Killer's Choice

'Is Granma home?'

'Yes. She went to get something for me. From Mommy's room.'

'I don't call her Mommy,' Monica confided. 'Granma doesn't like that. I call her Mother.'

'Don't you call Granma Grandmother?'

'Only when she's around,' Monica said, giggling and then stifling the laugh with a cupped hand. 'What's your name?'

'Bert.'

'Are you one of Mother's boy friends?'

'No.' Kling said.

'What are you?'

'I'm a cop.'

'Really?' Monica asked, her eyes wider. 'Like on Dragnet!'

'Better than Dragnet,' Kling said, modestly.

'Do you have a gun?'

'Sure.'

'Could I see it?'

Kling unholstered the .38 and checked the safety to make sure it was on. Monica came close to the gun, but Kling did not let it out of his hand.

'Is it real?'

'Certainly,' Kling said.

'Where'd you get it?'

'In a box of Rice Krispies.'

'You didn't!'

'No, not really. How old are you, Monica?'

'Five. I'll be six soon.'

Kling bolstered the gun. 'Are you just getting home from school?'

'Yes. I only go half a day because I'm still in kindergarten. Next term I'll be in the first grade. Then I'll go all day, and I'll have books. I never met a cop before.'

'I never met a little girl in kindergarten before.'

'Oh, we're nothing special.'

'Everybody's something special, Monica.'

'Why are you here?'

'Oh, just a routine check.'

'That's what they say on Dragnet.'

'Well, they're right.'

'A routine check on what?' Monica asked.

'On five-year-old girls who are in kindergarten.'

'Why?' Monica asked seriously. 'Did one do something?'

Kling burst out laughing. 'No, honey,' he said. 'I was only joking.'

'Then why are you here?'

'Routine,' he said.

This was not his job. Telling a five-year-old button that her mother had been shot dead was not his job. He had sworn the oath, and he believed he was a good cop, but this was action far above and beyond the call of duty, and maybe Carella could take a five-year-old redhead on his knee and gently and patiently explain to her that her mother had been shot four times in the chest, but Kling could not. Not yet. Maybe years from now. But not yet.

'What kind of routine?' Monica asked persistently, and Kling was extremely grateful for Mrs Travail who entered the room at that moment.

'Here's the… oh!' She saw Monica and her eyes fled instantly to Kling's face. 'You didn't…'

'No,' Kling said.

'Didn't what?' Monica asked.

'Nothing, darling. Have you met Detective Kling?'

'His name is Bert,' Monica said.

'Then you have met.'

'Sure. He's here on routine.'

'Yes,' Mrs Travail said. 'How was school today, darling?'

'Oh, the same old jazz,' Monica said.

'Monica!'

Kling tried to suppress his smile.

'Why don't you go to your room, Monica?' Mrs Travail said. 'Mr Kling and I have some business to finish.'

'Sure,' Monica said. She turned to Kling and said, 'Where's Frank Smith?'

'Out on a 365 W,' Kling said, and Monica laughed in delight.

'Will you call me when you're through, Grandmother?' she said politely.

'Yes, dear.'

'Good-bye, Mr Kling. I hope you find her.'

'I hope so, too.'

Monica left the room. Mrs Travail waited for her to leave and then said, 'She wasn't referring to…'

'No. A private joke between us.'

'Do you think a woman might have killed my daughter?'

'It's possible.'

'Here's the address book. All her girl friends are in it.' She handed Kling the book.

'Thank you, Mrs Travail,' he said. 'And thank you for your cooperation.'

At the door, Mrs Travail said, 'You are going to visit Theodore, aren't you?'

'Yes,' Kling said. 'We are.'

'He didn't do it,' Mrs Travail said evenly. 'Good day, Mr Kling.'

CHAPTER FOUR

Herman Dodson, Inc.

Fine Furnitures

June 1957

Detective Bertram Kling 87th Detective Squad

457 Parkside

Isola

Dear Detective Kling:

In answer to your telephone query of yesterday, I asked our Personnel Manager to consult our files on the employment of Anne Carolyn Boone. He has done so, and given me a full report, and I pass this on to you for whatever it is worth.

Miss Boone answered a blind advertisement in a local daily run on Sunday, 13 March 1955. The advertisement read:

WANTED

Experienced saleswoman for established quality furniture store. Salary plus commission. Call Patrick 3-7021.

Miss Boone called and was granted an interview. As it turned out, she had never had any experience selling furniture, and our Personnel Manager was somewhat hesitant about hiring her. But, as you probably know, she had recently been divorced, and she was a rather attractive girl with a warm-spirited personality. We felt we could use her personality to good advantage in our modern furniture department, and we employed her for a trial period of six months. Her starting salary was $45.00 per week, plus commissions, of course, with the understanding that she would be given an increase of $5.00 per week at the end of the six-month period, should her employment prove satisfactory.

As it turned out, our judgement was not at all inaccurate. Miss Boone was a fine worker and a good saleswoman. She was well-liked by every employee on the sixth floor (Modern Furniture, Lamps, etc.) and was regarded as both capable and enthusiastic by the floor manager.

We were, indeed, most distressed to have her leave us last year. We understand, though, that she had a job offering a much higher salary, and we certainly would not stand in the way of opportunity.

I can assure you, Detective Kling, that we learned of her death with great sorrow here at Herman Dodson. Miss Boone was a fine woman and a pleasure to know. She was getting over a most trying experience in her personal life, but she never allowed her private troubles to interfere in any way with her relations with fellow employees or with customers of the store.

I wish you the greatest success in your endeavours to apprehend her murderer. If I can be of any further assistance, please do not hesitate to call.

My very best wishes,

Sincerely,

Ralph Dodson

for HERMAN DODSON, INC.

Kling studied the letter from Ralph Dodson, and then wondered why anyone had killed Anne Carolyn Boone and then destroyed a liquor store to boot. It did not seem to make much sense. Shrugging, he pulled the Isola telephone directory to him, thumbed it open, and began leafing through the B's. He found a listing for Theodore Boone, phtgrphr at 495 Hall Avenue. He asked the desk sergeant for a line, and then dialled the number. The phone was picked up instantly.

'Theodore Boone, good morning,' a cheery voice chirped.

'Mr Boone, please,' Kling said.

'Who's calling, please?'

'Detective Bert Kling of the 87th Detective Squad.'

'Oh,' the voice said.

'Is he in?'

'I don't know, sir. Just one moment, and I'll see.'

Kling waited. While he waited, he drew a picture of a man with a beard, and he put eyeglasses on the man and then a spotted sports shirt. He was ready to hang up and dial again when the voice came on to the line. It was a deep voice, a good voice, a real voice.

'Hello?'

'Mr Boone?'

'Yes?'

'Detective Kling, 87th Squad.'

'I've been expecting this,' Boone said. 'It's about Annie, isn't it?'