Full Frontal Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

Bobby’s high little voice calling out “Giddyap!” A stooped-over Perlmutter came into the room with Bobby riding on his shoulders.
    Fairchild stood up and went to meet them. “So, you’ve found a new horse, have you?” He lifted Bobby off Perlmutter’s shoulders and placed him on his own.
    Perlmutter straightened up. “Thanks,” he said in relief.
    Bobby pointed a finger at Marian. “Uncle Alex, Mary Ann’s a p’liceman!”
    â€œYes, she is, isn’t she?” Fairchild jumped up and down in place, making the little boy squeal with laughter.
    Time to go. Marian thanked Fairchild for his help, said good-bye to Bobby, and nodded to Officer Bartolomew holding the door for them.
    â€œDon’t forget Thursday night,” Alex Fairchild called after them. The door closed.
    â€œYou got a date with Fairchild, Lieutenant?” Perlmutter asked, deadpan.
    â€œExhibition of his photographs. Some gallery on Fifty-seventh.” Jarvik, the Heron Security man, was still at his post across the street. “Did you get anything from Bobby?”
    â€œI’m not sure.” Marian unlocked the car and they got in. “I tried to get him to tell me something the smell reminded him of,” Perlmutter said, “and the closest he could get was the bathroom man.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œI think he meant the cleaning service guy who does their bathrooms.”
    Marian chewed her lower lip. “Cleaning solvent?”
    â€œOr something like it. Not ammonia, because Bobby said it was kind of sweet.”
    â€œPine? Floral scent? That doesn’t really get us anywhere, though.”
    â€œNaw, the kidnapper could just have cleaned something before he went after the kid. Is that our only clue?”
    â€œLooks like it. And how reliable is a four-year-old’s memory of a new smell anyway?”
    â€œYeah. Dead end.” He changed the subject. “Lieutenant, you getting hungry?”
    She was. “Let’s fuel up before we tackle the Galloways.”
    â€œBut not in this neighborhood. They’d charge you ten bucks for a cup of coffee.”
    They found a place on Third Avenue more suited to a cop’s salary and took stools at the counter. Over grease burgers and coffee Marian told Perlmutter the substance of her talks with Rita Galloway and Alex Fairchild. “They make a pretty good case for Hugh Galloway’s being behind it. Number one, he’s tried before. Number two, he planted a spy in the household. Number three, he knew they were going to the puppet show.”
    â€œOne and three could be irrelevant,” Perlmutter pointed out. “Maybe he just wanted to spend the afternoon with Bobby the times he tried to pick him up at the preschool. And his knowing they were going to the puppet show doesn’t mean he did anything about it.”
    â€œAnd number two?”
    â€œThat’s harder to explain away. The guy’s out to get the goods on his wife, and he doesn’t seem to care how he goes about it—so he plants a spy in her house? No wonder she feels threatened.”
    â€œI wonder how much of this Bobby understands.” Marian thought of something else. “That studio. Rita Galloway has several easels in there. I thought watercolorists always worked on a flat surface.”
    Perlmutter swallowed a mouthful of cholesterol and said, “Not if they’re using drybrush technique. Very little water, so it doesn’t run down the paper. Some of those things she was working on were pretty big.”
    â€œSo easels are not unusual?”
    â€œWell, they’re not exactly usual . My brother-in-law teaches art at CUNY, and he uses an easel for large watercolors.” He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Did you take a close look at her work?”
    â€œNot really. Why?”
    â€œIt’s good. I mean, it’s good . This is no rich man’s wife looking for a hobby to