4 The Killing Bee Read Online Free PDF Page B

murderer, and then getting the right one more or less by accident. But darned if I would admit that to Chief Walsh.
    "Why don't you check the cigarette butts out back? See if you find a couple that Laura smoked. That would confirm her story."
    "What, you think I'm gonna run DNA tests on fifty butts when it won't even confirm anything, because she could've smoked out there anytime? Dream on."
    I stood up. "If that ’s all you have to say, I guess I'll be going."
    "Just one more thing," the chief said, standing up too. Then an amazing thing happened. In the space of a nanosecond his face suddenly went ice-cold, like someone had flipped a secret switch and told the chief ’s inner Nazi to come out of hiding. "You should know, I have a nice cozy jail cell all picked out for you. So go ahead, interfere with my investigation. See what happens. I have half a mind to arrest you for obstructing justice right now."
    "Obstructing justice? What have I done?"
    "I'll think of something. Now get the hell out of my office."
    Ah, this was more like it. This was the Chief Walsh I knew and loved.
     
    I didn't know where Ms. Helquist lived, or even her full name. So I borrowed a phone directory at a gas station on Lake Avenue, and found only one person with her last name: Hilda Helquist. That had to be her. "Hilda" fit her to a tee.
    Ms. Helquist was an efficient, serious woman with conservatively coiffed white hair and thick black glasses. She was the kind of secretary who could really run the school on her own, without the principal's help. Come to think of it, until we got an acting principal that’s exactly what she'd be doing.
    I dr ove up to 87 Ash, Hilda Helquist’s address, and recognized the house immediately. It was only two blocks from where we lived, and I'd often stopped to admire her garden. From April to October she always had wild splashes of colors out there. The garden wasn't laid out in some careful, staid pattern, it was more like barely controlled exhilaration. In fact, it seemed totally at odds with Ms. Helquist's uptight demeanor. I began to wonder if she really lived here. Maybe I had the wrong Helquist.
    But as I walked up to the front door, I spotted the right Helquist at the side of the house, near the driveway. Like a lot of homeowners in our working -class section of town, she didn't have a garage, just off-street parking. Myself, I kind of liked that setup. I mean sure, it could be a drag wiping a foot of snow off our cars on freezing February mornings, but I always think houses look much more aesthetic without a giant yawning garage door staring you in the face. Right now Ms. Helquist, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt—clothes I'd never seen on her before—was pruning back some aggressive grapevines that had attached themselves to her yew bushes.
    I went up to her. "Ms. Helquist."
    Engrossed in her pruning, or perhaps hard of hearing, she didn't answer. I moved closer. "Ms. Helquist."
    "Aaaaahl" she yelled, and whipped her body around to face me. She was only a few feet away, and when she raised her pruning shears toward me, I was afraid she'd clip my nose off. Of course, given the size of my proboscis, some people might say that would improve my looks.
    "Hey, sorry," I said, putting my hands up and backing away.
    "Mr. Bums," she said, flustered, and lowered her shears. "You startled me."
    "Terribly sorry," I apologized again. "I didn't mean to —"
    " That’s okay, it’s not your fault. I guess I'm a little . . . spooked, after this morning."
    "You weren't there, were you?" I asked, hoping to sound innocently conversational. "I didn't see you."
    "No, I stayed home. I have a cold."
    Hmmm . She wasn't sniffling, her nose wasn't red, her voice wasn't hoarse, and she was outside gardening. I wished I could have colds like that.
    She caught my doubtful look. "I know what you're thinking. I don't look sick."
    "Well . . ."
    "I guess I might as well admit it, since I already told Lieutenant Foxwell. I'm not really