Clifford Irving's Legal Novels - 03 - THE SPRING -- a Legal Thriller Read Online Free PDF

father-in-law passed away?”
    “No, I wasn’t taking care of it,” Jane said, and paused again for a long time. Weird woman, Queenie thought. Then Jane resumed: “I just came home for lunch, and I need to get back to the office. I’m a dental assistant and we’ve got an emergency today. Perhaps you’d better talk to my husband about this.”
    “I’m sorry to tell you the dog’s been found dead,” Queenie said. “I’m trying to locate whoever was taking care of it.”
    “I’m not sure who that was.”
    Jane Lovell didn’t sound at all upset about the dog’s death. Maybe dental emergencies did that to you, Queenie decided.
    “Mrs. Lovell, when was it that your father-in-law passed away? “
    “In August.”
    “And he was a widower?”
    “Well, not for long. My mother-in-law passed away too. Shortly before he did.”
    “Gosh, I’m sorry,” Queenie said, “but that’s common, isn’t it? That’s what happened with my uncle and aunt down in Sarasota, Florida, last year. She was so dependent on him.” She sighed. “And you don’t know who cared for the dog after your mother-in-law died?”
    “My husband will be home for supper. Could you call back then?”
    “Can I reach him now at work?”
    Jane gave her the number. Queenie thanked her and hung up. Without waiting even a second so that Jane Lovell could get through before she did, she punched out the number.
    “Quarry. Hank Lovell here.”
    Queenie identified herself, then launched into her speech about the finding of Geronimo.
    “Yes, we were concerned,” Hank Lovell said quietly. “We didn’t know what had happened.”
    “You mean you were caring for the dog?”
    “That’s right. We have two other dogs. Two Anita’s.”
    “Your wife … well, never mind. Did Geronimo run away, Mr. Lovell?”
    “Disappeared. Around September. But don’t hold me to that. I haven’t got a good memory for dates.” Hank Lovell laughed pleasantly.
    “Did you report the animal missing, sir?”
    “No, that seemed premature. We thought he’d come back.”
    “I’m sure sorry to give y’all the news this way,” Queenie said.
    “It clears up a mystery. I appreciate it. Darn shame.”
    He’s not asking me how the dog died, Queenie realized. And he’s definitely not grieving. Henry Jr. was not at all nervous or hesitant like his wife, who hadn’t known who was caring for the dog. Queenie waited a beat or two, listening to the crackling silence on the line.
    “Mr. Lovell, if there’s anything at all you want to know, just call me here at Animal Control in Aspen.”
    Queenie sat at her desk for a long while, once again studying the photos of Geronimo. It was only then that she noticed, at the lower left-hand edge of one of the photos, something that glinted dully in the shadows. She’d missed it before because she’d been studying only the dog. Queenie opened the desk drawer and took out a magnifying glass.
    A partially dirt-covered silver object lay there in the grave. A box, she thought. Maybe a pillbox.

Chapter 3
A Lawyer in Love
    IN HIS MID-THIRTIES Dennis had met Alma Bennett, a model from a small town in Virginia, a beautiful young woman much courted and admired in the New York fast lane, and one who relied on the unceasing approval of men and the comfort of cocaine. Dennis was smitten, however, and focused only on her vulnerability and need for nurturing—the knight-errant who had ridden down from Watkins Glen would save her life and sanity. She seemed to respond, to accept his caring. They married, had two children, and then one summer afternoon a tired Dennis came home to Westport from court and found Brian, his two-year-old son, wandering toward the highway a block from the house. He carried the boy home and found Alma passed out on the living room couch with a straw and a mirror and some white powder spilled on the wood of the coffee table. With the aid of a middle-aged gemütlich German housekeeper and a married sister living nearby in