The House on Timber Lane, Robert F. Clifton [books to read as a couple TXT] 📗

more thing”, said Wallace as he walked into the living room and towards the front door. “Just as I thought, no slippers”, he continued.

 

Chapter Fourteen

At eight o’clock in the morning on April 21, 1974 the house on Timber Lane was inundated with uniformed police officers, plainclothes detectives, crime scene investigators and civilian workers. Wallace walked back and forth, first inside, watching technicians removing blood samples from the kitchen floor, blood samples they found after removing the linoleum away from the wall. Then, he was outside watching Fabi’s men swinging the heavy sledgehammers raising them above their heads and bringing it down sharply, each blow creating first one crack, then another. As pieces of concrete broke off of the slab they were picked up, loaded in a wheelbarrow and moved out-of-the-way. By noon what had been a smooth cement slab had disappeared. It now was a pile of broken pieces.

“That’s it Captain”, said Joe Fabi. Anything else you need?”

“No, I can’t let you dig. What I think is down there I have to protect as evidence. But, thanks a lot. You’ve been a great help. Send your bill to the city. I’ll be sure you get paid”, said Wallace.

After Fabi left O’Neil handed Stiles and Johnson a shovel. “Start digging. You two are first. When I think you’ve had enough the Captain and I will take over. Now dig.”

At three fifteen P.M. O’Neil up to his hips in a created ditch lifted a shovel full of soil and tossed it in the growing pile. As he looked down ready to dig again he stopped. “Here she is Cap. I see a foot. A foot and slipper.”

Wallace tossed his shovel and then walked to a position where he could see for himself. “Stiles, tell I.D. to come out here and take photo’s.”

“Yes sir.”

At six P.M. Captain Robert Wallace walked into the interrogation room where Doctor Vernon Gray sat with his hands in handcuffs. He looked up when Wallace walked into the room.

“Let me tell you something Wallace. This is harassment. You falsely accused me of murdering my wife and now you’ve arrested me again. Maybe you’ve never heard of double jeopardy.”

“Well Doctor. If I had Joan Applewhite available as a witness against you then you might have been convicted. But, you see, this time I have Joan Applewhite and this time she will bring evidence against you.. In a way. So her and the house on Timber Lane is just about all the evidence I need. I also have the knife you killed her with. A knife with her blood on it and your fingerprints. Do you want to know what your problem is Doctor? It’s greed. You killed two wives for their insurance money. And after you Killed Joan Applewhite you were too cheap to even file for a work permit, Vernon Gray, you are under arrest for the murder of one Joan Applewhite, Lieutenant you can read him his rights, but I don’t want to question him…I don’t need to.”

At eight o’clock P.M. Wallace poured a glass of red wine, lit a cigarette and making a call dialed a number. He listened to the ring and the voice that answered, “Hello?”

“Is this Doctor Frankenstein?”

“You simple bastard!.. What now?”

“I want you to know that I saw Joan Applewhite”

“Really?..How is she?”

“Not so good, she’s on the way to meet you.”

“Me? Why?”

“She’s Dead.”

“How?”

“Knife wounds one, maybe two pretty deep. We got the weapon.”

“Was it Gray?”

“Certainly.”

“Hey nice work Robert.”

“Thank you.”

“Now get the hell off of my telephone.” Wallace laughed as he placed the phone in the cradle.

Mary Higgins was painting her toe nails when she was interrupted be the ringing telephone. Standing with cotton placed between her toes she managed to hobble to the end table where the telephone was placed. “Hello?”, she answered.

“It seems to me, that we have a dinner date”, said Wallace.

“Hi…I’ve got the radio on. All they are talking about is the arrest of Doctor Gray…Congratulations.”

“Thank you…Now, let’s talk about the dinner date..What’s a good time for you?”

“How about tonight…I’m off for the next two nights.”

“O.K. What time do you want to eat?”

“How about seven or eight?”

“Pick one I have to make reservations.”

“Make it eight that gives me time to get ready.”

“Then eight it is. I’ll be at your place about seven fifteen.”

“Where are we going?”

“Does it matter?”

“A girl has to know how to dress.”

“The Glass Menagerie.”

“Oh…Get off the phone…I’ve got a million things to do.”

