Malarkey Read Online Free PDF

sat slowly in the chair at the end of the table. "Dead, you
say?"
    I nodded. "I called Sergeant Kennedy."
    "And you didn't wake me?"
    "Dad..."
    "Upon my word, Lark, that's the outside of enough. I may
have had a little stroke—not a serious one, mind you—but I'm not a
child or a fool. You should have called me at once. What were you
thinking of?"
    "I'm sorry," I said miserably.
    He slammed both hands on the surface of the table. "I will
not be wrapped in cotton wool."
    The display of temper was so out of character I forgot to
defend myself.
    "I beg your pardon." Dad gave Kennedy a regal half-bow.
"This is a bad business, sergeant. How may I assist you?"
    Kennedy looked from my father to me to his notebook. He
fiddled with his pen. I think he was embarrassed. "I'll need a
statement from you, sir, and from Mrs. Dodge. Sure, it's just a
formality. I've sent for Chief Detective Inspector Mahon and his
investigation team, though I may have jumped the gun. As I was after
telling Mrs. Stein, there's no sign of violence. The dead man is an
American, though, a foreign national, and the death is at least
questionable."
    "I see. Do you know who the man was?"
    "Our business manager," Barbara said glumly. "Slade
Wheeler."
    "Wheeler. I don't remember a Wheeler in your class—"
    "Alex and I met him later at Stanford," she interrupted. "You
don't know him, George."
    Dad looked relieved. "I see. I'm sorry, my dear."
    She blinked hard. "So am I."
    The telephone rang.
    Kennedy started to rise.
    I said, "I'll get it." I reached the desk by the fourth ring and
picked up the receiver. "Bedrock Cottage. Lark Dodge
speaking."
    "Who?" A male voice, tenor.
    "We're leasing the cottage. Who is this?"
    "Mike Bloody Novak. Where is everybody? I want to speak
to Barbara Stein or that prick, Slade Wheeler."
    "I'll call Barbara. Just a moment."
    The voice grumbled on.
    I set the receiver on the desk and walked to the doorway.
"Barbara, someone named Novak."
    She jumped up. "Oh god, Mike! We're supposed to be
holding a staff meeting!"
    "Convenient." Kennedy made squiggles in his notebook.
"Please tell your people Inspector Mahon and his colleagues will
want to interview them."
    Barbara said something rude under her breath.
    "I beg your pardon?" His face was bland.
    "I said when?"
    "When CDI Mahon and the boys make their way south
through the purlieus of Dublin," he murmured, dulcet, "like the
salmon itself lepping down the weirs of the Shannon."
    "Oh God, it's rush hour."
    "It is."
    She edged between Dad and me and dashed for the front
door. "And I have to meet Alex's plane."
    I said, "The telephone."
    "Tell Mike I'm on my way," she called over her
shoulder.
    Kennedy made no move to stop her. He was smiling to
himself. When I went back to the telephone Novak had hung up. I
reported that.
    The sergeant clucked his tongue. "An impatient lot, aren't
they?"
    "Like the darling nags itself gnashing at the bit," I
murmured, taking a tentative step in the direction of Kennedy's
style. "Or the hogs shoving at the swill bucket."
    Both men gaped at me, and then Sgt. Kennedy laid down his
notebook and whooped.
    When he had subsided into the occasional chuckle, I said
mildly, "I thought salmon leapt upstream. "
    "You've twigged me." He wiped his eyes on a large white
handkerchief. "I can't help it, you know. She's so sure I'm an idiot, I
have to pull her leg." He said idjit without affectation. I had been half-
convinced by his verbal imposture because the lilting accent was
genuine.
    "I'll admit Barbara's a tempting target, but your diction is
strictly ersatz."
    "By U-2 out of Cathleen ni Houlihan?" His mouth
quirked.
    "Or John Millington Synge out of Sinead O'Connor."
    My father said plaintively, "Will someone tell me what's
happening?"
    Kennedy smiled at him. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Dailey. Your
daughter caught me in a bit of unprofessional persiflage. I'll take
your statement when you're ready, and Mrs. Dodge's too, if she's
speaking to me. I'll need your passport