Sue Grafton – “B” Is for Burglar

Known it would come down like that. I just hadn’t believed I would actually find the proof. Yet here it was. Someone had neatly whited out the name originally typed in and typed Marty’s name right over it. I ran my finger across the top line, feeling for the name typed underneath as though it were done in Braille. Elaine Boldt’s name was visible as a faint imprint under the name Marty Grice. The last few pieces were falling into place. I was certain hers were the charred remains recovered from the Grices’ house that night. I closed my eyes. It suddenly seemed very strange. I’d been tracking Elaine for ten days without realizing I’d already seen her in a photograph in the homicide file, burned beyond recognition. Marty Grice was alive and I suspected that she and Pat Usher were one and the same. There were details to nail down yet, but I had a very good idea how the murder had been set up. “Are you feelin’ all right?” “I’m fine,” I said briefly. “Did you want to talk to John?”

“Not right now, but at some point, yes. You’ve been a big help, Mrs. Pickett. Thanks.”

“Well, I don’t know what I did, but you’re certainly welcome.” I shook her hand, dimly aware of the mystified gaze that followed me as I left. I got in my car and sat there, trying to figure out what to do next. Jesus, how had they assured that the stomach contents would match? That must have been a slick one. The autopsy report indicated the blood type was O-positive, the most common type, so that was easy enough. Marty and Elaine were close in height. It wasn’t as though the murder victim was completely unknown. Everyone assumed it was Marty, and the dental X rays had simply been used to confirm her identity. There was no reason to imagine that the dead woman was anyone else. Leonard and his sister had talked to her on the phone at nine and Lily claimed Marty had hung up to go answer the door. The call to the police station was a little flourish someone thought up for the effect. Mike was right about the time. At 8:30 that night, there was a woman s body wrapped up in a rug. It just wasn’t his aunt. Elaine must have been bludgeoned to death sometime earlier, with enough of her jaw and teeth left intact to make identification possible. So many things were suddenly falling into place. Wim Hoover must have recognized Marty going in or out of Elaine’s apartment. Marty or Leonard apparently got to him before he got to a phone.

I started the car and pulled out of the lot, turning left. I headed over to the police station and parked out front in a fifteen-minute green zone across the street. Once inside the station, I stopped at the counter on the left. Beyond the counter, there was a doorway leading back into the squad room.

Some cop in plainclothes I’d never laid eyes on spotted me standing there as he passed the door. He paused.

“You need some help?”

“I’m looking for Lieutenant Dolan.”

“Let me check. I was just back there and I didn’t see him.”

He disappeared. I waited, glancing over my shoulder into Identification and Records. The black clerk was the only one there and she was typing away like crazy. I kept going back over it in my mind. It was so clear now how it all fit. Marty Grice had gone to Florida and lived in Elaine’s apartment. It wasn’t hard to figure out what she’d done. Lost some weight. Had her hair restyled and dyed. No one down there knew her from Adam so it wasn’t as if she had to hide. She probably just got herself spiffied up once she had Elaine’s bucks to do it with. I thought back to my encounter with her: the bruised, puffy face, the tape across her nose. She hadn’t been in any automobile accident. She’d had cosmetic surgery-a new face to go along with her new identity. She’d told me herself that she was “retired” and didn’t expect to work another day in her life. She and Leonard had fallen on hard times and there sat Elaine Boldt with money to burn and a tendency to indulge herself. How Marty must have seethed at the sight. Murder had been an equalizing force, with grand larceny providing a pension fund after the fact. Now all she had to do was wait until Leonard freed up and the two were set. It was Dolan’s case. If the murder weapon turned up, I thought he’d have enough evidence to act on. For now, at least I could tell him what was happening. I didn’t think it was smart to keep it to myself.

The plainclothesman returned. “He’s gone for the day. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Gone?” I said. I bit back my customary expletive but inside my head, I was saying, “Shit!”

“I’ll be in touch first thing in the morning.” “Sure. You want to leave him a note?” I took one of my cards out and gave it to him. “Just tell him I’ll stop by and fill him in.”

“Will do,” he said.

I went back to my car and took off. I had a theory about where the murder weapon was, but I wanted to talk to Lily Howe first. If she’d figured out what was going on, she’d be in danger. I glanced down at my watch. It was 6:15. I spotted a pay phone at a gas station and pulled in. My heart had begun to thud with dread. I didn’t want Mike in jeopardy. If he realized his aunt was alive, he’d be in trouble too. Hell, we all were. My hands were trembling as I paged through the telephone book, feverishly scanning for the other Grice listings. I found a Horace Grice on Anaconda, which looked like a good bet, and then had to scramble around in the bottom of my handbag for twenty cents. I dialed, holding my breath while the phone rang once, twice, four times, six. I let twelve rings go by and then I put the receiver back. I ripped the page out of the phone book and shoved it into my bag, hoping I’d have an opportunity to call again.

I got back in my car and headed out to Lily Howe’s place. Where were Leonard and Marty at this point? Could they have skipped or was it possible they were still together somewhere in town-at Lily Howe’s perhaps? I missed Carolina Avenue and had to circle back, peering at house numbers as I passed. I spotted the Howes’ residence and slowed, much to the annoyance of the people in the car behind me. I drove on by and did a turnaround in a driveway six doors down. As I pulled in to the curb to park, my heart gave a lurch. Leonard and his lady friend had just pulled into Lily’s drive.

I slouched down in my seat abruptly, banging one knee on the dashboard. Oh jeez, that hurt! I eased up slightly, peering over the edge of the steering wheel. They apparently hadn’t paid any attention to me because they were both getting out of the car, moving toward Lily’s front door with nary a backward glance. They knocked and she opened the door for them without any exclamation of surprise, horror, shock, or dismay. I wondered how long she’d known that Marty was alive. Had she been in league with them from the beginning? I watched the house uneasily. As long as Leonard was there, I was reasonably certain that Lily was safe, but I didn’t think Marty would be at all inclined to leave Lily Howe alive when they went off. I was going to have to do a little hovering over Lily Howe, playing guardian angel to her whether she knew it or not.

Chapter 25

I sat there while an incredibly painful, probably permanent bruise formed on my knee, trying to figure out what I should do next. I didn’t want to leave the scene now that I had the enemy in range. There wasn’t a public phone within miles, and who was I going to call anyway? I thought about getting out of the car and creeping up to the house, but I’ve never had very good results with that sort of thing. There are never windows open where you want them to be. On the few occasions when I’ve managed to eavesdrop, the subject matter has always been irrelevant. People just don’t sit around verbalizing the pertinent details of recent crimes. Peer over a windowsill and chances are you’re going to watch the villains play Crazy Eights. I’ve never seen anyone dismember the body or divvy up the bank heist. I decided to stay in my car and wait.

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