Warshawski 09 - Hard Time Read Online Free PDF Page A

are trying to dress it up as a Good Samaritan act?”
    “Uh, Doug, why don’t we talk to the passenger. Get some confirmation of Ms. Warshki’s—sorry, ma’am, what is it? Warshouski?—anyway, of her story.”
    “She took so long answering the door, she was probably calling to feed the other woman her lines,” Lemour grumbled.
    “You can talk to Ms. Neely,” I said, “but the officers on the scene took a complete report last night. They even breathalyzed me. Why don’t you look at that?”
    Palgrave’s face became more wooden. “Uh, ma’am, did your passenger witness the breathalyzing? Because we were told it didn’t take place, that you refused.”
    I stared at him. “I signed that report, and it included a statement that I had not been drinking. Let me see it.”
    Palgrave shifted uncomfortably and said they didn’t have the report with them. Lemour was all in favor of arresting me for manslaughter on the spot; I was trying to weasel out of a DUI charge, he said. Palgrave told him to tone it down and asked if it was really true that Mary Louise was a ten–year veteran with the force.
    “Yes, indeed. You can talk to Bobby Mallory—Lieutenant Mallory—at the Central District. She was under his command for quite a few years,” I said. “I’ll get him on the phone for you now. Or Terry Finchley. He was her immediate superior.”
    “That won’t be necessary, ma’am,” Palgrave said. “We’ll talk to this Neely woman, but if she witnessed your—uh—breathalyzing that’s probably good enough. To be on the safe side, we’ll take a look at your car, make sure it wasn’t involved in the accident.”
    “Who is the woman I stopped for, anyway?” I demanded. “Why does it matter so much to find someone to take the fall for her injuries?”
    “We’re not trying to make you take a fall,” Palgrave said. “She’s an accident victim and you were on the scene.”
    “Come on, Detective,” I said. “I happened on the scene after someone left her lying in the road. I didn’t put her there, didn’t hit her, didn’t do anything but wreck my car swerving to miss her.”
    “In that case a look at your car will get us out of your hair,” Palgrave said. “We’ll tow it to the police lab and get back to you about when you can pick it up. Where is it now?”
    “It wasn’t drivable. It’s where the accident took place—you can look up the address on the report when you get back to the station.”
    That made Lemour start to boil over, but Palgrave calmed him down once more. When they finally left I felt limp. Who could the woman be to merit this much aggravation? But I couldn’t worry about that until I dealt with my car. If the cops were determined to find a perpetrator, I wanted the Trans Am to have a clean bill of health before it got into police hands.
    I called the mechanic I go to when I have no other choice. Luke Edwards is one of the few guys out there who still knows what a carburetor does, but he’s so depressing I try to avoid him. He came to the phone now with his usual drooping tones. He identifies so totally with machines that it’s hard for him to talk to people, but our relations have been particularly strained since a car of his I borrowed got totaled by a semi. Before I could finish explaining what I needed, Luke cut me off, saying he didn’t want to hear my tale of woe, he’d known since I trashed the Impala that I couldn’t be trusted behind the wheel.
    “I spent three months getting every bearing on that engine purring in unison. I’m not surprised you wrecked your Trans Am. You don’t know how to look after a car.”
    “Luke, forget that for a minute. I want a private lab to inspect my car and certify that it didn’t hit a person. I’m not asking you to work on it today, just to tell me the name of a good private lab.”
    “Everyone thinks they come first, Warshawski. You gotta wait in line along with all the working stiffs.”
    I tried not to scream. “Luke, I