Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #4: Books 13-16 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (best ereader for academics .txt) 📕

both elbows on the table. “OK, so two months earlier, late August, he hands in his notice at work and to his landlord, and because of that we have assumed that this meant he intended to vanish. But actually, when you think about it, it does not, in itself, mean he was planning to disappear from New York at all. He might have been moving next door. He might have been offered a better job and was planning to move up the road, or to Brooklyn.”

“OK…”

“So his notice could well be totally unrelated to his disappearance.”

“What are you driving at?”

She took a bite of her croissant and sat chewing for a moment. “Suppose Giorgio and Fernando have been trying to get into Sue’s pants for some time, they both implied as much, but Sue, despite being a flirt, is, as her neighbor Bob Smith said, at heart a good, decent, girl next door. We only have Giorgio and Fernando’s word for it that she was a tease, and for how she was behaving at the party.”

“True.”

“So let’s imagine for a moment a different scenario. Fernando has been encouraging Sue and Cyril to talk to each other, telling her to sit on his lap, yadda yadda. He’s doing this because he thinks it’s funny, he’s getting a laugh out of Cyril: the more Cyril humiliates himself, the better Fernando looks and feels. But, to his surprise, it has the opposite effect of what he expects. Why? Because Sue is in fact, like Bob said, a nice person. And so is Cyril, and when they are pushed together they actually start to like each other and become friends. Plus, Fernando and Giorgio are getting on her nerves and Cyril is actually nice to her.” She paused. “I know it’s a lot of speculation, but stay with me, ’cause it’s all we have right now. So, at two o’clock that morning, Sue is a bit drunk, but really, basically, she’s had enough of Giorgio and Fernando coming on to her and she just wants to go home. So she leaves. Fernando goes after her, determined he is going to sleep with her that night. She tells him to take a hike. No means no. OK so far?”

“Yeah, as you say, a lot of speculation, but it’s making sense.”

“So she goes home to her apartment. With Sue gone, Cyril has no reason to stay at the party. So he leaves too, but on the way home he passes by her place to check she’s OK. Meanwhile, Fernando has gone back to Giorgio to report on his failure. They are both drunk, maybe stoned, and they decide they have had enough of Sue, and what they see as her ‘prick-teasing’. Remember, they both described her in so many words as a prick-tease. Tonight they are going to have her whether she likes it or not.”

“Hmm… It’s feasible.”

“Shut up. Listen. When they get there, they find that not only has she rejected them but, to add insult to injury, she is with the nerd. This is too much for their narcissistic egos, they get real mad and they kill her. Cyril freaks, panics, and runs. Nothing to do with handing in his notice.”

“It’s good, but it has a major flaw, Dehan.”

“I know, the semen. The DNA. But there might be an explanation for that.”

“I think I know…”

“Shut up, listen, give me my moment. If his erectile dysfunction was emotional—not a physical condition—and Xara was actually having a therapeutic effect on him, like he said, Sue might actually have aroused him. If he was in love with her, and she was sweet and nice to him, maybe they actually got it on. It wasn’t rape at all.”

“Wow, that is one hell of a theory, Dehan.”

She nodded, using her whole body, and stuffed the last of her almond croissant in her mouth. “I rike idge. I’ burksh fo me.”

“You like it and it works for you.”

“Mm-hm.”

I thought about it, turned it over in my mind, looking at the angles. Finally I said, “Well, if we are going to prove it, we need Cyril Browne more than ever. Let’s go report to the chief and book them tickets. I also want him to run a check on Giorgio and Fernando, see if they have any priors out of state.”

“No road trip?” she said, licking her fingers and draining her cup.

“Not this time, ritoo glasshopper. This time we fly.”

Eight

We touched down at Sacramento Mather Airport at ten past ten that night. It was cold as we stepped out into the parking lot, but it wasn’t freezing and it wasn’t sleeting. That was a relief. From there it was a twenty minute drive, in an Avis hire car, west along the Lincoln Highway and then south on Watt Avenue, to Elk Grove, where Dehan had booked us into the Holiday Inn on Laguna Boulevard. By the time we had unpacked and hung up our clothes, it was eleven PM, two in the morning in New York. We were spent, so we had a drink from the mini-bar and hit the sack.

Next morning at eight we had a soulless breakfast of bagels and coffee in a soulless breakfast room; but after that we stepped out into bright sunshine, climbed in the car and rolled down the windows for a pleasant two-mile drive to Cyril’s sister’s house, on Kilconnell Drive. According to the file, her name was Mary Browne and she lived on her own opposite the elementary school where she taught. We hadn’t called to let her know we were coming because we wanted to surprise her.

Kilconnell Drive is a very pleasant road, with attractive houses, broad, green lawns and an abundance of trees. We pulled up outside Mary Browne’s house and I checked my watch. It was ten minutes before nine. I looked at