For Sale in Palm Springs: The Henry Wright Mystery Series

Chapter 3

Henry looked at the collection of business cards on the kitchen counter and raised an eyebrow at Wayne. "When other realtors come over to show a house to a potential buyer, they use the lockbox at the front of the house to let themselves in. The lockbox contains the keys to the house. When they leave, they usually toss their business card somewhere on a counter or table as a courtesy to the listing agent." Wayne explained.

"What is a listing agent?" Henry asked looking through the pile of cards.

"A listing agent is the real estate agent representing the seller of the house, they are the agent that "takes the listing." Wayne said, not paying much attention to Henry's examination of the cards.

"Can I have these? They may lead to something interesting. Of course I'll return them." Henry said.

"Sure, we've made an inventory of all the agents that were here - I don't think you'll find anything other than a bunch of agents parading through the same set of houses."

"Have a look at where the phone was pulled off the wall and tell me what you think." Wayne said, motioning his friend closer to the blood stain.

"It looks like a standard wall telephone outlet." Henry said, reaching into his pocket for his reading glasses.

"It's one of those modular kind, not the plastic ones, but one of the older metal types, probably installed in the seventies." Wayne pointed out.

"I thought you said we had to look for someone strong that could rip an old fashioned telephone right off the wall." Henry asked Wayne, looking at the wall mount closely with his reading glasses perched at the end of his nose.

"Actually my friend, you said that we needed to look for someone strong when I told you that the phone had been pulled off the wall, I figured you'd change your mind once you saw it."

"Heck, my Irma could have pulled this phone out." Said Henry. "Not that she ever would need to do that of course." He added quickly, taking his glasses off and carefully putting them back in their case and into his pocket.

"So he got hit by the phone, fell down on the floor and bled to death?" Henry asked looking at the huge rusty red blood stain that showed that something obviously traumatic had happened in this kitchen.

"Basically, that's it, though if you look at the counter right here, we think he hit his head on the way down." Wayne said.

"And he didn't call anyone from the phone - did you dust it for prints?" Henry looked at the counter and around the rest of the empty kitchen.

"The only prints on the telephone were on the handset, and those were Thornbird's." Wayne replied. "Nothing else was on the phone itself, though it might have been wiped."

"Hmmm, wiped eh?" Henry said, furrowing his brow. "What makes you think it "might" have been wiped?" Henry asked.

"Well, everything around here is pretty dusty as you can see, and the phone didn't have any dust on it." Wayne said. "Besides, the phone wasn't on; service was cut off several months ago according to the phone company."

"All these real estate agents carry cell phones don't they?" Henry asked. "Did you check his phone, did he make any calls before he died, and was it in his pocket?" Henry asked his mind working quickly and asking the questions as fast as he thought of them.

"Slow down a second, apparently Thornbird didn't carry a cell phone on him." Wayne said, fishing another toothpick out of his pocket. "I know realtors stay in touch with cell phones so I specifically looked for it on his body when I first came here, no phone, no empty belt clip - we finally found his phone in the glove compartment of his car, it was turned off."