A Crabby Killer Read Online Free PDF Page A

Someone cleared their throat and Zambuco cast an angry glare at the crowd. “Did someone want to say something?”
    “Umm, well, we were just wondering if we can go on with the Crab Festival.” Gus gestured toward all the tents. “We’re all setup for it and everything.”
    Zambuco's eyes slid toward the tents. “You got hot dogs up there?”
    “Yes.”
    Zambuco pivoted on his heels and looked at the crab kettle, then back at the tents.
    “The crime scene is at the end of the pier here. I want to secure the last ten feet, but the rest of the tents can stay open as usual. You can have your festival, just don’t let anyone past this point.” He drew an imaginary line on the dock with his foot.
    The medical examiner made her way up the doc and Zambuco greeted her, then handed her off to Robby. He looked over at Gus. “I guess I have time for a hot dog while Gladys does her job.”
    While Zambuco trotted off with Gus, Dom watched the police process the scene, paying particular attention to the clues they marked off and mentally gathering a few clues of his own. The medical examiner got right into the kettle to do her poking and prodding. By the time she was done, Zambuco had returned with a fresh mustard stain on his shirt.
    Zambuco peered into the kettle and grimaced. “Did you find anything?”
    “He’s been dead about six hours. I’ll have to get him back to the lab to know the exact time of death.” Gladys signaled two other policemen who brought over a stretcher.
    Dom glanced at his watch. Six hours put the time of death around two a.m., a fact which he filed away for later use.
    “Well, how did he die?” Norma demanded.
    Gladys gestured to the kettle. “Lucky for him, he wasn’t boiled.”
    “Was he battered?” someone from the crowd asked.
    “No.”
    “Bludgeoned?”
    “No.”
    “Bullet wound?”
    “None of the above.” Gladys stepped out of the kettle and let the two policemen in. They raised the body to hoist it out of the kettle and onto the stretcher.
    “He was strangled.” Gladys reached over and held up a piece of brown twine that dangled from the victim’s neck.
    Dom’s heart skipped a beat. He tried to keep his face impassive so as not to let on that he recognized the twine as the same twine that Sarah had a ball of behind her counter back at Chowders … or at least he hoped she still had a ball of it back there.
    He glanced over at Claire to see her mouth in a tight line. Her cheek twitched. He knew that look—Claire recognized the twine, too.

5
    C laire tried not gawk at the twine dangling from the medical examiner’s hand. She arranged her face in a benign composure, as if she was looking at any other clue that had no significant meaning to her.
    Except the twine did have significant meaning to her. It looked exactly like the twine Mae had showed them yesterday. The twine she used for her jam jars. The same jam jars that she'd dropped on the dock when she'd run into the tall, lanky—now deceased—guy.
    Judging by the way Dom was looking at her, he recognized the twine, too. She snuck a look at Mae whose pale face stared in the direction of the medical examiner.
    That proved to Claire that Mae didn’t kill him—she looked stunned to see the man dead. Not that Claire needed proof. She already knew Mae couldn’t have killed him. Claire was sure the look of shock was due to Mae’s surprise at seeing the man dead and not to her surprise that there was still some evidence of the twine that had strangled him around his neck.
    But why didn’t Mae say she recognized him? Maybe she didn’t know his name or anything about him. But Claire knew by the way they had been fighting that Mae must know something about the man. Maybe she was too shocked to speak up.
    “Anyone recognize our deceased?” Zambuco blurted out.
    A murmur ran through the crowd.
    Claire looked at Mae.
    Mae shut her mouth.
    “I think I seen him down on the docks yesterday,” Larry Gorham said.
    Zambuco whirled