La Danza Morte' by Robert F. Clifton (e reader txt) 📖

making a mistake that will result in a law suite,” Said Ackerman.

“Time.? You mention time. It's going on eight weeks and you and your squad have produced nothing except reports on a ream of paper that tells me nothing. Are you the lead detective in this case?”, asked Connors looking at Wallace.

“Yes sir.”

“And just what do you have to say?”,asked the Chief.

“Sergeant Ackerman more or less told you what's going on with the case. As for me, I'm still waiting for lab reports and fingerprint identification to come in from the F.B.I. Once we have those hopefully we can then proceed in the investigation. Maybe, you as Chief can get the Federal Bureau Of Investigation

to kindly answer our requests,” said Wallace sarcastically.

“Be careful Wallace. I don't like your attitude. You're on the brink of insubordination.,” said the Chief.

At three pm on a Friday afternoon the telephone on Wallace's desk rang. He answered it, “Major Crime Squad, Detective Wallace.”

“Doctor Edwards here. I'm taking you up on your invitation to go fishing. I purchased that bamboo stick you suggested. Now what?”

“What test line did you attach to it?”asked Wallace.

“None yet. I was thinking twenty pound test should do the job.”

“No, you should go with fifty pound test.”

“Fifty? Just how big do these Tautog get?”

“The line test is not for the fish. It's in case you get snagged around the jetty rocks. Fifty pound allows you to muscle out of a snag.”

“I see. Anyway, just when in hell are we going to fish?” asked the pathologist.

“Wait a minute. Let me look at the tide chart.” Wallace opened the center desk drawer and removed the tide chart for the county. “The outgoing tide tomorrow is around nine in the morning. If you can be ready at eight, I''ll take a look at your rig and if everything goes right we can be on the jetty just when the tide changes.”

“I'll be ready. Do you know where I live?”

“Yes.”

The next morning Doctor Manfred Edwards stood on the beach and watched Robert Wallace who rested on one, wet, knee as he dug sand fleas out of the wet sand. One by one as he caught them he dropped them into a bucket that contained three inches of wet sand. As the small crustaceans dropped into the bucket they quickly dug their way to the bottom of the bucket sand hiding out of sight. When he had approximately three dozen that would be used for bait he stood up and said, “Well, that takes care of the bait. Now, let's head for the rocks.”.

“You call those things sand fleas” They don't look like a flea to me”, said Edwards.

“Actually, they're Mole Crabs, but most people call them “sand fleas”. They're the best bait for Tog,” Wallace explained.

“We'll see”, Edwards uttered as he climbed upon the rock jetty that jutted out into the ocean inlet. “How come you're not going to fish?” asked the doctor.

“I'm acting as your guide. Besides, I've been catching Tog ever since I was a kid. Like I've told you. They hit hard and fight hard, but in order to eat them it's recommended that you skin them and boil them. Some call them the poor man's lobster. Anyway, I usually just caught them and threw them back into the water.”

“And you're sure this old spark plug is heavy enough to get my baited hook down to where their feeding?”

“Certainly.”

“Well, if you say so. Here goes nothing', said Edwards as he swung the line out into the water. Thirty seconds after his cast a fish struck, taking the bait and began fighting hard to both dispel the hook in its mouth and get off of the line that was gradually pulling it to the surface.

“Son of a bitch!”, said Edwards with a large grin on his face.

By noon that day Doctor Edwards had caught twelve fish each one averaging one to three pounds. On the advice of Wallace he tossed each one back into the water.

As they walked back to the Ford, Granada Edwards said,

“Well, you know your fishing spots. Thank you. I had a nice time. I hope we can do it again some time. Now, after you get me home how about staying for a sandwich and beer?”

“I'll take a sandwich with a cup of coffee?,” Wallace replied.

“I use instant”, said Doc Edwards.

“No problem.”

Shortly after arriving at the home of Doctor Manfred Edwards the pathologist filled a tea kettle half full with water and placed it on a high flame burner of the gas stove. He then went to the cupboard, then the refrigerator and returned to the table where Wallace sat patiently. “Your water will be ready in a couple of minutes”, he said to Robert.

“I'm in no hurry. Sit down and enjoy your beer,” Wallace replied.

“I think I will, now that you mentioned it. How's your investigation going?”

“Right now it's at a dead end.”

“Any suspects?”

“More than I need. Do you have anything to add since your examination of the body?”

“No, the cause of death is still an overdose of dioxin or if you prefer, Lanoxin. Shit! I no sooner sit down and the damn kettle starts to whistle,” said Edwards as he got up from the table.

Wallace twisted the cap off of the jar of instant coffee and took a teaspoon full, placing the granule’s in a coffee cup. He then moved out of the way of Edwards who filled the cup with hot water. “Do you take cream? The sugar is right here on the table.”

“No, black is fine. I could use a couple slices of bread.”

“Oh, yeah, here. There's ham and cheese also bologna. Do you want mustard?”

“I could use some.”

“Sure, make me get up again.”

“Hey, you mentioned mustard.”

