Moonbog Read Online Free PDF

lead.”
    “But—” David started to say, but Shaw waved him silent.
    “Now I personally don’t think you are the murderer.”
    “Well, I’m glad to hear that!”
    “I mean, I don’t think anybody who’s committed a murder is gonna come wheelin’ into town the way you did last night ‘n report exactly where the body is.” Shaw forced a smile, but it was thin. “I mean, they’d have to be crazy.”
    “For sure,” David agreed, nodding his head.
    “Then again, when you think about what . . . that person did to that little boy . . . well, he pretty much for sure is crazy, right?” Shaw’s glasses had slipped down his nose, and he pushed them back-up.
    “Uh-huh.” The relief David had been feeling just a second ago was beginning to disappear.
    “Now, like I said, I sure as hell don’t think you did this. I knew you all the time you were growing up. I know you’re a decent sort of guy. But you were the first one to discover the body, and in any report, it’s gonna look kind of funny that you were out walking on the Bog that late at night.”
    “I told you,” David interrupted, “I’d seen someone run out there after ducking something—that kid—in the brush. I got curious and decided to check.”
    “It sounds okay to me, Davie, but all I’m tryin’ to say is that you, more than anyone else at the present time, are most closely associated with that kid right after he was killed. I was just suggesting that, with a toll house receipt, we could establish where you were in relation to when that kid was killed.”
    David shifted in his seat and stared down at the floor.
    “Now look,” Shaw continued, “I have a lot more typing to do, and there are some more answers I’ll need from you, so why don’t you get yourself a cup of coffee and settle down. I’ve got just a little bit more to write here and then we’ll be done—for now.”
    David grunted, stood up, and made his way over to the coffee pot. The office was again filled with the clacking of Shaw’s typing. David poured himself a cup and sat back down. The coffee was too hot at first, so he let it sit.
    “If it isn’t me,” David said suddenly, “do you think it was someone who lives here in Holland?”
    “Dunno’,” Shaw muttered, with barely a break in his typing.
    “Anyway you slice it, there’s a whacko out there.”
    Shaw nodded. David’s coffee had cooled a bit, and he took a tentative sip. It tasted just slightly better than mud.
    “There,” Shaw said, sitting back in his chair and tearing the paper from the typewriter. He placed the last sheet onto the pile he had on his desk and then shuffled them into order. “And I’ve gotta’ say that that’s about the roughest report I’ve ever filled out in all my thirty-five years on the force.” He squinted his eyes as he scanned the top page, and it looked to David as if he were fighting back tears.
    “Must be pretty tough,” David said.
    “A lot tougher on Billy Wilson’s parents, though,” Shaw replied.
    Sipping his coffee, David said, “I don’t remember anyone named Wilson living here in town. Did they move here recently?”
    “Must’ve been, oh, six years ago they moved to town. They live out on Pond Road. The father teaches English at the high school. Mother stays home.”
    “Umm.” David took another sip of coffee and decided to drink it faster now; it was starting to get cold.
    “You know, the bitch of it is finding the Wilson boy like that,” Shaw scratched his head and adjusted his glasses, “it kinda’ gets me thinking.”
    David tensed and leaned forward. “You said you didn’t think I had anything to do with it, that I—”
    “No, no, not that. It’s just that—” Shaw broke off, got up, and walked over to a filing cabinet. He tugged the top drawer open and pulled out a thick file. He riffled through until he found what he wanted, and then handed a sheaf of newspaper clippings to David.
    “What happened last night,” Shaw said, his voice