Winter House Read Online Free PDF Page A

bludgeon her with it later on.
    „Maybe we can straighten out some of these loose ends,“ said Riker. „Then we’ll just pack up and get out of your life.“
    Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.
    He flipped through the pages of a small notebook, as if he might need this reminder. „You had a breakin last week. And, tonight, we find a body in your house – after another breakin. Now the ice pick next to the body – looks like he brought it with him.“
    „But I shouldn’t jump to that conclusion?“
    More pages flipped by. „Lucky guess.“ He looked up at her smiling face. „Did I mention that the guy on your rug was charged with three counts of murder? Now what are the odds that we wrap up three homicides and a breakin with minimal paperwork? You see, we almost never get this kind of happy ending. But we ‘d be willing to buy it if the guy brought that ice pick into your house. Now here’s the problem. It looks expensive. The trim is real silver.“
    „Doesn’t really go with his ensemble, does it? The torn, sweaty T-shirt and all.“
    „Where ’s your ice pick, Nedda? We checked the wet bar in the front room. No luck. Maybe you keep it in the kitchen?“
    „No idea, Detective. I rarely drink hard liquor.“
    „So you wouldn’t know if that was his ice pick or yours?“
    „It’s a mystery.“ She placed an ashtray on the table as an invitation for Riker to pull out the pack of cigarettes that he had been longing for all night.
    Remembering his manners, he first offered the pack to the lady. „You smoke?“
    She surprised him by accepting one, then bending down to his match flame. In answer to his question, she inhaled deeply and blew a perfect smoke ring. Riker found her entirely too cool for a woman with a houseful of police and a dead body on her living-room floor. He finished his iced tea, then casually perused the written statement that Nedda Winter had signed for the West Side detectives. „Ma’am? Does anybody else live in this house? I don’t see anything here about – “
    „Yes. There’s my sister. Her name is Cleo Winter-Smyth.“
    Riker’s pen hovered over his open notebook. „Is she one of those hyphenated people?“
    „I’m afraid so. My brother, Lionel, lives here, too. But tonight they’re both at the summer house in the Hamptons.“
    „Why don’t we give ‘em a call and ask where the ice pick is?“
    „You could leave a message on their machine. They never pick up the phone out there. They have privacy issues.“
    Riker turned toward the sound of heavy footsteps from the hallway. He was surprised to see the head of Forensics making a personal appearance. Heller, a great bear of a man, hovered in the doorway. A baby-faced technician stood by his side, and this was a new face. A trainee? The chief crime-scene investigator had always taken great pride in the hands-on training of his crews. This might explain his presence here tonight. The man owed none of the detectives any favors that would warrant turning out for a penny-ante burglary gone wrong.
    Heller remained in the hall as his new recruit entered the kitchen with a fingerprint kit. The younger man was shaking his head and muttering, „Why elimination prints? The perp’s dead.“
    „Just do it, kid.“ Heller’s tone conveyed that he would deal with the youngster’s attitude problem later. He turned his back and ambled away down the hall.
    The rookie opened his kit on the table, then laid out his white cards, an ink pad and a roller. When he picked up Miss Winter’s right hand, he treated it as an inanimate object. Without a word spoken, no May I? or Excuse me, ma ‘am, he bent over his work, inking her thumb, then rolling it across a small square on the card.
    Nedda Winter looked up at the young man’s face, but the technician clearly did not see her. She bowed her head in resignation, understanding that she was invisible to him, all but the fingers of her captive hand. It was a revealing moment and not the