Murder My Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

crystal jar. Again, he declined. He sensed that it would not be easy to extract information from the lonely old woman. He sensed that she wanted company more than to relate what she’d seen and heard. Then he wondered if her loneliness could have influenced her recollection.
    After an exchange of pleasantries, he said, “Miss …”
    “Eileen O’Malley,” she offered.
    “O’Malley?”
    “Yes. I’m probably the only Irish woman on the block. Nothing but Italians around here.”
    Devlin did not respond and the old lady took his silence to indicate that he did not want to pursue that line of conversation. She began to reconstruct the events of the previous day. She said, “I was sipping tea on my back porch and reading the papers when I heard two sharp sounds and a lot of screaming.”
    “Where did the sounds come from,” Devlin asked.
    Pointing at the house across the yard, she said, “Over there.”
    At first she couldn’t be sure what the sounds were. She’d then heard wild yelling and screaming, more like shrieking.
    “The shrieking and screaming was horrible. It sounded like an injured animal,” she said, as she turned her head away as though to erase the memory.
    “What happened next?”
    “After a short while, I heard another noise that I’m sure was a gunshot.” Officer Devlin was busy writing down every word. He looked up.
    “Why did you think it was a gun shot?”
    “Well, my husband used to shoot skeet and I remember the sounds at the range. What I heard wasn’t a rifle shot, it was a pistol.”
    “Anything else?” Devlin asked.
    “Yes. After a longer while there was one more gunshot.”
    “So, there were four gunshots in all. Is that right?”
    “Yes.”
    Devlin looked at the lady with keen interest. He was impressed with her knowledge of firearms and the accuracy of her recollection.
    “Is that all?” he asked.
    “Yes, young man, that’s all I heard.”
    “One other thing, Ma’am, did you hear anything before the first two sounds? Did you see anyone or hear a car, or anything?’
    She thought for a moment and said no. Sergeant Devlin persisted. He wanted to know if she heard any banging or yelling before the first gunshots. Again, the old lady said no. She asked the police officer why he continued to ask all these questions. He remained impassive, then decided that it wouldn’t hurt to tell the elderly woman that they suspected the perpetrator was an individual known to the victim. The absence of noise or commotion before the first gunshots confirmed that someone inside must have opened the door for the killer. That fact seemed not to have registered with the lady. She said she didn’t know Miss Greenwell at all and certainly didn’t know who may have visited her. When Devlin asked her why she never met the lady across the yard she said, ”Well, you know, there hasn’t been anyone nice living there for a long, long time.” She thought about it and added, “I’d rather be by myself than meet up with the likes of those people.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I don’t want to judge anyone but, …” Her voice trailed off.
    “You need to tell me what you know, Miss. This is a homicide investigation.”
    “All I’ll say it that she entertains someone and it’s quite unsavory.”
    “You mean the young man?”
    “No! I mean the other woman.”
    The observation by the elderly woman was stunning. Detective Devlin thanked her and quietly left her house. He stood on her porch and tried to collect himself. His dogged canvas of the neighborhood had uncovered a major clue. The victim had a woman living with her, or at least, she had a frequent female visitor. He wondered who she might be. Did she have anything to do with the murders? How would they find her? He was pleased with himself for having uncovered so much potentially valuable information, not the least of which, the lady confirmed that four shots were fired that conformed to their initial observation of the victims. He