And a Puzzle to Die On Read Online Free PDF Page B

says you did. Tell me what you really did.”
    “I didn’t do anything.”
    “No wonder you got convicted.”
    “Huh?”
    “The flat denial is less than persuasive.” Cora was pleased with that statement. She thought she sounded like Sherry. “Tell me what happened.” As he opened his mouth, Cora put up her hand. “And don’t say nothing happened. Something did happen. A young girl wound up dead. Your contention is you didn’t do it?”
    “Of course I didn’t do it.”
    “You must not have had a good alibi.”
    “I had a good alibi. I just didn’t have a good lawyer.”
    “What was your alibi?”
    “I was working.”
    “At the diner?”
    “That’s right.”
    “You were a short-order cook.”
    “Sometimes.”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “Sometimes I cooked. Sometimes I worked the counter.”
    “Is this important?”
    “The cops figured it was.”
    “Why?”
    “If I didn’t work the counter, I wouldn’t know the girl.”
    “You met her working the counter?”
    “I knew who she was.”
    “You talked to her?”
    “Of course I talked to her. I took her order.”
    “You took her order that day?”
    “Whenever.”
    “Whenever what?”
    “Whenever I worked the counter.”
    It was like pulling teeth. Cora took a breath. “According to the transcript, you were cooking that day. You wouldn’t have taken Anita Dryer’s order. So if you talked to her, it would have been about something else.”
    “But I didn’t talk to her.”
    “That’s not what Ray Tucker says.”
    He grimaced. “That dweeb!”
    “According to Ray, you came to the window between the kitchen and the counter, and you talked to Anita through there.”
    He shook his head. “That is so unfair.”
    “Why?”
    “That’s the pickup window. Where the waitressesget the food. There’s a little bell on the counter. You put the plate on the counter, and you look out, and if the waitress isn’t looking your way, you ring the bell. I look out that window every time I put an order up.”
    “Ray says you talked to Anita, and that she asked you when you got off.”
    “Sure he did.”
    “You didn’t do that?”
    “No.”
    “Then why’d Ray say so?”
    “You figure it out.”
    “You mean
he
killed her?”
    “That wimp? He wouldn’t have the guts.”
    “Then what do you mean?”
    Daigue shrugged. “He’s lying, he’s exaggerating, he’s making it up. He’s trying to be a big man. He was on TV, you know, same as me. He liked being on TV.”
    The prospect of getting Darryl Daigue out of jail was seeming less and less attractive. “What time did you get off work?”
    “Ten.”
    Cora, who’d already formed the next question, stopped with her mouth open. “And—Did you say
ten
?”
    “That’s right. Ten o’clock. Way after the murder.”
    “But the transcript says you got off work at eight.”
    “The transcript is wrong.”
    “How can that be?”
    “I told you. I had a lousy lawyer.”
    “But everyone testified you got off at eight.”
    “Yeah? Who’s everyone? The boss said I got off ateight. The boss wasn’t there. The cook who relieved me said I got off at eight, ’cause that’s when he relieved me. And Ray said I got off at eight ’cause everyone else says that, and Ray wants to be a big star on TV. Only he wasn’t there at eight, he just claims he heard me say it to the girl.”
    “But if the cook relieved you at eight …”
    “Doesn’t mean I left. I left the kitchen, yeah, but I worked the counter from eight to ten.”
    Cora felt a tingling on the back of her neck. “What are you talking about?”
    “What do you think I’m talking about? I’m talking about the fact I didn’t do it. I
couldn’t
have done it. I didn’t get off work till ten.”
    “But you couldn’t have worked eight till ten. Someone would have known.”
    “Someone did.”
    “Who?”
    “Ricky.”
    “Who’s Ricky?”
    “Ricky Gleason. The kid I worked the counter for.”
    Cora’s mouth fell open. “Wait a