warming toward her.
God, she reminds me of Lynda . He gave himself a mental shake and focused his attention on Gus.
“I’m sorry,” Krystal continued. “Every time I think about my mother guzzling out of that whiskey bottle, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
“I understand,” Gus said. “You don’t have to go into any more detail. I take it seeing your mother drinking out of the bottle was what prompted you to rush at her the way you did?”
Krystal nodded. “I was trying to get the bottle away from her,” she said and sobbed brokenly.
Gus, scribbling rapidly in his notebook, nodded. “Okay, I don’t think we need to go into that any further. What about after you left the flea market? Did you come straight back to the apartment?” Gus spoke in a low, reassuring voice but it was obvious he intended to get a tight fix on the time she spent out at Indian Creek.
Krystal nodded. “I didn’t want anyone to see me. As soon as I had composed myself, I drove home. I talked to Penny for a few minutes, then I took a couple of sleeping pills and went to bed.”
“You were home when she got here?” Gus turned to Penny.
She nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Krissie come home, cry long time. She take pills. Sleep all night.”
“I see.” Gus turned back to Krystal. “I wonder if you can help me fix the times. Kelly here thought it was about five when you had your encounter with Anna. Does that seem right?”
“I guess so. I didn’t really notice. It was after four when I got to the flea market but it took me awhile to get the courage to approach my mother. Why? Is it important?”
Gus ignored the question. “Do you remember what time you got home?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t drive at first. I sat in the car and cried.”
Gus looked at Penny.
Keeping her eyes on the floor she said. “I look at clock very much. Seven o’clock, Krissie come home.”
Gus sat forward in the chair and spoke to both of them. “Then you spent the evening at home, is that right?”
“I think it was about eight-thirty when I went to bed.” Krystal’s voice was strained but she answered without hesitation. “I got up once to go to the bathroom. Penny was watching television.”
“Is that right?” Gus turned to Penny. “You spent the entire evening watching television?”
Penny bobbed her head up and down. “I am quiet. Watch television very late. Maybe three in morning.”
“Then you confirm Miss Davis’ statement that she was home all night.”
“Krissie sleep long time. No get up.”
“Well, you’ve both been very helpful. Now, there’s just one more thing. I wonder if you could identify this.” He pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and removed the bright red scarf.
“That’s my scarf.” Krystal stretched out her hand. “I lost it at the flea market. How did you get it?”
Gus pulled his hand back. “It’s difficult to tell you this,” he said, keeping his voice low. “But it can’t be helped. I’m afraid I’ll have to keep the scarf for a while because the murderer used it to strangle Mrs. Davis.”
Krystal gasped and dropped her head. Blond hair spilled forward and covered her face. She didn’t make a sound but her shoulders started shaking.
Penny jumped up and ran to her side. “No, Krissie. Not your fault. You lose scarf.”
Krystal lifted her head and stared at Gus. Her eyes were watery and her voice trembled. “That filthy little man who was talking to my mother—the one who gave her the whiskey. Maybe he took it.”
“What man? Can you describe him?”
“I didn’t really look at him. He smelled like fish. He was short and his legs were bowed. I don’t remember his face. I just didn’t notice. I was looking at my mother.”
Gus shifted himself out of the armchair. “You’ve been very helpful. I’m sorry we had to stir up unhappy memories but I appreciate your frankness. I’ll leave my card and if you think of anything
God, she reminds me of Lynda . He gave himself a mental shake and focused his attention on Gus.
“I’m sorry,” Krystal continued. “Every time I think about my mother guzzling out of that whiskey bottle, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
“I understand,” Gus said. “You don’t have to go into any more detail. I take it seeing your mother drinking out of the bottle was what prompted you to rush at her the way you did?”
Krystal nodded. “I was trying to get the bottle away from her,” she said and sobbed brokenly.
Gus, scribbling rapidly in his notebook, nodded. “Okay, I don’t think we need to go into that any further. What about after you left the flea market? Did you come straight back to the apartment?” Gus spoke in a low, reassuring voice but it was obvious he intended to get a tight fix on the time she spent out at Indian Creek.
Krystal nodded. “I didn’t want anyone to see me. As soon as I had composed myself, I drove home. I talked to Penny for a few minutes, then I took a couple of sleeping pills and went to bed.”
“You were home when she got here?” Gus turned to Penny.
She nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Krissie come home, cry long time. She take pills. Sleep all night.”
“I see.” Gus turned back to Krystal. “I wonder if you can help me fix the times. Kelly here thought it was about five when you had your encounter with Anna. Does that seem right?”
“I guess so. I didn’t really notice. It was after four when I got to the flea market but it took me awhile to get the courage to approach my mother. Why? Is it important?”
Gus ignored the question. “Do you remember what time you got home?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t drive at first. I sat in the car and cried.”
Gus looked at Penny.
Keeping her eyes on the floor she said. “I look at clock very much. Seven o’clock, Krissie come home.”
Gus sat forward in the chair and spoke to both of them. “Then you spent the evening at home, is that right?”
“I think it was about eight-thirty when I went to bed.” Krystal’s voice was strained but she answered without hesitation. “I got up once to go to the bathroom. Penny was watching television.”
“Is that right?” Gus turned to Penny. “You spent the entire evening watching television?”
Penny bobbed her head up and down. “I am quiet. Watch television very late. Maybe three in morning.”
“Then you confirm Miss Davis’ statement that she was home all night.”
“Krissie sleep long time. No get up.”
“Well, you’ve both been very helpful. Now, there’s just one more thing. I wonder if you could identify this.” He pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and removed the bright red scarf.
“That’s my scarf.” Krystal stretched out her hand. “I lost it at the flea market. How did you get it?”
Gus pulled his hand back. “It’s difficult to tell you this,” he said, keeping his voice low. “But it can’t be helped. I’m afraid I’ll have to keep the scarf for a while because the murderer used it to strangle Mrs. Davis.”
Krystal gasped and dropped her head. Blond hair spilled forward and covered her face. She didn’t make a sound but her shoulders started shaking.
Penny jumped up and ran to her side. “No, Krissie. Not your fault. You lose scarf.”
Krystal lifted her head and stared at Gus. Her eyes were watery and her voice trembled. “That filthy little man who was talking to my mother—the one who gave her the whiskey. Maybe he took it.”
“What man? Can you describe him?”
“I didn’t really look at him. He smelled like fish. He was short and his legs were bowed. I don’t remember his face. I just didn’t notice. I was looking at my mother.”
Gus shifted himself out of the armchair. “You’ve been very helpful. I’m sorry we had to stir up unhappy memories but I appreciate your frankness. I’ll leave my card and if you think of anything
Similar Books
