Tony Dunbar - Tubby Dubonnet 03 - Trick Question by Tony Dunbar Page B
Authors: Tony Dunbar
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Busters again and then probably just go fishing and think about the problem.” And about that damn Harold. And about Debbie. “Cherrylynn can take messages.”
His secretary just shook her head.
CHAPTER 17
Cletus Busters was a little happier on the second visit because Tubby brought him a pack of Camels and a lighter.
He lit up immediately and, between long puffs, asked Tubby how the case was coming. Tubby told him what they had done and whom they had talked to.
“Doesn’t sound like much,” was Busters’s comment.
Tubby ignored him. “Were you working the Friday before you found Valentine’s body?” he asked.
“I work every night but Saturday,” Busters said, blowing a thin stream of smoke past Tubby’s right ear.
“The coroner believes that Dr. Valentine’s body had to be put into the freezer on Friday, or even earlier in the week, to freeze as solid as it did.”
“So what you want to know?”
“First, did you see anything unusual on Friday, or earlier in the week?”
“No.”
“Think about it. Can you remember anything on that Friday?”
“Not especially.”
“Work backwards in your mind from the Sunday night you found the body. Can you remember what you did Sunday during the day, before you went to work?”
“Yes.” But Cletus didn’t offer to say what he could recall.
After letting the pause linger, Tubby prompted him further.
“How about the Saturday before you found the body, and the Friday before that?”
“It don’t come to mind. One day’s just like another.”
“Did you see anybody else in the laboratory when you were working?”
“Maybe one of the other doctors, like Dr. Tessier. They is there sometimes on a weeknight. You don’t ever see them in there on a Sunday.”
“Did you see one of them on the night before your arrest?”
“No.”
This was a waste of time.
“The police found some drugs, some barbiturates, at your house. They came from the hospital.”
“So?”
“Come on, Cletus. It would help if you would open up to your lawyer just a little bit.”
“Do they say I took that stuff from the hospital?”
“Yes sir,” Tubby said patiently. “That’s exactly what they say. What do you say?”
“They planted it.” Cletus rocked back and forth and sucked deeply on his Camel.
Tubby just stared at him.
“Tell me about the cures you do for people.”
“Say what?” Cletus’s chair came back down to the floor with a loud clank.
“You know, the ritual services you do. Are they for healing people or, like, to cast spells? Come on, tell me.”
Cletus looked at him in disbelief. Tubby thought he was going to get up and leave.
“Who you been talking to?” he demanded.
“Your neighbors, for Christ’s sake, Cletus. What is it with you? You don’t care if they kill you? Do you have some foolproof escape planned? Is that the reason you won’t talk to me?”
“I don’t like people getting into my business,” Cletus shouted.
Outside the window, the guard showed his face. Tubby waved him away.
“Isn’t that kind of a free-world luxury? You’re in jail, and they tell you when to eat, sleep, and take a crap. They know what chemicals are in your urine. You’re in danger of being strapped to a hospital gurney and getting an IV needle full of sandman drops stuck right up your business. It takes about a minute for it to work before your brain shuts off, and you can take your secrets into the next world with you.”
“I don’t fear the grave.”
“Then I won’t feel so bad about losing your case, but it’s a shame, don’t you think, to let somebody get away with murdering Dr. Valentine?”
Busters lit another cigarette and thought things over.
“I’d rather die some other way,” he conceded.
“Sure you would,” Tubby encouraged him.
“I have powers that was taught to me. I can cure people and tell you what fork in the road will lead you where you want to go. I can also help you with your love problems.”
“All right.
His secretary just shook her head.
CHAPTER 17
Cletus Busters was a little happier on the second visit because Tubby brought him a pack of Camels and a lighter.
He lit up immediately and, between long puffs, asked Tubby how the case was coming. Tubby told him what they had done and whom they had talked to.
“Doesn’t sound like much,” was Busters’s comment.
Tubby ignored him. “Were you working the Friday before you found Valentine’s body?” he asked.
“I work every night but Saturday,” Busters said, blowing a thin stream of smoke past Tubby’s right ear.
“The coroner believes that Dr. Valentine’s body had to be put into the freezer on Friday, or even earlier in the week, to freeze as solid as it did.”
“So what you want to know?”
“First, did you see anything unusual on Friday, or earlier in the week?”
“No.”
“Think about it. Can you remember anything on that Friday?”
“Not especially.”
“Work backwards in your mind from the Sunday night you found the body. Can you remember what you did Sunday during the day, before you went to work?”
“Yes.” But Cletus didn’t offer to say what he could recall.
After letting the pause linger, Tubby prompted him further.
“How about the Saturday before you found the body, and the Friday before that?”
“It don’t come to mind. One day’s just like another.”
“Did you see anybody else in the laboratory when you were working?”
“Maybe one of the other doctors, like Dr. Tessier. They is there sometimes on a weeknight. You don’t ever see them in there on a Sunday.”
“Did you see one of them on the night before your arrest?”
“No.”
This was a waste of time.
“The police found some drugs, some barbiturates, at your house. They came from the hospital.”
“So?”
“Come on, Cletus. It would help if you would open up to your lawyer just a little bit.”
“Do they say I took that stuff from the hospital?”
“Yes sir,” Tubby said patiently. “That’s exactly what they say. What do you say?”
“They planted it.” Cletus rocked back and forth and sucked deeply on his Camel.
Tubby just stared at him.
“Tell me about the cures you do for people.”
“Say what?” Cletus’s chair came back down to the floor with a loud clank.
“You know, the ritual services you do. Are they for healing people or, like, to cast spells? Come on, tell me.”
Cletus looked at him in disbelief. Tubby thought he was going to get up and leave.
“Who you been talking to?” he demanded.
“Your neighbors, for Christ’s sake, Cletus. What is it with you? You don’t care if they kill you? Do you have some foolproof escape planned? Is that the reason you won’t talk to me?”
“I don’t like people getting into my business,” Cletus shouted.
Outside the window, the guard showed his face. Tubby waved him away.
“Isn’t that kind of a free-world luxury? You’re in jail, and they tell you when to eat, sleep, and take a crap. They know what chemicals are in your urine. You’re in danger of being strapped to a hospital gurney and getting an IV needle full of sandman drops stuck right up your business. It takes about a minute for it to work before your brain shuts off, and you can take your secrets into the next world with you.”
“I don’t fear the grave.”
“Then I won’t feel so bad about losing your case, but it’s a shame, don’t you think, to let somebody get away with murdering Dr. Valentine?”
Busters lit another cigarette and thought things over.
“I’d rather die some other way,” he conceded.
“Sure you would,” Tubby encouraged him.
“I have powers that was taught to me. I can cure people and tell you what fork in the road will lead you where you want to go. I can also help you with your love problems.”
“All right.
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