The Secrets of Harry Bright Read Online Free PDF Page A

I've already publicly offered a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for any relevant information. You have a big department, Sid. More facilities."
    "Look, most murders and most crimes in general are solved by the art of conversation, not the science of forensics. It's their town. They know who to talk to. I can't walk in there and make a case outta nothing."
    "There's an answer there. I know it! In the desert cities there're lots of unsolved murders. Maybe you can add something fresh."
    "Resort cities're transient places," the detective argued. "There could well be lots a uncleared murders. That doesn't mean the police aren't competent."
    "A fresh look at it, that's all I want from the L . A . P. D. Somebody shot my boy and burned his body. Somebody left him there for . . . Animals had gotten to him. Coyotes, skunks, buzzards, I don't know. Desert animals."
    "You really can't hope for justice after this much time's passed, Mister Watson." Sidney Blackpool succumbed and went for the Johnnie Walker Black, but he only poured two ounces this time.
    "I know, Sid. I don't want justice
    "Well, whadda you want?"
    "Revenge, of course. A sliver of revenge."
    "Revenge. And what from me?"
    "Identify the killer or killers even if you can never make an arrest. Even if there isn't proof beyond a reasonable doubt to satisfy a district attorney."
    "And what're you gonna do?"
    Victor Watson got up again and paced back and forth in front of the window. Now the sun was nearly gone and his tanned face took on the color of a bruise. He said, "I recently watched a documentary where Jane Goodall got herself in a tizzy because one of her mother apes had et one of the neighbor ape's babies. She didn't know after all her years of research that they were capable of human cruelty. Hell, that's no discovery. The real discovery'd be if the neighbor rnother'd waited for the killer to go to sleep and then bashed in her skull. That's what sets man apart from other primates. Not the crap about us being aware of our own mortality. What sets us apart is our capacity and need for revenge."
    "You wanna have the killer smoked, is that it? This is a job for Charles Bronson, not me."
    Victor Watson turned toward the detective, and now under the track light he looked like an old man. His eyes and cheeks were hollow in the shadow. He said, "Don't be silly. I'm not a criminal, but I have enough money to punish people in lots of ways. I can get my own kind of revenge without physically harming anyone."
    Suddenly a bolt of headache pain hit Sidney Blackpool like a slap shot.
    "It wouldn't make you feel better, Mister Watson," the detectivesaid, feeling clammy. His armpits were soaked.
    It won, t help his mother. She's accommodated the grief. Mothers can do it. I've tried everything: psychotherapy, religion, Zen. Nothing diminishes my rage. I just know you can help me. Intuition's made me what I am."
    "Me? I'm one a several guys working homicide at Hollywood Station. I happened to be sent over to talk to you because nobody else was handy."
    "I asked for you," Victor Watson said.
    "You asked for me?"
    "I made a few inquiries about the homicide teams. If it'd turned out Jack could be traced to our home in Bel-Air that day I would've done the same at West L . A . Station. Or Beverly Hills if he'd been seen there. I would've tried to pick the man I needed from whichever agency that could justify getting into the case."
    "And what'd your few inquiries reveal about me?"
    "You're a very good investigator and you drink Johnnie Walker Black and you play golf. I thought the golf was an omen. I belong to a country club in the desert and I can get you onto any other course you want to play. Take your clubs."
    "You think my department's gonna let me drop my workload and run to Palm Springs, just like that?"
    "Take one week from your accumulated overtime, Sid. Take your partner. I've learned that his vacation isn't up for ten more days. The two of you'll have a suite at a first-class hotel.