The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33 by Nic Saint (interesting novels in english txt) 📕

techniques won’t work on me, buddy boy!” she shouted. “I know my rights!”

Well, actually she didn’t, but at least she knew from watching a ton of Perry Mason shows that it’s always better not to talk to the cops.

One room over, in interview room number two, Alec Lip was interviewing Scarlett Canyon. Scarlett wasn’t entirely at ease. Not that she hadn’t been arrested before, because she had, but it still wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she enjoyed as a pastime.

“For the last time, Scarlett,” said Alec, tapping the table with impatient fingers. “What were you doing with those jerrycans? And is it true you found them at Joshua Curtis’s place?”

“Who told you that!” she snapped, then realized she probably shouldn’t have said that. In her defense, though, she wasn’t exactly a pro at this kind of stuff.

“Look, we’ve got my mother in the next room, and right now she’s probably singing like a canary.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Why? She knows what’s good for her.”

“No, I mean, Vesta can’t sing. So I know you’re lying to me right now, Alec Lip,” she added, wiggling a reproachful finger in the man’s face.

Alec had the decency to wince a little. He probably didn’t enjoy raking his mom’s best friend over the coals any more than she enjoyed the process of being raked.

Just then, the door opened and Chase stuck his head in. He bent over Alec, and the two men engaged in a whispered conversation that lasted a couple of minutes. Then Alec nodded, and Chase departed.

“Just as I thought,” he said. “Vesta is laying it all out for us. Telling the whole story A to Z. Which makes things really difficult for you, Scarlett, I can promise you that.”

“What do you mean?”

“She just told my deputy that you’re the one who found those jerrycans in Joshua Curtis’s garage and that you suggested planting them in that tool shed.”

“That’s a lie!” Scarlett cried.

“Well, that’s what she says. We explained to her exactly what I just explained to you: that only one of you is going to be offered this deal of immunity in exchange for a full confession. Looks like Vesta beat you to it.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “Can I think about it?”

Alec slammed his fist on the table. “Thinking time is over, Scarlett! It’s now or never! Think on your feet!”

“You’re making me very nervous, Alec!” she cried. “And I don’t like it when people make me nervous. I get very upset when that happens, and when I get upset I start screaming!”

Alec’s face sagged. “Not the screaming,” he said. “Please not the screaming.”

“I can feel it coming up!” Scarlett warned.

“Please, have mercy,” said Alec.

Chase had left the room and now returned. Trickery, Vesta understood. Mind games these cops liked to play. But she wasn’t going to be fooled by this nonsense. “I want a cup of coffee,” she said the moment the burly cop rejoined the interview.

“You can’t have one,” Chase grunted as he took a seat again.

“I know my rights! I want a cup of coffee!”

“You can have your coffee, but you gotta give me something in return.”

“I’m going to file charges against you, Chase Kingsley!”

“Who with?”

“Your wife!”

Chase blanched a little, but held his own. “I have to say, Vesta. I thought you were smarter.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Alec told me you’re the smartest of the two of you, but so far it looks like it’s Scarlett who’s winning the race.”

“What are you talking about? What race?”

“I told you at the start of this interview how only one of you will be offered a deal. Talk in exchange for immunity. Looks like Scarlett is about to win the big prize. She’s singing like a canary in there,” he added, jerking his thumb in the direction of the wall, behind which presumably Scarlett was holed up, also being interviewed.

“Ha ha ha,” said Vesta.

“What’s so funny?”

“You! Everybody knows Scarlett can’t sing.”

“Well, she’s singing right now, spilling the beans. She claims that you stole those jerrycans from Joshua Curtis’s garage, after you broke into the guy’s house. She also claims that it was your idea to plant those jerrycans in that tool shed, trying to put the blame for those killings on the Dibbles. What do you have to say to that?”

Suddenly a loud scream came from the next room, and Vesta cried, “Is that what you call singing like a canary? You’re torturing her, you brute! This is an outrage!”

Chase swallowed away a lump, and just then a knock sounded at the door and Alec strode in. He bent over Chase and started whispering something into his ear.

“What are you two whispering about?” Vesta demanded, but received no response. “Hey, I asked you a question, Alec. You can’t do this to me, you know. You can’t do this to your little old mother. There are laws against this kind of thing.” She suddenly grabbed for her heart. “Owowow,” she said. “I just felt a stinging pain in my chest. Ouchie-ouch. Yeah, I think it’s my heart. You better call a doctor. And you better start recording my last words, for this is it. When they find my body, you’ll be the ones being hauled in front of a jury, who’ll wanna know who would treat their feeble old mother like this.”

Unfortunately for her the two men blithely ignored her long lament, and then Alec left and Chase stared at her like a cat who’s about to eat a canary—the one that had just started singing, presumably.

“What?” said Vesta. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’ve done it now, Vesta.”

“What have I done now?”

“The Chief just told me it’s in the bag.”

“What’s in the bag?”

“The deal! Scarlett just signed a document granting her full immunity in exchange for her confession, and she’s put all the blame squarely on you.” And to emphasize his words, he poked a finger in Vesta’s direction.

“She did what?!”

“She talked! Said this was all your idea!”

“No, she didn’t!”

“Oh, yes, she did.”

“Look, it may have been my idea,”