“So you’re a detective,” she said. “That must be like exciting.”

She uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them the other way. Be still my heart.

“No, it’s mostly boring routine work.”

“Well, I’m impressed. Some day you’ll have to tell me some of your stories.”

Take a deep breath. Relax. Down to business.

“Serena, I understand that you went shopping the day of the murder.”

“What day was that?” she asked.

What woman could forget the day a murder happened of which her husband had been accused? I told her the date.

“That’s too long ago. I don’t know where I was.” She flicked a bit of lint off her shoulder and looked into my eyes. Fortunately I was looking at her face at the time and not other places that were demanding my attention. She smiled. I smiled back. The gaze took longer than it should have. Then I snapped out of it and continued.

“It would be the day you went to Belksdales with Missy.”

“Oh, that day. I decided at the last minute to like go out. I was in town the whole day from when Buford got home.”

“And Missy was with you?”

“Not the whole day. She like doesn’t get up that early.”

“When did she join you?”

“For lunch. There’s this really chic little vegetarian restaurant in the town square. All kinds of, y’know, mushroom dishes and cheese soups. We ate there.”

“And you didn’t see her before that?”

“No.”

“Did you drive yourself into town?”

“No. Ramon drove me. I don’t like to drive in traffic.”

“Did he stay with you all day?”

“No, he waits in the car. And he returned here just before lunch to get Missy. After he dropped her off, I guess he was, y’know, in the car. He like picked us up later to bring us home.”

I wrote what she said in my notebook.

“Mr. Bentworth, you are going to like find out who killed that man, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to try.”

“And Buford will be y’know cleared?”

“I hope so.”

“So do I. Buford and I are true soul mates like ever since we met.”

“Where did you meet?”

“I was a dancer at a club in Philadelphia. He knew the owner who introduced us. We both knew immediately that we were y’know meant for each other. Ever since then we’ve been like two stones that pass in the night.”

She said that just as I was taking a swallow of coffee. The coffee shot out of my nose and went down my shirtfront. I grabbed a napkin and sopped it up. I suppressed my laughter and asked her to send Sanford in.

Serena’s story had sent three alibis out the window. Ramon wasn’t where he said he was. Neither was Missy. Sanford’s alibi depended on Ramon’s. And if the store receipts didn’t bear her out, Serena had nothing to back up her story either. My gut instinct was right. Always get statements from everybody even when you think you know what they’ll say. They can surprise you.

One more to go. Sanford came in. I had saved him for last. He’d be the toughest one to read.

“Sanford, where were you when the murder went down?”

“Here.”

“All day?”

“Yes.”

“Can anybody vouch for that?”

“Ramon can.”

Always let the subject know he’s been caught in a lie. His reaction to that can tell you a lot.

“That’s what he said too,” I said, watching Sanford closely. “But I’ve also been told that he drove the ladies into town that morning and was away from here until the afternoon.”

Sanford did not answer. He just sat and looked at me.

“Can you explain why he’d say that?” I asked after waiting for the response that didn’t come.

“Yes.”

“What’s the explanation?”

“The four of us need to get our stories straight.”

Another surprise. He had just admitted that their alibis were contrived to account for a period of time that none of them could account for.

His answer also revealed that he didn’t give a shit what they told me. I’m not the cops.

“By the way,” I said. “Thanks for fixing that wise guy problem I had. I owe you.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Understood. That’s about it. Could you find Mr. Overbee and ask him to come in?”

Sanford left and Buford came in, settled in a chair, and got a drink from Ramon.

“Buford,” I said, “everybody tells a different story. As near as I can tell, the only one who isn’t lying is Serena.”

“She’s too dumb to lie,” he said. “That’s what I love about her. Among other things.”

“Well, the result is that I got nothing to eliminate any of them except maybe Serena from the likely suspect list.”

“You got to crawl before you can walk,” he said. “One step at a time.” His mixed metaphors told me that my lack of success with the interrogations didn’t bother him.

“Do you have all the credit card receipts for that day? It’ll tell us whether Serena was shopping in the morning.”

“Yeah, she keeps everything.”

He got up and went out of the office. After a few minutes he came back in leafing through a handful of cash register receipts.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Not only do I have the mob and the cops on me, but Citibank is going to be coming after me too.”

I took the receipts from him and checked the time stamps. Serena was exonerated.

On the drive back to the office I went over the four interrogations in my head. What would Bill Penrod have done that I didn’t do? I tried to recall how we bounced off one another during an interrogation. I’d proceed as I had today, and then, at every inconsistency in a suspect’s story, Bill would jump in, yell at them, accuse them of the crime, and demand that they change their story and come clean or face arrest for obstruction, lying to a cop, impeding an investigation, or any one of a number of charges that he could cite or make up. He’d intimidate witnesses until they either broke down or convinced him that they didn’t do it. If they did neither, he’d fall back and let me take over again.

That’s what Bill would have done. I’m not like that. I was always the good cop. Besides, this time I was questioning the people on our side. It was a confusing dichotomy.

Chapter 25  

Ray’s Diner wouldn’t be crowded this time of day. The lunch rush was over, and dinner wasn’t for a few more hours. I stopped to get a quick burger on my way back from Buford’s. Bunny took my order without saying anything extra. That was okay with me.

I said, “The usual.”

She said, “And that would be...”

“A burger like always.”

“And how would you like it cooked?”

“Oh, knock it off, Bunny, and bring the fucking burger.”

“My, my. Testy, aren’t we?” She left to put in my order.

I sat while I waited for the burger and went over my notes, trying to figure out what the next step would be.

Perhaps Rodney’s search for other witness protection clients would provide a lead. I could only imagine how my visits to them would be received.

“Hi,” I’d say. “I understand you’re in the witness protection program.”

I’d be about as welcome as Charles Manson and his bevy of blade-slinging bitches.

Bunny brought my burger and sat down across from me, interrupting my deep thoughts. She just sat and looked at me. Then she said, “Aren’t you even going to talk to me?”

I wanted to, but Willa’s and Sammy’s advice had taken hold. This was not the time to cave in and set myself up for yet another letdown.

I took a big bite of burger, chewed it up, and swallowed. Then I took a gulp of coffee. Then I wiped my face with my napkin. Then I answered.

“I thought we already understood that you weren’t to talk to me.” I said.