The Silent Boy (Emma McPherson Book 1) by A.J. Flynn (early reader books .txt) 📗

tell him what little we know and he starts raising hell, I’ll feel a bit better. The good humor around here is too much for me.”

She tossed her coat up on the rack and crossed the room to the captain’s private office. Once at the door she knocked, then opened the door when she heard the call to come in.

Captain Ford sat behind his desk, looking more like a fat cat businessman than a police captain. He was a heavyweight bald man, with a rim of white hair bordering his salmon-colored scalp. Far more than one criminal had been misled by his bland, trust-inspiring appearance, only to discover too late that it covered a shrewd and quick mind.

“Take a seat, Lieutenant. You look discouraged.”

Ford shuffled through his desk papers while McPherson took her seat.

“The reports aren’t showing much progress,” Ford remarked mildly.

“That’s because there isn’t very much to report. As of right now, all we can do is carry through with some minor legwork on the tire and shoe prints. As for Charlie, the people we’ve spoken to can’t even seem to remember what he looked like, much less been given the chance to work up any animosity towards him.”

“You’ve spoken to everyone who could have been involved?”

“Just around the neighborhood. I’m planning to take a trip out to his school next. Maybe his teachers will know more about him than his neighbors. With a few of them, we spent more time consoling them than gathering information. I swear, I damn near had to hold hands with one of them.”

“Murder is a surprising and frightening thing in the lives of those sort of people. Try not to judge them too harshly,” Ford said calmly.

“If it were just fear, then I could understand it, but some of them seem to be acting like the entire thing was happening on their account,” McPherson answered, with more than a faint trace of bitterness in her voice.

Ford frowned. “Like who?”

“Well, Mrs. Fitts for one. She seems to want to run off to her mother’s for a while, so she’s seeing murderers in every nook, cranny, and shadow. She says it’s because she wants to keep her children safe, but the more I think over her behavior, the phonier it all seems. She wants to get out of town, and the boy’s death is nothing more than a convenient excuse.”

“She’s probably just childish. Who else?”

“Mrs. Johnson. According to Garrett and Fichte, she gets to shuddering and saying how horrible it all is, then the next minute asks them to sit down to a nice cup of tea and tell her all the gory details.”

“I see McGill checked out Johnson. The night man at the local car agency where Robb works said most nights he would take a trip out to Simp’s before going home. He’d been there and was shacking up with some chirpy stranger at the time of the murder. From what the boys are saying about his wife, I can’t say I blame him.”

“I knew a man once who acted like Mrs. Johnson. He was so pure and untouched he would turn the light off every time he went to the bathroom, but he knew all there was to know about the actions of other people, and he could tell you about it for hours. They eventually discovered he was a child molester.”

“Do you think this woman is off her rocker?” the captain said.

“No, but I’m willing to bet she gets her kicks out of things she knows, or imagines knowing, about other people. Makes her feel like she’s better than everybody else.”

“Who else is on the list?”

“Well, I spoke to Karl Fitts. Seems like a nice enough fellow. Crazy about his wife and kids, but he still gave his wife the devil for suggesting that if anyone in the neighborhood did it, it was Robb Johnson.”

Ford’s eyebrows rose. “She thinks he’s the one who did it?”

“He’s a woman chaser, and he drinks too much to suit her, so the way she sees it, he must be capable of going around killing people.”

Ford smiled, but said nothing.

“Mrs. Shepherd was at the Turners’, so I met with her. We didn’t talk much, but she seems fine, but Valentine is frightened to death. I don’t see why. His alibi checks out, but maybe he has some other trouble. We’re still looking into him.”

“I gotta say McPherson, you look like the kid that wasn’t invited to the party. You’ve investigated plenty of murders before. Why is this one bothering you so much?”

McPherson stayed silent for a while, then said with a slight grin, “I guess maybe because the people are so ordinary. They’re the same kind of people Liam and I have as neighbors. Average income, average house, decent reputations, yet beneath all that they’re just as vicious and greedy for their own skin as any grifter I ever met.”

Captain Ford pulled a cigar out from the humidor on his desk and clipped the butt.

“You’ve been in this job long enough to know human nature, so quit getting yourself so worked up. Take a couple shots before lunch and things will start to look better.”

McPherson grinned. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” she said as she rose up and walked to the door.

“Oh, there’s just one more thing,” Ford said. “That is, if you think your feelings can handle it.”

“I’ll try. What’s the problem?”

“Early this morning the Turner family received a series of threats against their boy. Extortion. A pay-up-or-else sort of thing. No doubt it’s a crank, but keep your eyes peeled.”

McPherson sighed heavily. “Now everyone wants to get in on the act.”

“Yup,” the Captain agreed. “Murder has a way of rousing up all the weird-o’s. So far we’ve already got two confessions. One just spent the night in the drunk tank, and the other one was living down at Goodfellow’s Mission.”

“Well, I’ll keep in touch.” And with that, McPherson walked out into the busy office space and was hailed down