your memory?â
âYes, sir. It was my birthday. Usually I get time off to celebrate, maybe go into Boca with a couple of the boys after work. But that day I couldnât, it was Friday the thirÂteenth. Iâm not allowed to leave the house on Friday the thirteenth.â
âNot allowed?â
âA quiromántico told me never to because of strange lines in my hands. So I just stayed home like it was no special day and cooked dinner and served it.â
âAt what time?â
âAbout seven-thirty, later than usual on account of Mr. Osborne had been to the city.â
âDid you see Mr. Osborne after dinner?â
âYes, sir. He came out to the kitchen while I was cleanÂing up. He said he forgot to buy my birthday present, like Mrs. Osborne asked him to, and would I accept money, and I said I sure would.â
âWas Mr. Osborne wearing his spectacles when he came out to the kitchen?â
âNo, sir. But he could see okay, so I guess he was wearÂing those little pieces of glass over his eyeballs.â
âContact lenses.â
âYes.â
âWhat did he give you for your birthday, Miss GonÂzales?â
âA twenty-dollar bill.â
âDid he take the bill from his wallet in your presence?â
âYes, sir.â
âDid you notice anything of interest about the wallet?â
âIt was full of money. I never saw Mr. Osborneâs wallet before and I was surprised and kind of worried too. The boys donât get much pay.â
âBoys?â
âThe workers that come and go.â
âThe migrants?â
âYes. It would of been a real temptation to them if they found out how much money Mr. Osborne was carrying.â
âThank you, Miss Gonzales. You mayââ
âIâm not saying any of them did it, killed him for the money. Iâm just saying that a lot of money is a big temptaÂtion to a poor man.â
âWe understand that, Miss Gonzales. Thank you . . . Will Mr. Lum Wing take the stand, please?â
Lum Wing, encouraged by his sunny hour in the park, gave his name in a high clear voice with a trace of southern accent.
âWhere do you live, Mr. Wing?â
âSometimes here, sometimes there. Where the work is.â
âYou have a permanent address, donât you?â
âWhen thereâs nothing better to do I stay at my daughÂterâs house in Boca de Rio. Sheâs got six kids, I share a room with two of my grandsons. I keep away from there as much as possible.â
âWhat is your profession, Mr. Wing?â
âI used to be cook with a circus. What my daughter tells the neighbors, I retired. What happened, the circus went bust.â
âYou come out of retirement and take a job now and then?â
âYes, sir, to get out of the house.â
âYour work has brought you to the Osborne ranch at various times?â
âYes.â
âYouâre working there now, in fact?â
âYes, sir.â
âAnd you were there a year ago, on October thirteen?â
âYes.â
âWhere do you stay when youâre working at the ranch?â
Lum Wing described his living arrangements in the curtained-off corner of the former barn that served as a mess hall. In the late afternoon of October 13 he had cooked supper as usual. After the men departed for their payday fling in Boca de Rio heâd drawn his curtain, set up a chess game and opened a bottle of wine. The wine made him sleepy, so he lay down on his cot. He must have dozed off, because the next thing he remembered was the sound of voices speaking loud and fast in Spanish on the other side of the curtain. On occasion other basic needs besides eating were satisfied at the mess-hall tables and Lum Wing made it a habit to ignore what went on. Moving quietly in the darkness he checked his case of knives, his pocket watch and chess set, the rest of the bottle of wine, and
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham