Stuart Woods - Choke

“Of course,” she replied, opening the door. “He’s out at the pool; you two go on upstairs to the living room, and I’ll get him.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Tommy replied. He led the way up the stairs, emerging into a large, airy room. “Okay, Daryl, let’s see what we can find before Carras gets here.”

The two detectives began walking around the room. Tommy thought it was nicely furnished, but not quite complete. There were corners that could use a chair, and there were no curtains in place. He found some snapshots of Carras and his wife on a desk-all of them appeared to have been taken in or around Key West, one of them on a large motor yacht that reminded him of something, he couldn’t remember what. “Anybody coming?” he asked Daryl, who was near a window on the pool side of the house.

Daryl looked out the window. “You’ve got thirty seconds,” he said.

Tommy opened the middle desk drawer and found a checkbook from the First State Bank, a local outfit. There was a balance of $81,000, and, he saw as he flipped through the ledger, the checks had been written mostly for household expenses.

“Fifteen seconds,” Daryl whispered loudly.

Tommy continued to flip through pages of the check ledger until he heard a footstep on the stairs. He closed the drawer and looked at Daryl, who seemed lost in a leatherbound book from a shelf across the room. Daryl put the book down just as Carras reached the top of the stairs. The man was dressed in a robe and was drying his thick white hair with a towel.

“Oh, hello,” Carras said. “You were at the scene of my accident.”

“Yes, sir,” Tommy replied. “I didn’t introduce myself at the time. I’m Detective Sculley and this is my partner, Detective Haynes.”

Carras shook both their hands. “You’re pretty young for a detective, aren’t you?” he said to Daryl.

“Yes, sir, I guess I am,” Daryl replied pleasantly.

“Won’t you gentlemen have a seat,” Carras said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Both detectives declined.

“How can I help you, then?” Carras asked, sitting on one of the matching sofas while the detectives sat opposite him.

“I just wanted to let you know that we found out what was wrong with your car,” Tommy said.

“Good,” Carras replied. “It’s still on warranty.”

“There’s no warranty for this, I’m afraid; there was a hole in your brake line,” Tommy said. “All the fluid had drained out, and I’m afraid the police mechanic thinks someone deliberately punctured the line.” He looked up to see Mrs. Carras at the top of the stairs. Her robe was wet, and he could see the outline of her nipples against the thin fabric. She came and sat next to her husband.

Carras stared at Tommy. “Do you mean that you think someone sabotaged my car?”

“It looks that way, sir. I’d like to ask you some questions, if I may.”

“But who would have done such a thing?” Carras asked.

“We’ll get to that in a minute,” Tommy replied. “How long have you been in Key West, Mr. Carras?”

“About seven months, I guess.”

“Where did you live before?”

“New York.”

“And what sort of work do you do, sir?”

“I’m retired, mostly.”

“Retired from what?”

“Oh, I did a bit of this and that. I guess you could call me an entrepreneur.”

“I see. And what sort of businesses were you involved in?”

“Varied investments; real estate, commodities, the stock market, that sort of thing.”

“You said mostly retired; what business are you currently involved in?”

“I have some real estate deals going around South Florida; the West Coast, mainly. Nothing I have to pay a lot of attention to.”

“Are any of your investments in anything to do with gambling? Horse racing, casinos, hotels, that sort of thing?”

“No.”

“Are you involved in any sort of business where some of the other investors might have what might be thought of as shady backgrounds?”

“Good lord, no! All my partners are pillars of the community, I assure you.”

“Do you have any enemies, Mr. Carras?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Do you think there might be someone in your past, a business partner, for instance, who might feel that he got the short end of some deal?”

“Certainly not. Everyone who’s ever been in business with me has done very well for himself, I assure you.”

“Have you had any sort of disagreement or altercation with anyone locally in Key West?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Have you ever sued anyone, or been sued?”

“Locally?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No.”

“How about elsewhere?”

“The only lawsuit I’ve ever been involved in was more than twenty years ago, and I lost. It was quite expensive, and no one on the other side would have any reason to hold a grudge.”

“Mrs. Carras, where are you from, originally?” Tommy asked.

“I’m from California.”

“Where in California?”

“San Diego.”

“Where did you meet your husband?”

“We met in Las Vegas, where I was working for a hotel.”

“And what took you to Las Vegas, Mr. Carras?”

“I was on a golfing vacation; that, and a little light gambling.”

“How much did you lose?”

“I won a couple of thousand dollars, as a matter of fact.”

“Do you gamble a lot?” “Rarely.”

“Do you have any debts?”

“Nothing more than thirty days old,” Carras replied. “I don’t like to owe money.”

“Mrs. Carras, do you know anyone who might wish your husband ill?”

“No, I don’t. Harry is very well liked by everyone who knows him.”

“Well,” Tommy said, rising. “Looks like we’re at a dead end.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” Carras said, getting up.

Tommy handed him a card. “If you think of anything else that might be of help to us, I’d appreciate a call,” he said. “I have to tell you that we take a serious view of this incident, and we think you should, too. Whoever sabotaged your car would be looking at a charge of attempted murder, and he might try again.”

“I wish I could take it as seriously as you, Detective,” Carras said, walking them down the stairs, “but I just can’t imagine that anyone would want to harm me. Clare, will you see the detectives out?”

“Of course, darling,” she replied. “This way, gentlemen.”

Carras left the house by the door to the pool, and his wife led the two men down the hallway to the front door.

Tommy let Daryl go ahead of him, then paused on the front porch. “Mrs. Carras,” he said quietly, “are you having an affair with anyone?”

She was obviously taken aback and didn’t speak for a moment. “No,” she said, finally. “I’m not.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said, “but if there’s someone Mr. Carras doesn’t know about that you think might want to harm him, please tell me.”

“There’s no one, Detective,” she said firmly, “no one I know who would want to harm Harry.”

“Thank you for your help,” Tommy said.

Tommy waited until they were around the corner before he spoke. “She’s screwing somebody,” he said. “She lied when I asked her about it, I could tell.”

“That doesn’t mean that whoever she’s screwing would want to kill her husband.”

“Didn’t you see the woman, Daryl? Didn’t you see those nipples staring at you through her robe? If you were screwing her, wouldn’t you want to kill her husband?”

“You’ve got a point,” Daryl admitted. “Oh, by the way, I picked up on something.”

“What?”

“That book I was looking at; it was autographed to somebody named Rock.”