“Just means I got a big mouth. Here”, said Edwards as he sat down again. “So, to continue our conversation about your investigation, lately it seems the press has been on the police departments ass, saying that nothing either is or has been done.

What do you say about that?”

“Not too much. I don't think too highly when it comes to newspaper reporters.”

“But, you yourself just said that your investigation is at a stand still.”

“Agreed, but I said it to you. That information is not for the public.”

“Well, I hope something turns up for you.”

“Thanks.”

Later, Wallace walked through the front entrance doors of the condominium complex. Andy Maclin, the door man greeted him. “Mr. Wallace. There was a man here this morning trying to get upstairs to your unit. I told him that you weren't in and that no one was on the list of visitors for you. He refused to give me his name and still insisted that he was going upstairs. I had to threaten him, telling him that f he didn't leave, I'd call the police. He finally left. I hope I did the right thing.”

“You did Andy. What did this guy look like?”

“A white guy, about thirty years old, maybe five foot nine or ten. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes. He was also kind of thin, wiry like. He was wearing a blue windbreaker, blue jeans and white athletic shoes.”

“That doesn't sound like anyone I know. Good job. If he comes back buzz me”.

“Yes sir.”

Wallace took the elevator to the sixth floor, stepped out and walked to his front door and unlocked it. Once inside he walked into his combination den and living room. Natasha came to him and on tip toe kissed him on the lips. “Did your doctor friend catch any fish?”, she asked.

“Yeah, I think he enjoyed himself. He caught about twelve fish.”

“Oh, good.”

“Listen, Andy, the doorman stopped me on my way in and told me that some guy was trying to get up here to this unit. He said the guys was white, thin and about thirty years old. Did you hear anything in the hallways or fire escape?”

Natasha began shaking. “No, no, I haven't seen or heard anything”. she said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

“Why are you shaking?”,asked Wallace.

“Cold. It's cold in here,” she answered.

“If you say so. What have you been doing all morning?”,he asked.

“Mostly resting. I want to be at my best tonight.”

“Is it still going on at eight o'clock?”

“Yes and I want you to be backstage tonight. I promise I'll change quickly and we can come home?”

“Why the sudden change? I always wait for you at the elevator that goes down to the garage.”

“I want you to watch me dance. You'll be my good luck charm.”

“You don't need luck. You're good and you know it.”

“Robert I want you back stage. Tell me that you'll be back stage.”

“Alright. If it means that much to you I'll be there, but I still have the feeling that you're hiding something from me.”

That evening Wallace stood near one wing of the stage in a place where he could see the show and in particular Natasha. She stood next to Margaret Helms. She took a sip of water and then turned her head looking for Robert. When she saw him she waved. Robert gave her a thumbs up and when the musical cue came she danced out onto the stage on her toes. As usual she wore the pink dress and as usual she moved with a delicate grace. Up on tip toes she danced slowly, each step in time with the violin that was providing the music for this part of her choreography.

Robert took his eyes off of Natasha and focused on Viktor. It appeared that Viktor Baranovsky was very happy at this point in the act because he had a large smile on his face. Satisfied that she was doing well, Wallace decided to leave the area and have a cigarette. He turned and left the stage area and entered the hallway containing the dressing rooms. When he did he saw a figure near Natasha's room. “Hey! Hold it! Police!”, he said in a loud voice. The figure now seen by Wallace as a man, stopped.

“I'm the janitor. I just wanted to see if the trash needed emptying”, said the man.

Oh. It's you, Lou Crawford. Now I recognize you.”

“Yeah, that's me. Hey, did you find what you were looking for in the dumpster?”

“Yes I did. I want to thank you for telling me about where the trash was kept until collection day,” said Wallace.

“Glad to help. Well, nice seeing you again. I've got work to do. See you're still smoking in the hallway. I won't tell anyone.”

Wallace lit a cigarette and as he smoked it he heard the violin tempo increase and now familiar with the ballet and the accompanying music he knew that at that moment Natasha was dancing on her toes and was about to do a pirouette. “No wonder her feet hurt at times”, he thought to himself. He walked back and into the stage wing just in time to hear the thunderous applause given to her by the audience.

On the ride home Wallace looked over at her and asked, “Are you tired?”

“Yes, but it's a god tired, if you know what I mean,” she replied.

“I know the feeling. It's as if you put everything you had into whatever you were doing and ended up with good results, so the effort was worth it.”

“Did you like the performance?”, she asked.

“Certainly. Mostly I liked the ballerina. Are you hungry? We can go someplace if you want.”

“I want to go home, change into just panties and a sweat shirt, sip a small glass of wine, snuggle together on the couch and ask you if you love me.”

“You have to ask?”

“Not really, but I like it when you say it.”

“And, my reward for loving you is having you leave for Pittsburgh.”

“Now don't start Robert. It's no different then if I was someone in a profession that necessitated traveling and being away from home for long periods at a time. Just because I'll be away doesn’t mean I'm not thinking of you, worrying about you, hoping your safe out there on the street.”

“Just how long do I have to