Beer Money (A Burr Ashland Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

genuine.
    "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
    Suddenly, his face brightened.
    "Tell you what, if you want, if you think Tim would approve, give me whatever files and documents, whatever you might come across in the next week or two, and I'll help you figure out what best to do with them."
    "Anything in particular you want me to look for, Professor Vanderkin?" I asked, barely managing to keep the antagonism out of my voice.
    "No. No, nothing particular. Just trying to help out you know."
    I nodded. "I really must be going..." I said, and uncrossed my leg. My foot caught the edge of the stack of books in front of me, and I sent them crashing to the floor. They, in turn, knocked over Vanderkin's brown leather briefcase which spilled its contents onto the office's tile floor.
    One of the items that fell out was Vanderkin's wallet. It was a thick bi-fold and when it landed, it landed open.
    Just before Vanderkin scooped it up from the floor, I got a quick glimpse of the photo in the wallet's first plastic picture sleeve.
    I stood, stepped past the edge of his desk and started picking the books up.
    "That's quite all right, Mr. Ashland. Thank you," Vanderkin said quickly. He put the wallet back in the briefcase and used his foot to push the books aside.
    He turned to face me, and stuck out his hand, indicating our session was over.
    "Good luck,'" I said and shook his hand, which was warm and slick with sweat.
    I stepped into the hallway and breathed slowly, letting the tension work itself out of my body. I clenched and unclenched my hands, a movement that barely lessened my desire to choke the living shit out of William Vanderkin.
    The corridor led to a door, which opened out onto a stairwell. I took the stairs up to the fourth floor, where Tim's office had been.
    My mind was racing, wondering what Vanderkin had to do with Tim's death.
    I had found a motive. A good reason why William Vanderkin would have wanted Tim killed. In fact, not only was the motive feasible, it had been put on arrogant display in Vanderkin's wallet.
    It was a picture of Emily Lyons.
    Tim Bantien's ex-wife.

Nine
     
    I left Vanderkin’s office, climbed another set of stairs, and stood in front of Tim's office door. I produced the narrow strip of metal that I always carried in my wallet.
    I pushed aside the crime scene tape and slipped the jimmy into the keyhole of the ancient wooden door. I looked at the glass before me. Dr. Timothy Bantien, it read.
    I felt around inside, then withdrew the jimmy from the lock, gave it a slight crimp about an eighth of an inch from the end, then slipped it back in. This time, with a slight twist of the wrist, the lock clicked open and I slipped inside Tim's old office.
    The smell of old books washed over me along with the memories.
    I closed the door behind me and locked it, then slipped the jimmy back into my wallet.
    The office was bigger than Vanderkin's, nearly a perfect square with a window directly across from the door. Tim had pushed his desk up against the wall, beneath the window, with his computer on the center of the desk. That way he could type and look over the monitor out his window while he worked.
    On many occasions, I had come to see him and as I stood in the open doorway, I would see Tim, his hands clasped behind his head, fingers interlocked, staring out the window into the sky.
    The wall to the left was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, all of the tomes arranged neatly and in alphabetical order. I sat in the visitor's chair, suddenly overwhelmed by sadness. I imagined him sitting in his chair, turning and looking at me through his thick glasses, talking about some obscure item he'd dug up in an old journal somewhere, or asking me about a case I was working on.
    I stood and went to Tim's desk, then sat down in his chair. The computer was an old Macintosh. I looked for the power button on the keyboard to turn the machine on, but couldn't find it. Then I remembered that the older Macs had a power switch at the back.