have heard it wrong or—
“That’s crazy, Jessica! Why the hell would somebody like George Timms break into a geek shop?”
“Because he was being blackmailed.”
“Blackmailed!” I lowered my voice and looked over my shoulder to be sure that Ruby and Ramona hadn’t heard me. “Who told you that?”
There was a moment’s silence. “Well, I didn’t get it right from the horse’s mouth, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Timms’ lawyer—Charlie Lipman—for verification. No luck yet. But my source is very close to the action, and she says—” Jessica stopped, conscious that she had unintentionally let something slip. Her information had come from a woman, and I had an idea who. Charlie Lipman’s secretary. I knew that he’d had to warn her once before about spilling secrets outside the office.
“Believe me, China,” Jessica added. “This is going to happen. Timms’ surrender has already been arranged.” She was trying to stay cool, but I could hear the suppressed excitement in her voice. “This is going to be a big story. Front page.”
I know Jessica well enough to know that she wouldn’t be talking to me like this unless she was absolutely convinced that she had her facts straight. But I still couldn’t get my mind around the idea that George Timms—a stalwart citizen who was active in the Chamber of Commerce and a member of the local Fight Crime in Our Community group (political friends and supporters of our do-gooding district attorney, Howie Masterson, who is farther to the right than Archie Bunker)—would break into Larry Kirk’s computer shop.
Of course, Timms isn’t exactly a one-sided character. He is an influential and well-heeled member of the community, yes. But he also has areputation as a maverick with a short fuse and an interest in young women. He’s in his forties, blond, good-looking, well built, twice divorced, and something of a playboy. According to the local gossip, he occasionally veers to the wild side.
Of course, you can’t believe everything you hear: gossip is one of the worst small-town vices, and in this case, I imagine there’s some envy in the mix. But there’s an abundance of rumors floating around, mostly about parties at a place Timms owns in the Hill Country. And it didn’t take much imagination to make a connection between those rumored parties and the alleged blackmail. But how that might be connected to a break-in at a computer shop, I hadn’t a clue.
“We’re off the record, China,” Jessica went on. “You knew Kirk, and you’ve served on community projects with Timms. Can you come up with
any
possible connection—no matter how remote—between this burglary and Kirk’s… suicide?”
I heard the skepticism in her last word, but I wasn’t going to encourage her by responding to it. No, I didn’t think Larry killed himself. But, I wasn’t going to admit it—not to a reporter. If Jessica was going in that direction, she was going without me.
“Sometimes coincidences really
are
coincidences,” I said in a cautionary tone. “And anyway, just because somebody is arrested, it doesn’t automatically make him guilty. Cops have been known to make mistakes. They’re not infallible.” But a mistake was not likely in this case, I thought. The police wouldn’t risk miscalculating where a prominent citizen like George Timms was concerned.
“I didn’t say he was guilty,” Jessica retorted. “I just said he’s being arrested.”
I knew. But I also knew that once the story of Timms’ arrest appeared in the papers, the community, serving as judge and jury, wouldrender a verdict of guilty. I changed the subject. “Have you told the police what Mrs. Wauer said about that gunshot?” The officer who canvassed the neighbors would no doubt pick up the information, but that could be tomorrow. Sheila could use it this evening, when she was trying to fix the time of death.
“Not yet. Guess I’d better
“That’s crazy, Jessica! Why the hell would somebody like George Timms break into a geek shop?”
“Because he was being blackmailed.”
“Blackmailed!” I lowered my voice and looked over my shoulder to be sure that Ruby and Ramona hadn’t heard me. “Who told you that?”
There was a moment’s silence. “Well, I didn’t get it right from the horse’s mouth, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Timms’ lawyer—Charlie Lipman—for verification. No luck yet. But my source is very close to the action, and she says—” Jessica stopped, conscious that she had unintentionally let something slip. Her information had come from a woman, and I had an idea who. Charlie Lipman’s secretary. I knew that he’d had to warn her once before about spilling secrets outside the office.
“Believe me, China,” Jessica added. “This is going to happen. Timms’ surrender has already been arranged.” She was trying to stay cool, but I could hear the suppressed excitement in her voice. “This is going to be a big story. Front page.”
I know Jessica well enough to know that she wouldn’t be talking to me like this unless she was absolutely convinced that she had her facts straight. But I still couldn’t get my mind around the idea that George Timms—a stalwart citizen who was active in the Chamber of Commerce and a member of the local Fight Crime in Our Community group (political friends and supporters of our do-gooding district attorney, Howie Masterson, who is farther to the right than Archie Bunker)—would break into Larry Kirk’s computer shop.
Of course, Timms isn’t exactly a one-sided character. He is an influential and well-heeled member of the community, yes. But he also has areputation as a maverick with a short fuse and an interest in young women. He’s in his forties, blond, good-looking, well built, twice divorced, and something of a playboy. According to the local gossip, he occasionally veers to the wild side.
Of course, you can’t believe everything you hear: gossip is one of the worst small-town vices, and in this case, I imagine there’s some envy in the mix. But there’s an abundance of rumors floating around, mostly about parties at a place Timms owns in the Hill Country. And it didn’t take much imagination to make a connection between those rumored parties and the alleged blackmail. But how that might be connected to a break-in at a computer shop, I hadn’t a clue.
“We’re off the record, China,” Jessica went on. “You knew Kirk, and you’ve served on community projects with Timms. Can you come up with
any
possible connection—no matter how remote—between this burglary and Kirk’s… suicide?”
I heard the skepticism in her last word, but I wasn’t going to encourage her by responding to it. No, I didn’t think Larry killed himself. But, I wasn’t going to admit it—not to a reporter. If Jessica was going in that direction, she was going without me.
“Sometimes coincidences really
are
coincidences,” I said in a cautionary tone. “And anyway, just because somebody is arrested, it doesn’t automatically make him guilty. Cops have been known to make mistakes. They’re not infallible.” But a mistake was not likely in this case, I thought. The police wouldn’t risk miscalculating where a prominent citizen like George Timms was concerned.
“I didn’t say he was guilty,” Jessica retorted. “I just said he’s being arrested.”
I knew. But I also knew that once the story of Timms’ arrest appeared in the papers, the community, serving as judge and jury, wouldrender a verdict of guilty. I changed the subject. “Have you told the police what Mrs. Wauer said about that gunshot?” The officer who canvassed the neighbors would no doubt pick up the information, but that could be tomorrow. Sheila could use it this evening, when she was trying to fix the time of death.
“Not yet. Guess I’d better
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