The Man Who Wasn't All There David Handler (digital book reader .txt) đ
- Author: David Handler
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He glared at me. âAre you done?â
âIt was a well-devised operation. I especially like the part where Captain Rundle of Troop F made sure he delivered Austinâs toy state police cruiser to his home, keys in the ignition, so that Austin could make a quick getaway. That was really shrewd thinking.â
âNow are you done?â
âI guess so, although I reserve the right to get genuinely pissed off again. Annabeth McKennaâs in her early forties, a widow with three teenaged kids. The Yale School of Medicineâs top child psychiatrist, like you said, which is precisely what she told me Austin was â a child. Michael is, too, in her professional opinion. She described both of them as pre-pubescent.â
âGood-looking woman?â
âWhat does that have to do with anything?â
Tedone raised his chin at me. âJust curious.â
âSheâs quite attractive, as a matter of fact.â
Tedone leafed through his notepad some more, sticking his lower lip in and out. âAs far as persons of interest go, Jim Conley mentioned Austinâs cousins, the Hardy Boys âŠ?â
âRight. No love lost there. Theyâre here right now putting in Merileeâs storm doors and windows.â
âGood. Iâll have Ang find out where they were when Austin Talmadge was getting his throat slashed. Theyâre not exactly choirboys, those two. Theyâve had brushes with the law going back to high school â vandalism, criminal trespassing, marijuana possession. They got into a whale of a bar fight a couple of years ago at the Monkey Farm CafĂ©. Tony broke a guyâs jaw.â
âHave they ever served time?â
âNo,â he acknowledged. âI guess it helps being related to the Talmadge brothers. Even a poor relation.â He glanced back down at his notepad. âAnother person of interest is Donna Noyes.â
âWho is âŠ?â
âA grad student in botany at Cornell. She drove down a couple of weeks ago to work on her thesis at her parentsâ place in Old Lyme. It was pretty late at night by the time she got here. Austin, in his self-appointed role as an auxiliary state policeman, pulled her over, groped her and asked her pervy questions.â
âOK, I heard about this.â
âWhat you may not have heard is that Donna has a serious anger management problem. Recently had a restraining order filed against her by a guy who sheâd been seeing at Cornell. The guy met someone else and wanted to break up with Donna. He claims she physically assaulted him. Also slashed all four tires on his car and left a note on his windshield that said, Next time this will be your throat, you two-timing bastard! Interesting choice of words considering what went down, donât you think? Iâm told by Jim Conley that she knows the mountain well. Searches for native plant specimens up there. Could be she didnât take too kindly to the way Austin treated her and decided to do something about it. Those voices you thought you heard after Austin dumped you in the root cellar. Could one of them have been a womanâs voice?â
I mulled it over. âItâs possible. I really couldnât say for sure.â
He nodded his head slowly before he said, âOK, now itâs your turn.â
âMy turn for what, Lieutenant?â
âIâm not sure how you do it, but you and your short friend pick up bits and pieces that I donât. Got anything you care to share?â
âHappy to. Austin claimed to me that one of his brotherâs ex-Green Berets, Joaquin, kept staring at his pecker after he was captured and thrown in the shower of his personal sanitarium. He also claimed that Joaquin had made sexual advances toward him. There may or may not have been anything to that, but Austin was definitely homophobic. After he escaped from his house all of the bloody mayhem at the Old Lyme Beach Club was triggered, as it were, by Austin witnessing a public display of affection between a pair of young gay guys having lunch out on the deck.â
Tedone nodded. âTruman Mainwaring, an architect from New York, whose family has a place out here. Iâve spoken to him at the hospital. Heâs still pretty doped up. Skip Rimer, his boyfriend or whatever youâre supposed to call them this year, was there with him. Heâs the editor of a menâs outdoor magazine. Muscular, macho type. Got real hostile toward me after I discovered from the nursing staff that he left the hospital for several hours while Truman was in surgery. Several hours that happen to coincide with what weâre currently figuring is the mid-afternoon time frame when someone was slitting Austinâs throat. Rimer refused to tell me where he was. Got real uncooperative.â
âAre you hinting that I, being a fellow New York media type, might have better luck with him when I go back to the hospital to get checked over?â
âNot even maybe,â he said gruffly. âYou are not doing this again.â
âDoing what, Lieutenant?â
âWorking my case with me.â
âFine by me. I sensed that you were hinting.â
âI wasnât hinting.â He paused, gazing into the fire. âBut Rimer certainly fits the profile. Heâs in good enough shape to hike seven miles uphill, cut Austinâs throat, hurl him into the falls and hike seven miles back.â
âSo are the Hardy Boys,â I pointed out. âTheyâre volunteer firefighters who do a lot of outdoor work. They also grew up here and know that mountain well. Michael Talmadge qualifies as a no. Heâs too frail. But that doesnât mean he didnât sic one or more of his ex-Green Berets on baby brother to get rid of him once and for all. Did your people
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