“It’s good to see you,” I said politely when they were seated on the couch. “Especially on such a rotten day. How are you?”
Bobby looked at me sternly, quickly glancing away when he saw I didn’t have a bra on under my T-shirt. “I didn’t want to come here. The captain thought someone should talk to you and since I know you he thought it should be me. I didn’t agree, but he’s the captain. If you’ll answer my questions seriously and try not to be a wisenheimer, the whole thing’ll go faster and we’ll both be happy.”
“And I thought you were being social,” I said mournfully. “No, no, sorry, bad start. I’m serious as—as a traffic court judge. Ask me anything.”
“Nancy Cleghorn,” Bobby said flatly.
“That’s not a question, and I don’t have an answer. I just read in this morning’s paper that she was killed yesterday. I expect you know a lot more about it than I do.”
“Oh, yes,” he agreed heavily. “We know a great deal—that she died around six P.M. From the amount of internal bleeding, the M.E. says she was probably hit around four. We know she was thirty-six years old and had been pregnant at least once, that she ate too much high-fat food and broke her right leg as an adult. I know that a man, or a woman, with size thirteen shoes and a forty-inch stride, dragged her in a green blanket to the south end of Dead Stick Pond. The blanket was sold at a Sears store somewhere in the United States sometime between 1978 when they started making them and 1984 when they discontinued that brand. Someone else, presumably also a man, came along for the stroll but didn’t help with the dragging or dumping.”
“The lab worked overtime last night. I didn’t think they did that for your average dead citizen.”
Bobby refused to let me ride him. “There’s also a little bit I don’t know, but it’s the part that counts. I don’t have any idea who wanted her to die. But I understand you two grew up together and used to be pretty good friends.”
“And you want me to find her murderer? I would have thought you guys had the machinery to do that easier than me.”
His look would have made an academy recruit faint. “I want you to tell me.
” “I don’t know.”
“That’s not what I hear.” He glared at a point somewhere over my head.
I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about, then the messages I’d left for Nancy at SCRAP and with her mother came back to me. Those seemed like mighty small straws to build a house from.
“Let me guess,” I said brightly. “It’s not even business hours and you’ve already rounded up everyone at SCRAP and talked to them.”
McGonnigal shifted uneasily and looked at Mallory. The lieutenant nodded briefly. McGonnigal said, “I talked with a Ms. Caroline Djiak late last night. She said you advised Cleghorn on how to investigate a problem they were having with a zoning permit for a recycling plant. She said you would know who the deceased spoke to about it.”
I stared at him speechlessly. Finally I choked out, “Are those her exact words?”
McGonnigal fished in his breast pocket for a notebook. He flipped through the pages, squinting at his notes. “I didn’t take it down word for word, but that’s pretty much it,” he said at last.
“I wouldn’t call Caroline Djiak a pathological liar,” I remarked conversationally. “Just a manipulative little squirt. But even though I’m mad enough at her to go down and personally break in the back of her head, it doesn’t cheer me any you coming at me this way. I mean, we go through this every time you think I’m involved in a crime, don’t we, Lieutenant? You make a frontal assault that takes my guilty knowledge for granted.
“You could’ve started by telling me about Caroline’s never-never-land remarks and asking me if they were true. Then I would’ve told you everything that happened, which was about five minutes of conversation in Caroline’s dining room, and you could have taken off with one loose end tied up.”
I got up from the floor and headed for the kitchen. Bobby came in as I was poking around the refrigerator to see if there was anything edible I might use for breakfast. The yogurt had changed to mold and sour milk. There wasn’t any fruit, and the only bread I had left was hard enough to use for ammo.
Bobby unconsciously wrinkled his nose at the dirty dishes, but heroically refrained from commenting on them. Instead he said, “Seeing you near a murder always gets me in the gut. You know that.”