The House on Timber Lane by Robert F. Clifton (top business books of all time .txt) 📖

to hang up when a female answered with a dull tone in her voice.

“Hello?”

“Hello yourself”, he responded. “Wally?… You son of a bitch, you must want something.”

“Well, I was just sitting here listening to some beautiful music and it made me think of you”, he replied.

“Knock it off Wally…The last time I saw you we made a dinner date and you stood me up.”

“They called me in on a shooting in the Inlet.” “And, you couldn’t call me?”

“No, seriously Mary I couldn’t at the time. Tonight I said to myself I think I’ll give Mary Higgins a call and apologize. Long time no see.”

“Alright, what is it you want to know?”

“Well, now that you mentioned it and you being the head nurse of the ICU at the hospital, what can you tell me about a patient named Lillian Gray?”

“She’s in a coma.”

“I know that, what else?”

“She’s married to Doctor Gray”

“Yeah, yeah, what caused it.”

“No one knows and even if I had that information I wouldn’t give it to you. I could get fired and the hospital sued. You’re known for your professional ethics, well I have mine.”

“Can you tell me how she is doing?”

“Let’s just say that the patient is comfortable” “That’s it?”

“That’s all you’ll get from me, Wally”

He heard the sound of the receiver being placed on the telephone base as she hung up the phone. After getting up out of the chair and walking to his desk Wallace pushed the record button on his tape recorder. “Send Mary Higgins Flowers”, he said.

Saturday morning Wallace sat again at his kitchen table reading the morning newspaper. The donut he was having for breakfast was stale so he dunked it in the cup of coffee in front of him. As usual, he read the sports page first, local news next and national along with world news last.

With breakfast finished he showered, shaved, got dressed and gathered up his dirty clothes placing them in a large laundry bag. Most residents in the condo complex used the laundry room in the basement. Although convenient, Wallace found that he is the only bachelor living in the building it meant smiling while fending off dinner invitations from women who wanted him to meet their daughters or their friend's daughters. He found it easier to take his dirty clothes to a woman who took in washing for a living. It was a little expensive, but considering that Esmerelda Jenkins ironed his shirts, to him it was worth it.

After delivering his laundry he next headed for the supermarket. He tapped his shirt pocket making sure the grocery list he had prepared the night before was there. He felt it, then pulled into the large parking lot. Seeing a cart that someone had left after placing their groceries in a car he took it and pushed across the tarmac and into the store. When he entered he saw the

usual amount of female shoppers, young mothers, old women and a few men of various ages. He also spotted Wayne Hopkins a petty thief and shoplifter who was wearing a heavy overcoat on a nice day where the temperature was in the sixties. Wallace walked up behind Hopkins and pushed the shopping cart into the young man, who when being hit turned and said. “HEY!”

“Hey, your ass Wayne. Now, here’s what I want you to do. Whatever you’ve got in those overcoat pockets I want you to put in your cart. Then, you’re going to get your ass out of here. Do you understand?”

“I didn’t take anything Wally”, said Hopkins

“Wayne, don’t ruin my day. Do as I say because If I have to go into your pockets and find anything in there, large or small I’ll toss your ass in jail and that means I’ve got to go to headquarters and book you and that will piss me off Now, do as I say.”

Hopkins slowly placed a wrapped slice of ham, a can of tuna fish and a bag of gumdrops in the shopping cart. “That’s all Wally.”

“Bull shit”, Wallace replied.

Hopkins then dropped a tube of Ben Gay and a bottle of aspirin in with the other items.

“Alright, now get out of here and keep you hands where I can see them. Don‘t even think about grabbing something on the way out”, said Wallace.

After Hopkins left the store Wallace did his shopping. He bought six frozen meals, meatloaf, chicken, lasagna, pepper steak, and fish. At the fish counter, he ordered a half a pound of scallops. To those, he added fresh vegetables, potatoes, cabbage for coleslaw, fennel and fresh yellow beans. In the bakery, he placed a loaf of French bread and a lemon pie in his cart then headed for the checkout line.

Back at his condo after putting away his groceries Wallace checked his answering machine. He saw that he had one message. He pushed the play button and heard Elaine Benton’s voice. “Wally, please call me. Lillian died in the hospital at ten O’clock this morning.”

He dialed the telephone number listed for the realty office but received no answer. “Damn it!... She has my number but I never got her home telephone listing”, he thought to himself. After dialing the number for police headquarters he waited for someone at the Sergeant's Desk to answer the telephone. Then he heard, “Nautilus Beach Police Department, Sergeant Nolan.”

“Sergeant?…Captain Wallace… Give me the home telephone number listed for Elaine Benson of Benson Reality. It should be listed with the ADT system there at the desk.”

“Yes sir…I’ll get it for you”, said Sergeant Nolan. Wallace waited patiently while the Desk Sergeant looked for the information. Finally, Nolan picked up the receiver and said, “Captain…The number is 734 0829. Do you need anything else?”

“No…Thank you.”

After dialing the number Elaine answered. “Hello.” “Robert Wallace”, he said.

“Robert, I need to talk to you. I know I told you that Lillian has passed away, but something strange is going on and I don’t know what to do. Could you come here to my home?”

