Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #4: Books 13-16 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [story read aloud .txt] 📗

who had merino wool instead of hair, rolled her eyes and said, “I wish! No! It’s public transport for us, ay, Peter?”

Peter’s eyes were firmly on the floor. “I’m afraid so.”

“I’m sharing an apartment on 116th. But poor Peter is all the way over in the Bronx.”

“We’re going that way, we’ll give you a ride. Right, Stone?”

“Sure, I’m right outside. So you guys were both in Jack’s team?”

Angie nodded her shaggy head. “Are you investigating his murder? But that was like, what…?” She looked at Peter.

He said, “October 7th, 2014. Four and a half years ago.”

“Is that like a cold case?”

I nodded. “How well did you know him?”

She looked at Peter when she answered. “He wasn’t easy to know. He was all about the work. He didn’t encourage personal conversation…”

Peter snorted. “He was loud, rude, bombastic. Everybody here reveres his memory because he was murdered, but the truth is, he was a first class jerk.”

Dehan gave a short laugh. “That’s refreshing. It’s what I’ve been picking up all day but nobody has come out and said it till now. Is that a personal grudge?”

He echoed her laugh but shook his head. “Not at all. He was a great employer, and CC is a great place to work, but he was a jerk and an ego freak.”

The doors slid back and we made our way out to the sidewalk. As we approached the car, Peter said, “Jaguars are very unreliable. Especially the older models.”

I unlocked the door. “You ever own a Jaguar?”

His glance was resentful. “No.”

We all climbed in, the cat growled and we pulled out into the stream of traffic. I jumped right in. “So it was common knowledge that Jack was having an affair?”

In the mirror I saw them glance at each other. Angie started to say, “I wouldn’t say common knowledge…”

But Peter cut in. “Yes.”

“No, Peter…”

“Come on, Angie! He used to talk to her on the phone, right there in front of us!”

Dehan glanced over her shoulder at them. “How can you be sure?”

Peter’s voice took an almost hectoring tone. “Because, even though Jack liked to put it about that he was a private, reserved kind of guy, in fact he also liked it to be known that he put it about in a different way! So we’d be having a meeting to discuss a campaign or a contract or whatever, and he would receive a call and…”

Angie sighed loudly. “Peter! You don’t know…”

“No, listen. Let me ask you something. If you were having an illicit affair, and you were in a meeting, and you really—I mean truthfully didn’t want anybody to know you were having an affair, how would you deal with the call?” He paused and nobody answered, so he went on, putting his thumb and baby finger to his ear and mouth. “‘Hello… no, I’m afraid this is not a good time. Perhaps you could call back at seven. Thank you, goodbye.’ Or would you stand up, walk away from the table and in a loud, stage whisper say, ‘Penelope! I have told you a thousand times not to call me at work!... Yes, I love you too, baby… I miss you too… Look, I’m in the middle of a meeting, I’ll call you later.’”

It was like the butler had just farted while serving the Queen her sherry. The silence was like a physical object in the car. I glanced at Angie in the mirror. “Would you agree with that, Angie? Was it like that?”

She sighed again. “Yeah, it was pretty much like that. I mean, he was a pain in the ass, but he was also brilliant at what he did, and a great boss.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “The police are not here to investigate whether he was a great boss or not, Angie…”

She cut across him. “And also there is the impact on Helena. Have you guys met Helena yet? She is such a sweet, kind, lovely woman. Everybody loves her, and what she does for underprivileged people? Man! You know her salary for teaching creative writing goes straight to charity?”

I asked her, “What impact would it have on her?”

“She was really in love with Jack. Bad enough that he was murdered like that—and being sent his head in a box? Man, that is harsh! But to know that he was cheating on her as well?”

We had come to East 116th and I pulled in opposite her apartment. Angie went to get out but Dehan turned in her seat to look at her.

“Angie? That is a sweet sentiment, but it is not a good reason to lie to the cops or suppress evidence. That’s a very serious offense. Do you understand that?” Her cheeks colored. Dehan went on. “A man was murdered, and you would have the killer go free so as not to upset the wife? I don’t think you thought that one through, did you?”

“No, I guess not… I’m sorry… I’d better go.”

She got out and we watched her hurry across the road. I did a ‘U’ and we continued on our way to the Bronx. Peter was in the mood to talk.

“You know? We get regular seminars in NLP, neuro-linguistic programming? It’s kind of gone out of fashion now, but Jack was a big advocate, and Seth is too. And one of the main points about NLP is that some people think mainly in pictures, some people think mainly in words and sounds, and some people think with their feelings. That’s Angie. Like you said, Detective Dehan, they don’t follow through and analyze the consequences and implications of that first feeling. They just allow the feeling to kind of rule them. It was crazy, Jack was killed and there was like an automatic conspiracy of silence to protect Helena.”

I frowned at him in the