Chapter 9

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I went back to my office to gather all my notes, run a razor over my chin and get a new tie. Harry's Thai sauce seemed to have found a home among the pattern of leaves. Garth Meadows, sergeant of detectives was sitting in front of my desk.

"How did you get in?"

"It was unlocked."

I stared at the door. How come I needed a key all the time. "What can I do for you, Detective?"

"You can tell me about Carlos Desmond."

"Who?" My armpits came on like a lawn sprinkler.

"Carlos Desmond, the man who supplied Luther Sloan who supplied Rodney Semple who is the killer of Luther Sloan and fiancé of Felicia Smythe-Frye and daughter of your client Bennett."

". . . Oh him . . . what about him?"

"Carlos was found in a post hole on the site of the new yacht club dry dock."

It wasn't exactly fishing but it was close to water. I felt Meadows' stare burning into my face.

"I uh, spoke to him after the Sloan shooting."

"Why?"

"Well it was just to see if there was more to- to Rodney's involvement than just uh- just buying some drugs."

"And what did you learn, Hart?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all. He clammed right up."

"So you stuck him in a post hole."

"Huh? What! No! How do you know I spoke to him anyway?"

Meadows' guttural laugh filled the office and he stood, pointing at me and shaking his head.

"You're so easy, Hart." I was too pumped and worried to reply. "We found your card on him."

"Aaah, yeah. I left it with him in case he changed his mind."

"You mentioned drugs, anything you want to tell me about your clients?"

"Privileged, Detective."

"Only if I don't beat it outta you."

"True, but that's not really you. Is it."

He snickered and walked to the door, pausing to give me his, wise in the ways of the world, weary cop look.

"Semple links your clients to Desmond, my friend. We'll be speaking again I think."

I cursed my office ceiling and wondered what else might crop up before this mess was untangled. All I had to do was deliver the necklace to Smyth-Frye and my job would have been done . . . except now Meadows was sure to find Desmond's connection to the Druids and straight back to me.

I did the things I came back to do then left . . . locking the door.

*******

"I don't understand. Why can't you just tell the cops what happened. They aren't going to get all worked up about your family's personal problems . . . other than Rodney . . . but that wasn't your family's fault." I watched Bennett put the necklace in his study desk. Guess he didn't want me following him to the bedroom. "You can bet they'll hear it from me if I get hung out to dry about the Druid's involvement."

Smythe-Frye poured himself a drink and studied me, sipping it.

"The police have already questioned my family and the necklace never came up. As far as they know the entire incident was simply drugs. I'm not an unreasonable man, Mr. Hart. I understand that it was Rodney's rather rash action that put us in the eyes of the police." He sipped a little more of his drink. "The problem now is preventing a similar rash act by yourself."

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