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

I opened the door. “That ain’t gonna happen.”

She followed me up the drive, past the garage and up to the front door, in the shade of a large green oak. I rang the bell and a few moments later the door was opened by an oddly familiar woman. She was big, with blonde hair, a tweed skirt and sensible shoes. She had on a very white blouse and a string of peals around her neck. Her face was soft and round, but her expression was hard and sharp. I guessed she was in her late fifties, but might have been older. She said:

“Well?”

“Good morning.” I didn’t bother to smile. “We are detectives from the New York Police Department. This is Detective Carmen Dehan and I am Detective John Stone.” We showed her our badges but she didn’t look at them. Her face had gone hard. I ignored her expression and went on. “We have notified the Elk Grove PD that we are here, ma’am. We are conducting some inquiries related to an investigation back in New York. Would you mind answering a few questions for us?”

“What about? I can’t imagine that I would have any information of interest to the New York Police Department.”

“Are you Mary Browne?”

“Of course I am!”

“Ms. Browne, we would like to ask you about your brother, Cyril. Could we possibly come inside?”

“Could you not have telephoned? Do you not have telephones in New York?”

I smiled a bland kind of smile. “Ms. Browne, we have traveled two and a half thousand miles to ask you a couple of questions. We won’t take up much of your time, but we would be very grateful if you would let us in.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“If this is not a convenient time, we can come back…”

“I have told you, I have nothing to say.”

I sighed. She reached for the door to slam it in my face. I spoke quietly. “We will come back with the Elk Grove PD, ma’am, in cars, with sirens, with a search warrant, and we will take you in cuffs to the station for questioning.”

Her face went like chalk and her mouth sagged. “You can’t do that! On what grounds?”

“Obstruction of justice is the least of the charges I will bring against you. Aiding and abetting a murder suspect, harboring a suspected criminal… That’s just for starters. Now, Ms. Browne, why don’t you do yourself a favor, let us in and just answer a few, simple questions.”

She stood back and held the door.

We went through to a large, open-plan room with a mezzanine floor. One wall taken up with sliding glass doors that led onto a patio and a back lawn. The floors were polished hardwood with rugs, and the chairs and the sofa were in dark leather. There was a cold, empty fireplace. Two small steps led to the higher level where there was a dining table. I looked for family photographs. There were none.

On the sofa, I noticed an embroidery basket and a hoop. Held in the hoop was a piece of white linen with an attractive and intricate peacock embroidered on it. The work was almost finished but for a few tail feathers. Pierced into the cloth, as though she had been embroidering when we called, was a small needle with a trailing red thread, knotted at the end.

I sat in an armchair without being asked. Mary’s face said she didn’t like that, but I didn’t care and my face said that. She sat at the far end of the sofa and Dehan took the other chair. I said:

“Ms. Browne, I think I had better explain the situation to you. It is important that you understand exactly what is going on here. Your brother was a suspect in the murder of Sue Benedict, twelve years ago. DNA and fingerprints were found on the victim, but no match was found in the police databases. Everybody who was at the Halloween party Sue had attended just before she was killed gave samples of DNA and their prints. None of them matched. The only person who was at the party and did not provide a sample was Cyril. Because he had vanished.”

I waited a moment to see if she would say anything. She remained immobile and silent, with her hands clasped in her lap.

“These circumstances naturally made him a suspect. However, in the last couple of days, since my partner and I have taken this case, we have come across evidence that suggests very strongly that he did not kill Sue Benedict.”

A cautious frown creased her brow. “What kind of evidence?”

I drew breath, but it was Dehan who answered. “Sue was raped by whoever killed her. Your brother had severe erectile dysfunction. He couldn’t achieve an erection even with the help of Viagra. Therefore he could not have raped her, even if he’d wanted to.”

Her expression said it was the first time in her life she had ever heard the word ‘erection’ spoke aloud. Then, as the implications of what she had been told began to sink in, her expression changed. Her eyes jerked this way and that, with little twitches of her eyebrows. I gave her a moment to assimilate the importance of what Dehan had said.

“It is still extremely important that we talk to Cyril. Apart from the killer, he may be the last person to have seen Sue Benedict alive. We believe he may well have seen the killer. Besides which, Ms. Browne, if he is innocent he needs to be cleared. He must be living in hell right now.”

She raised her eyes to meet mine. “I actually have no idea where he is, Detective Stone.”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe you.”

“I can’t help that.” She straightened her tweed skirt