Scandal on Rincon Hill Read Online Free PDF Page B

he said, sinking his tall, muscular frame into the chair facing my desk.
    “And good morning to you, as well, Robert,” I said, reachingfor the paper to see what all the fuss was about. I did not have to look far. Midway down the front page appeared the headline BATTERED BODY FOUND ON RINCON HILL . Of course, I thought, the discovery Saturday night would have been too late to make the Sunday editions, and so had had to wait until this morning. I was not surprised to find that the article had been penned by my brother's nemesis, Ozzie Foldger.
    “Hmm,” I murmured. “I can't believe Samuel allowed Foldger to scoop him on this story.”
    With a pleased harrumph, Robert handed over a second newspaper, then leaned back in his seat, his intense turquoise eyes focused unblinkingly on mine. “Scooped, nothing. Your brother's account of the discovery in the San Francisco Chronicle is just as thorough, if not as sensational.”
    “There is tea in the back room,” I told him without looking up from the newspapers. “Why don't you pour yourself a cup while I read these?”
    I hurriedly scanned Foldger's piece and instantly saw what Robert was referring to. He had described Nigel Logan's unfortunate death in far more graphic detail than had Samuel. His article, along with so many lurid details, was sure to appeal to those of our citizens with a taste for the prurient, and thereby sell more copies than its competitors. It would also boost the Tattler' s well-deserved reputation as a scandal rag.
    Glancing down the column, I was dismayed to see that Samuel's rival had gone on to report that Judge Horace Woolson and his son Samuel, along with his daughter Sarah, were inexplicably present at the scene. Taking care not to say anything which might precipitate a lawsuit, Foldger nonetheless managed to convey a tone of vague suspicion, going on to point out “Miss Woolson's penchant for involving herself with the seedier elements of our fair city.”
    I felt my face grow hot as I dropped the Tattler and pushed both newspapers to the side of my desk. Looking up, I found Robert smiling at me with smug satisfaction.
    “So, I repeat, what have you gotten yourself involved in this time?”
    I regarded him evenly. “I have not become involved in anything which need concern you.”
    “Please spare me, Sarah,” he said, chuckling. “You attract murders like metal to a magnet. I can't imagine another woman in this city leaving the comfort of her bed to go out looking for bodies in the middle of the night.”
    “I did not go looking for bodies, as you so colorfully phrase it. George Lewis knew that Samuel would want to be the first reporter on the scene, and brought us there.” I shuddered, remembering poor Mr. Logan's battered corpse. “Actually, it was quite horrible.”
    “I'm sure it was.” He nodded gravely toward the newspapers. “According to Samuel and that other fellow, the police have no suspects.”
    “Sadly, that's true. The men who discovered the body claim they saw a figure scrambling up the opposite embankment. Unfortunately, it was too dark for them to describe the villain.”
    With a rather too theatrical sigh, Robert leaned back in his chair, his body language feigning indifference. “I can see that you're bursting to share all the grisly details, Sarah, so you may as well tell me the story from the beginning. The articles say the dead man carried no identification, yet the police claim to know his name, and that he taught science at the Jesuit university.”
    I rolled my eyes, but in the end gave him a brief outline of Saturday night's gruesome adventure.
    “And the men who found the body can't tell the police anything about the figure they saw running away?” he asked when I was finished.
    “No. It mightn't have even been the killer, but merely a beggar or street urchin they inadvertently frightened off.”
    “That's possible, I suppose. And your father says he'd just met this biologist fellow at a party he