“Good by.”

At five past eight a waiter held the chair as Mary sat down. “Thank you” she said.

After he handed the menu to Mary and Robert the waiter asked, “And would you like something from the bar?”

“I’ll have a vodka and tonic”, said Mary.

“Wait”, Wallace said to the waiter. Then, turning his attention back to Mary said to her. “If you would like something that’s pretty good and different try a St. Charles Street Car.”

“What’s in it?”, asked Mary.

“Pear vodka and champagne.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Comes out of New Orleans.”

“I’ll try it.”

“And you sir?”, asked the waiter.

“Bring me a cup of coffee and an ashtray.”

“You’re not drinking?”, asked Mary.

“I seldom do, besides I’ll probably order wine for dinner.”

“I didn’t know they had performing musicians here”, said Mary.

“Yep, anything to please. Right now there’s a guy on the piano. When he takes a break three violinists play as they walk around the tables. The late diners get the dance orchestra.”

Their conversation was interrupted when the waiter brought their cocktail and coffee. “Are you ready to order sir?”, asked the waiter.

“Not quite. Give us time to look over the menu. This is the lady’s first time here”, said Wallace.

“Certainly sir.”

Mary took a sip of her drink. “Oh very tasty”, she said.

“I thought you’d like it. Do you have any idea what you would like to eat?”

“Wally, I’m a little uncomfortable. Do you see these prices?”

“Order what you want and don’t embarrass me by worrying how I’m going to pay the bill. If I couldn’t afford this place I would have taken you to some hamburger joint.”

“I’m sorry. What are you going to have?”

“Well, I’ll probably start off with a cup of the crab bisque, then the, La Plateau de Fruits de Mar.”

“What’s that?”

“Sea food. There’s twelve oysters, eight shrimp, five clams, twelve mussels, and crab”, Wallace explained.

“I think I’ll have seafood. The “court-bouillan sounds good, red fish, crab, shrimp, oyster and rice. I don’t like oysters. If you don’t mind I’ll give them to you”, Mary suggested.

When the waiter took their order Wallace said, “The lady does not prefer the oysters. Instead tell the Chef to increase the amount of shrimp.”

“Very good sir. May I ask if you would like wine this evening?”

“Yes, a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc please”

“Yes sir.”

As Wallace lit a cigarette, Mary looked at him and said, “You’re a strange guy Wally. Rough and gruff as a cop, yet well versed in the arts and music. On top of that you enjoy the finer things in life, such as fine dining. I can’t figure you out.”

“Wallace smiled and said, “Then, don’t try.”

“I also see you as a loner. I’ve asked around about you. To my knowledge you have no close friends. It seems odd when men, particularly you don’t have at least one close friend, a buddy so to speak. And, at the same time your relationships with women seems to be that after you seduce them you dump them.”

Wallace smiled. “Dump. is a very harsh word. Actually the women dump me.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Well, this is one woman that you will find extremely hard to seduce. I don’t jump in bed with just any guy.”

“I don’t recall ever asking you to jump in bed with me”, said Wallace as he took a sip of coffee.

“And, it’s just as well”, Mary replied.

“Still, you must admit that I have the right to try.”

“Oh, you can try, but you won’t succeed.”

Marty Hoffman walked up to their table. “Robert, congratulations on solving the Applewhite murder. The story is all over the television”, he said.

“Thank you Marty. May I introduce Miss Mary Higgins. Mary, meet Marty Hoffman, the owner of the Glass Menagerie.”

“Miss Higgins, it’s delightful to meet you. Is this your first time with us?”, asked Hoffman.

“Yes it is.”

“Then, I hope you enjoy your meal and do come back and visit us again.”

“Thank you, I will.”

At two o’clock in the morning, Mary Higgins opened her eyes. She instinctively looked at the alarm clock on the night stand. The red letters on the dial told her the time. Then, raising up on one elbow she turned her head and looked down at Wallace sleeping soundly beside her. She lowered her head to get a closer look at him. When she did she noticed a contented smile on his lips.

“You smug son of a bitch!”, she whispered, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

Imprint

Text: Robert F. Clifton
Editing: J. William blackmore
Publication Date: 04-03-2013

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To Kim and Erica