Dead Funny Read Online Free PDF Page B

trousers were spotless. If he’d done that there would have been marks on them. Anyway, he looked too old for that sort of thing.” I spread butter thickly on a slice of toast. “Hey, you don’t think someone might have let him in, do you?”
    “Who?”
    “I don’t know. Sylvia could have. Or Judy.” I took a bite of toast. Spitting crumbs at Graham I said, “Judy’s not at all upset about her mother. And Sylvia said they’d been arguing about money. Maybe Judy let him in before she went shopping?”
    Graham agreed that it was a distinct possibility. I’d finished eating, so Graham went downstairs and waited while I got dressed. Brushing my hair forward for maximum invisibility, I gathered up my swimming things and made for the door.
    To reach the pool we had to cross the courtyard at the back of the house and then walk along an avenue of vines where a few over-ripe bunches of grapes were still hanging just out of reach.
    “You wouldn’t have thought the Californian climate would be suitable for cultivating an English country garden. It’s so warm and dry here,” observed Graham. “How will your mother get things to grow in this heat?”
    I didn’t bother to answer. I wasn’t interested in plants. We reached the end of the shaded avenue and there before us was an expanse of terrace, edged on two sides with columns of thin, pointy cypress trees and dotted with potted cacti. In the centre was a lovely circular pool. My heart lifted at the thought of us having it entirely to ourselves but before we stepped out of the shadows something bobbed across the water that made me sigh with irritation.
    Judy. Blonde hair brushed up into a hideous pink cap, wearing movie star sunglasses and a glittering gold bikini. In one hand she held a large, purple cocktail and in the other was a glossy magazine. She was lying on the biggest inflatable I’d ever seen – long, bright green and resembling some sort of amphibious reptile. A dinosaur, perhaps. Or a crocodile.

who benefits?
    We couldn’t go for a swim with Judy in the pool so we went for a walk instead. We explored for a while, but the weather was incredibly hot compared to England. When we found a shaded seat with a view out over the grounds to the city beyond, we slumped into it gratefully. We were sitting there quietly when we heard the heavy tread of Lieutenant Weinburger’s feet and saw the gleaming dome of his bald head on the path just below us. He was with another officer, but neither of them had spotted us. Without a word, Graham and I slid further back into the trees so we could remain out of sight.
    There was the crackle of a radio, and the lieutenant had a brief, angry conversation with the person on the other end. Then he turned to his colleague.
    “The pathologist’s report has just come through,” he said. “That kid was right. It was no accident.” He didn’t sound pleased, but then you wouldn’t expect a streetwise cop to relish being proved wrong by a mere kid.
    I punched the air silently and grinned with satisfaction.
    “Was she pushed?” asked the other policeman.
    “No.” Lieutenant Weinburger’s tone was troubled. “Or at least she didn’t die as a result of the fall.”
    “But her neck was broken, wasn’t it?”
    Lieutenant Weinburger nodded. “Yeah. But she was already dead when that happened. She died by drowning.”
    Graham and I looked at each other, mouths agape.
    “Drowning?”
the other policeman echoed. “But she was fully clothed! How? Where?”
    “In her bathroom. The forensic team are up there now. It seems someone held her head under water. That smell of bleach was cleaning fluid. She was drowned in the john.”
    “The
what
?” I mouthed at Graham.
    “It’s an American word for toilet,” he whispered back.
    “Strangest way to kill someone I ever heard of.” Lieutenant Weinburger was shaking his head. The two men continued along the path, moving out of earshot.
    “How extraordinary!” said Graham.