The Empty Hours Read Online Free PDF

Teddy smiled, and squeezed Carella’s hand.
     
    “About
the payment,” Carella said, “for the funeral and the burial. Do you have any
idea why it took Miss Davis so long to send her check?”
     
    “Nope.
I wrote her twice. First time was just a friendly little reminder. Second time,
I made it a little stronger. Attorney friend of mine in town wrote it on his
stationery; that always impresses them. Didn’t get an answer either time.
Finally, right out of the blue, the check came, payment in full. Beats me.
Maybe she was affected by the death. Or maybe she’s always slow paying her
debts. I’m just happy the check came, that’s all. Sometimes the live ones can
give you more trouble than them who’s dead, believe me.”
     
    They
strolled down to the lake together, Carella and his wife, and ate their picnic
lunch on its shores. Carella was strangely silent. Teddy dangled her bare feet
in the water. The water, as Scoles had promised, was very cold even though it
was August. On the way back from the lake Carella asked, “Honey, would you mind
if I make one more stop?”
     
    Teddy
turned her eyes to him inquisitively.
     
    “I want
to see the chief of police here.”
     
    Teddy
frowned. The question was in her eyes, and he answered it immediately.
     
    “To
find out whether or not there were any witnesses to that drowning. Besides Claudia
Davis, I mean. From the way Scoles was talking, I get the impression that lake
was pretty deserted in June.”
     
    * * * *
     
    The chief of police was a short
man with a pot belly and big feet. He kept his feet propped up on his desk all
the while he spoke to Carella. Carella watched him and wondered why everybody
in this damned town seemed to be on vacation from an MGM movie. A row of rifles
in a locked rack was behind the chief’s desk. A host of WANTED fliers covered a
bulletin board to the right of the rack. The chief had a hole in the sole of
his left shoe.
     
    “Yep,”
he said, “there was a witness, all right.”
     
    Carella
felt a pang of disappointment. “Who?” he asked.
     
    “Fellow
fishing at the lake. Saw the whole thing. Testified before the coroner’s jury.”
     
    “What’d
he say?”
     
    “Said
he was fishing there when Josie Thompson took the boat out. Said Claudia Davis
stayed behind, on the shore. Said Miss Thompson fell overboard and went under
like a stone. Said Miss Davis jumped in the water and began swimming toward
her. Didn’t make it in time. That’s what he said.”
     
    “What
else did he say?”
     
    “Well,
he drove Miss Davis back to town in her car. 1960 Caddy convertible, I believe.
She could hardly speak. She was sobbing and mumbling and wringing her hands,
oh, in a hell of a mess. Why, we had to get the whole story out of that fishing
fellow. Wasn’t until the next day that Miss Davis could make any kind of sense.”
     
    “When
did you hold the inquest?”
     
    “Tuesday.
Day before they buried the cousin. Coroner did the dissection on Monday. We got
authorization from Miss Davis, Penal Law 2213, next of kin being charged by law
with the duty of burial may authorize dissection for the sole purpose of
ascertaining the cause of death.”
     
    “And
the coroner reported the cause of death as drowning?”
     
    “That’s
right. Said so right before the jury.”
     
    “Why’d
you have an inquest? Did you suspect something more than accidental drowning?”
     
    “Not
necessarily. But that fellow who was fishing, well, he was from the
city, too, you know. And for all we knew, him and Miss Davis could have been in
this together, you know, shoved the cousin over the side of the boat, and then
faked up a whole story, you know. They both coulda been lying in their teeth.”
     
    “Were
they?”
     
    “Not so
we could tell. You never seen anybody so grief-stricken as Miss Davis was when
the fishing fellow drove her into town. Girl would have to be a hell of an actress
to behave that way. Calmed down the next day, but you