Миранда Джеймс - File M For Murder

Apartment 117 was a corner unit at the back, and as I approached it the door swung open. Cell phone clutched in one hand, Laura stumbled toward me. I hugged her tight to my chest.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.” I repeated those words several times, and Laura grew calmer.

She drew back, and her tear-stained face wrenched my heart. Suddenly she was twelve again, and I wanted to comfort her. But I had to ask one question I neglected to ask earlier. “Honey, did you check him? To be sure, I mean?”

“I freaked out when the 911 operator asked me to do it.” Laura regarded me with guilt-stricken eyes. “I just couldn’t touch him.”

“I’ll check.” I moved past her to the open door. “Where is he?”

“Right there in the living room.” Laura closed her eyes and began deep-breathing exercises.

I stepped inside, and I gagged at the smell of stale cigarette smoke and a couple of odors that hinted at death. I figured then it was probably too late, but I had to check anyway.

The door opened right into the living room. Connor lay sprawled on a couch a few feet away. His head rested against an arm of the couch, and his mouth stretched wide in an unsettling grimace, as if he died in pain. His bloodshot eyes bulged, and there were splotches of red on his face and neck. Did some kind of poison cause that?

Could he have killed himself? Maybe his death was the result of some kind of bizarre accident.

Another thought struck me. Those red splotches—weren’t they signs of suffocation?

I stepped close enough to feel for a pulse in his left arm, which dangled off the edge of the couch. His fingers brushed the floor, and I braced myself as I touched the inside of his wrist.

No pulse, skin cool to the touch. I’d seen him on stage at the college only a few hours ago. How long had he been dead?

I stepped back and, as I moved toward the door, I noted certain details about the room.

An empty bourbon bottle sat on the floor by the couch. On the side table nearby an ashtray overflowed with ash and cigarette butts. There was a desk in the corner, its surface littered with pens and scraps of paper. The chair sat with its back against the wall.

At the sound of voices outside I turned and hurried out the door.

Two Athena city police officers stood there with Laura, and they both frowned when they saw me. The older of the two started to speak, but stopped and stared at me.

I recognized him about the time he realized he knew me. “Hello, Officer Williams.” He was one of the policemen who’d responded to the call a few months ago when I’d found another dead body. The younger officer stepped past me and entered the apartment. He looked familiar, too. I thought his name was Grimes.

“Mr. Harris, isn’t it?” Williams didn’t look pleased to see me. “What are you doing here?”

“This is my daughter, Laura. She found the body and called me, and of course I came.” I put an arm around my daughter who was still shivering a little, despite the heat.

“You called your father first, Miss Harris? Not 911?” Williams frowned.

“Yes, sir.” Laura cleared her throat before she continued. “I’m sorry, I was so shaken by what I found I just wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“How long have you been here, Mr. Harris?” Williams focused his laser stare on me.

“Only a few minutes. I got here maybe two minutes ahead of you.”

Grimes popped out of the apartment then. He exchanged a look with Williams, and the two of them stepped to one side to confer in low voices.

I checked my daughter. Her normal color was back, and she was breathing more easily. These were good signs, but I wanted to get her away from here as soon as possible. I knew from experience, however, that we would be here for a while.

As I watched Laura, I saw the tears begin to well in her eyes. I pulled out my handkerchief and handed it to her, and she dabbed at her eyes. I opened my arms, and she leaned into them, resting her head against my shoulder. “Honey, I’m so sorry,” I whispered. A muffled sob was her response.

“Mr. Harris, I need to ask your daughter some questions since she was first on the scene.” Williams spoke politely, but firmly. I held up a hand to stall him for a moment, and he nodded.

“Laura, do you feel like talking to the officer?” I kept my voice low and gentle. I felt Laura nod against my shoulder. She detached herself from my embrace and scrubbed her face with my handkerchief.

“Sorry, Officer, he was a friend of mine. Finding him like that was a shock.” Laura began with a quaver in her voice but finished sounding stronger.

“Can you tell us who he is, Miss Harris?” Williams regarded Laura with a neutral expression.

“Connor Lawton,” Laura said. “He’s a playwright. He’s—he was—here as writer-in-residence for the year at Athena College.”

Before he could continue his questioning, the clatter of approaching footsteps across the bricked courtyard alerted us to the presence of newcomers. I met the gaze of one of them, and my stomach started to knot up.

Accompanied by two deputies, Kanesha Berry marched toward us. Her grim expression did not bode well for either me or Laura.

Right behind Kanesha and her men came an ambulance crew. The deputies stepped aside to let the other group by. I kept my eyes mostly on Kanesha, and her gaze never wavered from mine.

I braced myself for the storm about to hit, praying that I could somehow protect my daughter from the worst of it.

THIRTEEN

Officer Williams pointed the ambulance crew toward the open door, then stepped forward to greet Kanesha Berry and the deputies several feet away. They had a low-voiced conversation while Laura and I stood there under the unsmiling watch of Officer Grimes. I was getting impatient. I wanted to take Laura away, because finding a dead body is a horrible experience. She didn’t appear to be in shock, but I could imagine how wretched she felt.

As I stood there, inwardly fretting and watching my daughter closely, Laura said quietly, “I’m okay, Dad. This is horrible, but I’ll get through it.”

“Okay, honey,” I said. “But if you feel like you need to get away from here, tell me.”

I’d kept one eye on Kanesha Berry while I spoke to Laura, and now the chief deputy moved forward. She stopped a couple of paces in front of me.

“Mr. Harris, I can’t say I’m pleased to find you here.” Kanesha’s expression was impassive, but her voice was tart. “Would you care to explain just why you’re here?” She glanced at Laura. “And this is your daughter, I take it?”

“Yes, this is Laura. She’s teaching at the college this semester.” I introduced Kanesha to Laura before I continued with my explanation. “I’m here because Laura called me and asked me to come. She was upset over what she found, and naturally I responded.”

Kanesha nodded. She glanced around the courtyard. “There’s a bench in the shade.” She gestured with her right hand. “Why don’t y’all wait over there? I’ll have more questions for you in a few minutes.”

“Sure.” I was suddenly conscious of the heat again. Shade was a welcome idea. When Laura and I sat, I wasn’t surprised to see that Officer Grimes had followed us. He took up position a few feet away inside the shaded area.

Laura and I remained silent as we watched the apartment door. Kanesha had gone inside with her deputies while Officer Williams remained outside. The EMTs came out and found another shaded spot where they could wait until they could remove the body.

Kanesha’s “few minutes” passed, and she was still inside the apartment. Patience has never been one of my virtues, and I was feeling more and more anxious. Laura, on the other hand, was the epitome of calm. She sat beside me, her hands lying relaxed in her lap, her eyes closed, her breathing even. She was meditating, I supposed, something I’ve never learned but probably should.