Читать книгу Five-minute Mysteries 5 - Ken Weber - Страница 7

1. Alone on the Beach

Tony Sanchez lowered himself to one knee beside the body, beingvery careful not to touch the footprints in the sand. There were twosets of these, one of them obviously made by the little man in thechair, the dead man. His prints were smooth, like the soles of hisexpensive dress shoes and, consistent with the weight of the man,the indentations in the sand were very shallow. Had there beenmore beach traffic, they might not have been seen at all.

“Good thing it’s off season.” The voice came from behind Tony,echoing his thoughts. “Nobody in the cabins. Snack shack’s closed.Only people on the whole beach last night were the runt here and whoever popped ’im.

”Even if he hadn’t recognized the voice instantly, Tony would haveclued in from the attitude of the speaker. Manny Silver, Tony’s temporarypartner on the Biloxi homicide squad, had several reprimands in his personnelfile citing his disrespect for victims of crime and their survivors. Asfar as Tony was concerned, in the two months they had worked together,there had been no evidence of moderation in Silver’s style.

Tony got to his feet slowly and turned right around so he couldlook his partner full in the face.

“I know this man,” he said.

“You know the … the vic?”

Manny was genuinely surprised. Biloxi’sterritory was not a large one but this didn’t happen often for, as inmost tourist areas, a large percentage of the population was transient.

“A friend of yours?” Manny was backpedaling. Tony was not onlyhis senior and two grades up in rank, he had a reputation as a completelyno-nonsense cop.

“He lives in my building and no, he’s not a friend but I know him. Everybody in the building knows him — knew him. He wasdifferent. Not odd really but, well, unusual. Hard to miss.

”Manny sensed an opportunity for a fresh start. “Yea, that’s for sure!” He moved around to the other side of the large wooden beachchair that seemed so far out of proportion to the man it held. “I mean, how many people do you know that walk on the beach witha fancy cane? And Oxfords? But then come to think of it, if youwear a vest and a whaddayacallit — cravat? — and a suit, you’re no tjust another dude, you’re … you’re … well, let’s face it, Tony, you gotta be just a bit strange!”

Tony didn’t respond but instead angled himself farther from thevictim, keeping to the same side of the chair. From the new position he had a clearer front view of the dead man. Were it not for the bullethole in his chest — and the clothes — the little man might havepassed for just another tourist walking the beach who sat down fora rest and fell asleep. But there were too many factors slicing throughthat impression, the most striking of which was the blood and thewood splinters on the sand behind the chair. It struck Tony as morethan a bit ironic, almost — he hated to think it: appropriate — that this meticulously dressed man would be shot by someone using acarefully chosen bullet that barely disturbed his appearance on entering the chest, but blew a mighty exit hole on the way out, takingchunks of the chair back with it.He finally spoke. “We called him Mr. Micawber, the people in ourbuilding did. Partly it was the little tummy sticking out and himbeing so short. See how the footprints come up to the chair andwhen he sits his feet don’t touch the ground?”“Yea, looks like he died without ever getting out of the chairagain.”Tony didn’t seem to be aware of the interruption. “And the formaldress. He always wore a three-piece suit, starched collars, a hatand cane. Come to think of it, I don’t see a hat anywhere. We’ve gotto check into that. May be something to it.”Manny Silver rotated a full circle. “Yea, no hat anywhere I can see.So was this Mick-whatever — he’s Irish or something, is he? — washe in the habit of walking on the beach this early in the morning?”“I don’t know if he’s Irish or not. It’s not Mick in that sense. Mr.Micawber was a character in David Copperfield.”“This guy worked for Copperfield? The magician?”Tony was silent as he contemplated his response. “The novel byCharles Dickens,” he said finally. “In David Copperfield there’s a popularcharacter who always dressed up like he was well off, even whenhe wasn’t.”If Manny was even slightly embarrassed by the gap in his literarybackground, he concealed it admirably. “So could be our vic herewas hard up. Closet gambler maybe with big debts? Might be amotive there.”“I have no idea at all about his finances,” Tony replied. “All Iknow is what I’ve told you. Except that the women all thought hewas wonderful.”“Aw, women always like short guys, ’specially when they’re old.Means they’re sure to be harmless.”“No, that’s not it. It’s because he was so polite. A total gentleman inevery way. My wi … my ex always used to say he should give lessons.”“Awright, so we got mister supermanners with the weird clothesgoes for a walk on the beach and gets himself blown away by…”Manny went down on one knee just as Tony had on the other sideof the chair. “He gets himself blown away by somebody wearing —uh, wearing...” He bent over to the second set of footprints that ledto the chair, leaning so close to them that his nose almost touched.“Wearing a pair of ladies’ New Balance, 71⁄2 double D, I’d say.”Manny stood and grinned at the expression on Tony’s face. “Iused to work in a shoe store. You get good at the sizes in a hurry.”He put his hands on his hips. “So. My take is the vic, Mr. Micawber,is out for his constitutional. Very early morning. Beach is deserted.He sits in the chair here and Ms. New Balance, 71⁄2 double D, walksup — you can see where she stands and shifts a bit — puts onethrough the vest and then walks away. Just one, two, three, likethat. You agree?”Tony nodded, paused, and then nodded again. “Except for onething,” he said. “I say the shooter was a guy.”Manny frowned. “Yea? What makes you say that?”

What makes Tony Sanchez say that?

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