laughed and gave his daughter a reassuring hug. “Nope. Bert’s only got to the point of tolerating me. Try to be friendly and avoid snarling. Bert’s the sensitive type, although she doesn’t look or act it.”

Evie raised her chin. “I am always polite. Don’t I put up with those snotty little kids?” She inclined her head toward the pool.

“They are respectively your sister and your cousins,” he pointed out.

“They’re still annoying.”

Actually, he loved having all the kids around. He enjoyed the boys; they played rough as he and his own brother once had, but they were good-natured and fun to be with. He never objected to his brother and sister-in-law leaving the boys with him when they wanted some alone time.

Jean climbed out of the pool and shook herself like a dog.

“Hey, watch that!” Evie said.

“Dad, do you think I’m getting fat? Mark says I’m a blimp.” There were tears in Jean’s eyes.

“No, honey, you’re pleasingly plump. I think you look just right. Very attractive in fact.” He put his arm around her waist, gave her a squeeze and kissed her cheek.

“Still, a diet is in order. I’m not looking forward to some future time when people refer to my sister as ‘ravishingly rotund.’ You’ve got to start cutting down on calories.”

Mike could tell that Evie’s remark made Jean feel worse.

“You’re beautiful just as you are,” he assured his younger daughter. “But if you want to lose weight for health reasons, that’s fine with me.”

“As the Duchess of Windsor said: you can never be too rich or too thin,” Evie remarked.

Gardner cocked an eyebrow. “Girls, your old man’s a cop. You’re never going to be too rich unless you earn the big bucks yourself or marry money, and trust me, there really is such a thing as being too thin.”

“Dad, speaking of money. I plan to go shopping with my girlfriends later. I need new jeans for my date tonight.”

“The twenty pairs she has in her closet aren’t good enough,” Jean said.

“I think I’m missing something here,” Gardner said. “What date? You’re too young to be dating.”

“No, I’m not. Anyway, it’s just another camp counselor. He asked me out because we’re friends.”

Gardner walked over to check on the meat.

“Well, I expect to meet this boy you plan on dating.”

“Dad, must you be so old-fashioned?”

“Something bothering you about him?” he countered. “Are you ashamed to have him meet your old man?”

“God, you’re actually interrogating me!” Evie placed her arms across her chest, her expression fierce. “You’re treating me like I was one of your criminals.”

Evie might be outraged, but he had no intention of backing down on this. “I ought to meet all of your dates regardless, but this one in particular since he’s your first.”

“I’ve gone out in groups with guys and girls before. This is no big deal.” The flush on her face told him different.

“We’ll have to see about that. The way you’re behaving, I don’t like him already.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re overprotective.”

“In my line of work, I see what can happen to young girls.”

“Your work gives you a dark view of life.”

“No, just realistic.” He and Evie faced each other like two gladiators.

“I know him, Dad,” Jean interjected. “I don’t think you’ll like him.”

“Why not?” Gardner asked.

“To begin with, he wears sloppy, torn jeans and his hair needs to be cut.”

“That’s in style,” Evie said, turning toward her sister.

“I prefer the clean-cut look,” Gardner said.

“And he wears sunglasses he never takes off,” Jean continued.

Evie’s eyes narrowed. “So what?”

“A guy who won’t look you in the eye is up to no good.”

Evie shrugged. “He just might have a good reason for keeping them on.”

“Sure, like being a drug addict?”

“Like wanting to look cool.” Evie’s face had turned scarlet. “Jean, you’re letting your imagination run away with you. Why assume the worst? You’re just jealous, aren’t you? You want to ruin my date for me.”

Jean stuck her tongue out at Evie.

Evie turned from Jean back to her father. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just a little kid who watches way too much TV. Dad, how can you criticize a boy you’ve never met? Why do you discount my opinions as if they aren’t worth taking seriously?”

“I do value your opinion,” he said. “Okay, I promise not to pass judgment too hastily. Satisfied?”

Evie nodded her head, still frowning.

“But someone has to watch out for you kids.”

“You’re out all day and night arresting criminals, making like super cop. You hardly have time for us.”

Every once in a while, Evie expressed her frustration and dissatisfaction with his job. Evelyn used to accuse him of being married to police work rather than her. In some ways, Evie reminded him of her mother. It wasn’t a simple matter to reassure her. He hated it when she got into one of her dark moods.

He heard the doorbell ring at the front of the house and walked around to greet his guest. Kim stood there looking beautiful in denim shorts and a hot pink shirt in a silky material.

“Why are you staring at me that way?” she asked self-consciously.

“I was just noticing how great you look.”

“You like the outfit?”

He folded her into his arms. “I love it.”

“This morning I realized I had no casual clothes, nothing appropriate for an outdoor barbecue. So I went to the mall and did some shopping. Terrific bargains on sportswear this time of the year.”

“You ought to wear casual clothes more often. I’m used to seeing you as a professional. Let me tell you something, Madam Librarian. You are truly a gorgeous gal, one sexy woman.”

She blushed deeply. “I’m glad you find me attractive.”

“Oh, it goes beyond that.” He held her close and whispered in her ear. “All I can think about right now is stripping you naked and having wild sex with you right here on the lawn.”

“And scandalize your neighbors?”

“Place is like a morgue. It’s needs a little excitement.”

She shook her head at him. “You say the most outrageous things.”

“Isn’t that why you love me?”

“I’m not going to answer that. Where are the girls?”

“Everyone’s out back. I’ll introduce you to my two rowdy nephews.” He took her arm and led her around to the yard.