“Certainly, however, I don’t know where you live.”

“It’s three sixty Timber Lane.”

“Is that in the Bungalow Park area?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’m on the way.”

Twenty minutes later Wallace pulled up into the concrete driveway of Elaine Benson’s home. He got out of the car and as he was walking to the front door Elaine opened it. “Robert, hello…Please come in.”

Wallace wiped his feet on the welcome mat and entered the home. “What seems to be the problem?”, he asked.

“Please have a seat…Something strange is about to happen”, she said.

“Such as?”

“I called Vernon shortly after I learned of Lillian’s death. I offered my condolences and asked about the funeral arrangements. It was then that he informed me that Lillian is to be cremated tomorrow.”

“Wallace remained silent for a moment, then spoke. Quick, but not unusual. Many people are turning to cremation rather than the traditional burial.”

“Lillian was a devout Catholic. Neither she or her church would condone a cremation”, offered Elaine.

“The church looks upon cremation with disdain because of the early Christians, those they refer to as the martyrs were burned to death in the arena and their ashes scattered by the ancient Romans. I can see Lillian and her church’s viewpoint. What bothers me is why no viewing for her family or friends and why so quick?.” Wallace replied.

“That’s why I called you. Can you stop him?” “Elaine…I’ve got to have a reason. A husband has the right to handle his dead wife’s funeral anyway he wants, just as long as it’s legal. Right now all I have is your suspicions and I can’t get a court order on that.”

“I know that he killed her Robert. He murdered her just as sure as you are sitting here.”

“You might be right. If you are, eventually he’ll make a mistake. For now, let me ask you a few questions. Was Lillian diabetic?"

“No.”

“How about high blood pressure, heart disease?”

“No…I told you she was healthy.”

“Was she starting menopause?”

“We are too young.”

“I had to ask.”

“You indicated that her husband killed her for the insurance money. Did Lillian have any assets of her own?"

“Just the house across the street. It was left to her by her mother. Vernon wanted her to sell it, but she refused. She grew up in that house. Her living across the street from my family caused us to become best friends…Now, she’s gone.”

Wallace removed a pen from his shirt pocket. “Do you have a piece of paper or something I can write on?”, he asked.

Elaine got up left the room, then returned with a notepad.

“Thank you..What is the address of Lillian’s house?”

“It’s three fifty-seven Timber Lane…My number is three sixty.”

“Alright, like I said, there’s not too much I can do at this point. I will promise to look into the good doctor, such as his practice, his background etc…Meanwhile, will you be alright?”

“I’ll be fine...Thank you, Robert.”

 

Chapter Two

Spring turned into summer and Wallace was kept busy investigating crime and criminals that came into the city. He had learned a long time ago that if he needed to know what was happening in the city he had to have people who would give him information.

Since Nautilus Beach was a resort town with many hotels and motels Wallace had secured the trust of some of the hotel’s head housekeepers and the occasional front desk clerk. The housekeepers would tell him what they observed in the rented rooms. The desk clerks would provide him with the names of those who checked in as they registered, who they were with, what room they rented along with a list of telephone numbers they called from the room.

Near the end of July, Captain Wallace received a telephone call from the housekeeper of the Emerald Hotel, located one block from the beach. Marie Headly told him that while checking the condition of room 409 she noticed that different items, such as portable televisions, tape recorders, radios, golf clubs and silver bowls and goblets were placed on the floor next to the walls of the room. She also stated that as the room was rented by two men, two mink coats were hanging in the closet.

“What do these guys look like?”, asked Wallace.

“Both of them are white, average height, maybe five foot eight or nine. Each one of them is about twenty-five years old, dark hair. They told one of the maids that they deal in sales of merchandise they purchase from estates, but none of us has seen anyone arrive to make any purchases. At the same time, there has been a lot of race track tickets in their trash. I talked to Harry Williams the night Desk Clerk. He told me that both men always leave together and they wear sunglasses at night.”

“Anything else?", asked Wallace.

“Not that I can think of at the moment”

“Alright, I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Marie.”

Wallace lit a cigarette, reached for the telephone on his desk and dialed three numbers. He waited a moment then heard, “Major Crime, Sergeant, O’Neil’.

“Bill, come to my office. I think we’ve got something”, said Wallace.

“On the way”, O’Neil replied.

Three minutes later Bill O’Neil walked into the office of Robert Wallace. “What do you have?”, he asked.

“I got information that two guys staying at the Emerald Hotel might have a stash of stolen property. I want you to go there. I’ll have the housekeeper open the door to the room. Take a look inside. I want you to see if we have enough probable cause for a search warrant. At the same time, if they’re dirty, we might want to bug the room, just to see where they’ve been or where they’re going. I want this to be legal Bill. Take Stiles with you, he’s level-headed.”

“Yep, no problem.”

“Go there about two-thirty or three o’clock. Seems these guys hit the track every day. The first race has a two pm post time.”

“Got it.”

“Good, have you heard anything from Civil Service on the lieutenant's test?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, good luck. You deserve to be promoted.”

“Thanks, Cap.”

When O’Neil left the office Wallace dialed the telephone number of the Emerald