Hard Case Crime: Shooting Star & Spiderweb Read Online Free PDF Page A

you, I’d hate him a lot. I might even hate him enough to—”
    She raised her head and now I was staring straight into her eyes. “You’re crazy,” she said. “Harry didn’t kill Ryan. He wouldn’t wait almost seven years. Besides, Ryan never got to first base with me. And what kind of sense would that make, putting you on the case, if he did?”
    “No sense at all,” I answered. “But you can’t be too careful.”
    “How right you are,” Daisy murmured. “And if you’d only thought of that, you might have bothered to check up on what Harry was doing the night of the murder. He was in the Mark Hopkins at San Francisco, at a conference with some of the people from Twentieth Century. And there are a dozen witnesses to testify he never left the hotel all night.”
    “Where were you?” I asked.
    “You really are a suspicious type, aren’t you?” The giggle came back again. “Just for punishment, I ought to make you look up the record yourself. But if you must know, I was at Dr. Levinson’s Clinic. I checked in at dinnertime. I was under observation that night and the next day. They almost yanked my appendix out. There are witnesses for that, too.”
    “All right,” I said. “Sorry I got so nosey. I’ll take that drink, now.”
    She crossed the room, then halted.
    “Harry’s home!”
    I heard the door slam, listened for the footsteps. Bannock stood in the doorway. Daisy ran over and put her arms around him. He stood there. She said, “Darling, we’ve missed you.” He stood there. She kissed him. He stood there.
    Daisy stepped back. “Honey, what’s the matter?”
    “Nothing,” he said. “But just before I left the office, I got a phone call. Somebody whose voice I never heard before. He told me that if I didn’t lay off the Ryan case, he’d kill me.”

Chapter Four
    The maid announced dinner. She served roast duck with wild rice, and it looked good enough to eat. None of us ate very much, though. We just sat there and stared at the table like one big happy family. Sat there and talked about the phone calls—the one Harry got and the one I got.
    For the third time Bannock said, “But who? ”
    “Think,” I suggested. “All you have to do is remember everyone you talked to about this business. Who overheard you mention you were coming to see me? Who knew you were interested in finding out about the murder?”
    “I am thinking.” Bannock sighed. “There’s the three of us. Your friend Al Thompson, in Homicide.”
    “You can check him off,” I told Bannock. “He’s not the type.”
    “But he asked you to quit the case.”
    “Of course he did. Only he didn’t know I was after anything more than a story. The question is, who does?”
    “Sarah.” Daisy gestured toward the kitchen. “She heard us talking this morning, before Harry went to the office.”
    “Really, now, Sarah’s not the type, either.” Bannock grinned.
    “What about the office, then? You tell anyone there what you planned?”
    “Not a soul.”
    “Did your girl listen when I called this afternoon?”
    “Perhaps. But you didn’t say anything that would give her a clue. Besides, we both heard a man’s voice. The same man, we must assume.”
    “Maybe he’s psychic.” Daisy smiled, then frowned. “I’m sorry. This is nothing to joke about.”
    I looked at Bannock. “Do you know Tom Trent’s voice over the phone?”
    “Yes. I’d thought of that. It wasn’t Trent.”
    “What about Joe Dean?”
    “Never met him. Do you think perhaps—?”
    “I don’t think anything perhaps.” I sat back. “We’ve got three possible courses of action, as I see it. First, we can call the police and tell them we’ve been threatened. And why.”
    “That’s out.” Bannock shook his head. “I don’t want anyone to know this. If the news got out, it would queer my deal with See-More for sure.”
    “Our second alternative,” I continued, “is to take these threats seriously and drop the