The Pied Piper of Death Read Online Free PDF

startled.
    â€œI think you are probably right,” Katherine Piper said after an awkward pause, her voice strikingly different in tone.
    â€œWhether Katherine and I are polite to each other doesn’t matter,” Paula said. “Markham Swan says I’ll be dead before the month is out and that someday Bridgeway will return to dust.” She abruptly moved away from them and left the room.
    â€œShe’s in that love of death adolescent stage,” Katherine said. “Paula has unbounded admiration for a Valhalla of dead poets presided over by Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton.”
    â€œIf she’s overly obsessed by suicidal poets, perhaps she needs professional help—immediately,” Lyon said.
    â€œOh, she’s not talking about killing herself,” Katherine Piper said. “This isn’t any adolescent cry for help. She’s referring to her own demise as forecast by that philanderer Swan, who is probably using that ploy to seduce her. Excuse me, I have to find out where that nasty little man has hidden my vodka.” Before they could respond she began weaving a course through the crowd.
    â€œSpeaking of murder warnings, I haven’t noticed Markham Swan in this group, have you?” Lyon asked.
    â€œHe’s always easy to spot,” Bea said. “Just check out clumps of women surrounding a lone man. No. I haven’t seen him.”
    Lyon recalled the cryptic phone call he’d received from Swan earlier in the day. He had been working at the computer on the newest Wobbly book, They Take to the Air , when the call came in on the answering machine.
    â€œI know you can hear this, Wentworth,” Swan had said when the machine answered the phone. “Drop the damn nursery school story that you’re writing and pick up the phone because I’m talking murder here.”
    Lyon knew that Swan was aware of his phone system and would stay on the line until he answered personally. He reluctantly reached over to the machine and snicked the phone from its cradle. “Yes, Markham?”
    â€œI know Bea is coming out to Bridgeway tonight to endorse Peyton’s latest rotten scheme, and I’d like you to come.”
    â€œI wasn’t invited, Markham. I would also like to point out that I do not work for Mr. Piper. You do.”
    â€œForget the invite bit. You were a Thumper in college. That gives you the right to visit a fellow Thump at any time.”
    â€œI am not a Thumper, Markham. As I recall, you blackballed me.”
    â€œYou always were a little bit of a dork, Wentworth. I’ve never figured out if those two years in Nam as an intelligence officer or your buddying up to our gargantuan police chief warped your mind, but something sure did. I know you get your jollies from murder investigations and boy do I have one for you.”
    â€œI’ve sworn off that stuff,” Lyon said tiredly.
    â€œYou haven’t heard what I’ve got. I’ve turned up something in my work that’s screaming murder to me. The cutest member of the Piper family is going to get whacked.”
    â€œAnd the whacker told you in advance?”
    â€œNo. I figured it out.”
    â€œI thought you were writing a history of the Piper family,” Lyon said.
    â€œExactly. And I have come across a piece of pie that tells me that the kid Paula is going to get it—soon.”
    â€œI can only take so much of Peyton Piper, Markham. And I’m not in that mood today.”
    â€œHow about me? I’m living out here in this fiefdom.”
    â€œYou’re well paid,” Lyon said.
    Swan seemed to sigh, an unusual gesture for the usually self-confident man. “Come on, Wentworth. I think I’m on to something, but I need a reality check with someone I can trust and you best fill that ticket.” There was another long pause. “Please.”
    The please was a first for Markham Swan. It was Lyon’s turn to sigh. “Okay.