The Boric Acid Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

your feet still bothering you?”

    “A little.” I paused. I had so many questions for Rose, but I wasn’t sure how to phrase them and I was worried about the answers. I settled for the simplest one first. “How’s John?”
    Rose sighed. I heard a pain beyond the reach of little white pills. “They’re keeping him overnight, Gloria. I didn’t think they could do that.”
    “I didn’t either.” Rose sounded so fragile, I hesitated to ask even the most basic questions, like whether they’d retained a lawyer for John.
    “Frank called Judge Sciacchitano,” she told me. I waited for Rose to give me the stats on Sciacchitano—parish, number of children, recent deceased loved one laid to rest with Frank’s help. But this was not a normal conversation, and even the judge’s gender remained undisclosed to me.
    “So John might be home soon?” I asked in a hopeful tone.
    “Yes. He told us there was no reason John shouldn’t be allowed to come home, and he’s going to look into it.”
    Neither of us wanted to articulate the worst—that John might be detained. Surely a judge who knew the Galiganis well enough to talk to them on a weekend would work hard to get John home. I carried the phone to my window and stared across Revere Street to the gray brick tower of St. Anthony’s Church. The prayers of my youth came back to me, as if it hadn’t been decades since I’d knelt at Tuesday night novena services. Saint Anthony, our patron and our advocate, grant us what we ask of thee .
    I knew the Galiganis had no financial problems, but I made the offer anyway.
    “Thanks, Gloria. I’m sure we’ll be able to take care of it. We need you to …” Rose’s voice broke.
    “I’m already on it.”
    SATURDAY NIGHT was not a handy time to begin an investigation. Both the lab and the library would be closed until Monday morning. I wandered around my apartment, halfheartedly unpacking, uninterested in reading or television. I wondered where Matt was, and how I was going to acquire necessary
information without his formal participation. I knew he wouldn’t cross the line drawn by department canons.
    I blamed my impasse on how pitifully few friends I’d made during my year back in my hometown, leaving me no resources, no contacts. When John was cleared, I decided, I’d be more responsive to Rose’s attempts to draw me into Revere society. As if I hadn’t made that resolution before.
    If Rose and Frank could command the services of a judge on a weekend, I should be able to do some small thing off-hours. My friends are a small group, but of high quality, I told myself. I picked up the telephone and pushed Andrea Cabrini’s number.
    “Hi, Gloria. It’s great to hear from you. I knew you were coming back from California today.”
    “I got in a little while ago. I hope I’m not calling too late.”
    “Oh, no, I’m a night person. I hope you had a good time.”
    I’d met Andrea, a technician at the lab, on my first case with Matt. A friend of hers—a hydrogen researcher—had been murdered. Since then she’d attached herself to me as a kind of disciple for my work on homicide cases. She’d introduced me to scientists and engineers I needed to interview, taken me to seminars, given me the scoop on the latest in laboratory politics. Andrea was what plus-size clothing ads called a big, beautiful woman. She had fewer friends than I did, and I’d convinced myself that she really enjoyed helping me.
    I thought I’d spare Andrea the details of my harrowing ten days and wounded feet. “I have a souvenir for you,” I told her instead.
    Andrea’s delighted gasp sent a wave of guilt through me—first because I planned to exploit our friendship one more time, and second because I hadn’t even picked out her souvenir myself. At the end of my stay in Berkeley I’d taken advantage of my slight disability and talked Elaine into shopping for me, something I dreaded even with perfect soles.
    “I read the awful news about