The Alpine Menace Read Online Free PDF Page A

couldn't hold down a job.”
    “Yes, I can understand her point of view,” Vida conceded. “But it's only for a short time, and it might do some good. Haven't we managed in the past to help solve a crime or two?”
    “It comes with the job,” I allowed.
    “Of course it does.” Vida adjusted her glasses. “You go ahead and make the arrangements. You know the city.” She gave an almost imperceptible shudder. “A nice, clean motel. Perhaps with cooking facilities. That will cut down on our expenses.”
    The truth was that if I were going to spend a weekend in Seattle, I would have preferred a four-star hotel with room service and an honor bar. But that was out of my price range. Dutifully, stupidly, resignedly, I went into my office and got out the Yellow Pages for Seattle. It took seven phone calls before I found a vacancy at the bottom of Queen Anne Hill. It was close to downtown, and not that far from the neighborhood north of the ship canal where Ronnie had lived with Carol.
    “I'll pick you up at four,” I told Vida. “I'm leaving here at two to pack, then I'm going to St. Mildred's for Good Friday services at three.”
    Vida, looking satisfied, smiled. “I'll be ready.”
    I wasn't so sure I'd be.
    Traffic was heavy all the way into Seattle. The Friday commute was worsened by the holiday weekend, whichprevented us from getting to our motel until after six. It was too late to visit Ronnie, so I called the jail to leave a message that I'd see him in the morning.
    “Maybe,” the detached voice at the other end of the line said, “Mallett will be out of the infirmary by then.”
    “Why's he in the infirmary?” I asked, unexpected concern surfacing.
    “I can't tell you that,” responded the voice, which could have belonged to either sex.
    “I'm a… close relative.” I gulped on the phrase. “A first cousin. At least tell me if he's sick or if he got injured.”
    “It's not serious. He'll heal.”
    That was all I could get out of the voice, so I hung up and told Vida, who'd been hanging over my shoulder. “Somebody may have punched him out,” I said. “Or worse. Poor Ronnie.”
    “Indeed,” Vida replied. “Jail can be a nasty place, especially in big cities. I don't imagine Ronnie's cellmates are particularly civilized.”
    “Damn,” I swore, ignoring Vida's disapproving glance. “Now I actually feel sorry for the poor twerp.”
    “Of course you do,” Vida responded. “He's family. Tsk, tsk.”
    “Vida—” I began, but stopped. She was right. I must have felt some kind of connection or I wouldn't have felt the surge of guilt.
    “Where's an inexpensive restaurant close by?” Vida asked, glancing out the window at the Space Needle.
    I considered. “There's a place out on Phinney Ridge that's quite good and reasonable. We could swing by Ronnie's apartment house. I got the address from him the other day. It isn't far from the restaurant.”
    Not wanting to lose the daylight, we headed for the apartment first. It was about three blocks from the neighborhood's business district, an unprepossessing two-story brick-faced building with eight units.
    Half of the uncovered parking places in back were empty. A large, overflowing Dumpster stood next to the building, along with several garbage cans. There was no yard as such, just overgrown blackberry bushes, ferns, and weeds. Vida shook her head in disapproval.
    “No pride,” she declared. “Wouldn't you think they'd band together and have a work party? Some nice perennials, a few bulbs. What's wrong with city people?”
    Since many Alpine residents considered a rusted-out pickup as garden statuary, I didn't comment. We walked around to the front, where stairs led up both sides to the second-floor balcony.
    “Ronnie is downstairs, in 1-B,” I said, studying the mailboxes. “Here, only Carol's name is on the box.”
    Vida was already at the picture window next to the door marked 1-B. The drapes were pulled, but didn't quite meet. “I don't see