Part 9 (1/2)
Official demeanor back in place, he made another note. ”I haven't had the pleasure. Yet. I'll see her this evening.”
”Oh. You weren't the one who told her about Walter?”
He shook his head. ”Let's get back to your curiosity about your neighbor. Tell me more about why you've developed this sudden interest in him.”
”I told you-”
”Ambrose!” Sergeant Zahn stood in the rear doorway, looking very unhappy.
”Excuse me,” the detective said, and rose. Zahn took a couple steps toward him, and they spoke in low voices. Affecting disinterest, I examined the painting of men working a herd of cattle and listened as hard as I could.
”Why is she here?” Zahn asked in a low voice.
”Just finis.h.i.+ng up a few loose ends,” Ambrose said.
”Like what?”
”She saw someone over at Hanover's place the night he died.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Zahn glance at me. I ignored him.
”Did she see who it was?” he asked.
Ambrose shook his head. ”No.”
”Anything missing?”
”Not that I know of.” Ambrose said.
”Then forget it. The guy killed himself. End of story. Stop trying to make it into something more. We don't have time to investigate a homicide that didn't even happen. I need you back on the mayors case.
Stop trying to make it into something more. Meghan had said those same words to me. Was Ambrose looking into what had happened to Walter after all?
TWELVE.
DETECTIVE AMBROSE SIGHED As he sat down again. ”I think we're done here. Thanks for coming down.”
”Walter was murdered, wasn't he?” I whispered.
He looked uncomfortable. ”We have no evidence of that”
”Did you find a note?”
He shook his head. ”Not in his house or his vehicle.”
”What about the lye-did you find any at his house?”
He hesitated, then shook his head again.
”Okay,” I said. ”So he didn't leave a note. Lots of people don't, so that doesn't prove anything. But someone was in his house the night he died, and he had a pile of money and a new fiancee, neither of which tends to make someone want to kill himself. And both of which could be a motive for murder.”
Sergeant Zahn walked by.
Ambrose said, ”I'll walk you to your car.”
”No! You can't-”
He grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. As we approached the entrance, he said, ”I'll be back in a few minutes,” to the officer manning the front desk.
Outside he asked, ”Where's your car?”
”Wait a minute!”
”Where is it?”
”I walked.”
His hand firmly gripping my elbow, he guided me to the sidewalk that ran along the side of the long, low police station.
”What's this about a fiancee?” he asked.
”You don't already know?”
”If I did, I wouldn't ask.”
”But you know about the lottery?”
”Yeah-got his bank records yesterday.”
I told him about meeting Debby and Jacob, wondering if I was getting her in trouble. But if Walter had been murdered, Ambrose needed to know about her.
”What are their last names?”
”I don't know. But they hang out at Beans R Us.”
”So you were in Hanover's place, moving things around?”