The Blackmail Club Read Online Free PDF

husband took his own life, but because someone was blackmailing him, though I cannot imagine over what. To my way of thinking, that makes the blackmailer a murderer.”
    Jack put his hand on Sarah’s arm, his fingers circling to meet just above her wrist. “Whom have you told about your blackmail suspicions?”
    “Only you. I could not bring myself to tell that coarse Sergeant Suggs.”
    Sarah leaned forward and took a sandwich. Jack waited while she chewed, then watched as what she had swallowed worked its way down her withered throat. Then he asked, “What makes you think Chris was being blackmailed?”
    Sarah pinched her eyes shut, then blotted her mouth with a handkerchief curled over the tip of her index finger. “When I first met Christopher, I believed he had hung the moon just for me.” She dabbed the corners of her eyes. “I am sorry. You were asking?”
    “Why do you think blackmail?” Nora said repeating Jack’s question.
    Sarah took Nora’s hand in her left and reached over to hold Jack’s in her right. The skin on her hands was mottled. “He was a healthy, successful doctor. He planned to retire next year. We were both so looking forward to spending our twilight years traveling. Then it all changed somehow. Two months before … that day, my husband had told me that in addition to paying off our home he had accumulated a quarter of a million dollars in his safety-deposit box. I never told the police because I didn’t know how he had gotten that much cash.”
    “Did you ever see a blackmail note,” Jack asked, “or overhear a phone call from the blackmailer?”
    “No, but what other explanation could there be?” She used the fingers on her other right hand to fiddle with her wedding ring. “I went to the bank the day after that horrid Sergeant came to my home. The box was empty. That’s when I knew, knew for certain. That was why Christopher had been so moody. He had no more money to give the blackmailer, so he—” She shuddered, and then regained control. “I considered calling the sergeant, but did not. He probably would have accused my husband of losing the money gambling or running around in some inappropriate manner. I am afraid Sergeant Suggs has become very jaded from all the unsavory characters with whom he has dealt.”
    Jack heard a noise and looked up to see a young man with a thin face step through the kitchen door. He wore sunglasses and sported a neck hickey.
    “Donny Boy,” Sarah said after putting her hand to her mouth, “shame on you for neglecting your old mother.”
    The young man’s smile barely wrinkled a face smooth as polished glass. His mother made introductions.
    Jack had never met the son, and Chris had rarely spoken of him. Donny looked to be in his late thirties. He wore an open-necked green shirt, a big silver-buckled belt on designer jeans, and square toed snakeskin boots.
    Donny leaned in and gave his mother a serviceable hug and took a seat. He reeked of cologne. Sarah poured him a glass of tea, and then used a fresh napkin to absorb the drop lingering on the ledge of the spout.
    Donny’s eyes moved like lottery balls before the pick. “How do you know my mother?”
    “I knew your father for many years. I’ve been out of the country and wanted to pay my respects.”
    The young man wagged his finger. “Wait a minute, Jack McCall. I remember my father talking about you. You’re the super-spook who caught that dude last year who had bumped off some bigwigs in the government?”
    “Donny Boy, mind your manners. These people are my friends.”
    “Yes, Mother,” he said in a tone about a buck short on sincerity.
    Jack nodded politely. “Yes. I headed up that investigation.”
    After Jack answered Donny’s questions about The Third Coincidence case, the young man downed his tea and stood.
    “I gotta run, Mom. I just came by to return the shawl you left in my car after Dad’s funeral. I put it on the cedar chest at the foot of your bed.”
    He winked