Tell It To The Birds

"Well, okay," Harmas got to his feet. "I'll see Jenson first." "Get the doctor's report about this woman. I want to be satisfied she was raped and attacked."

"It says so here, doesn't it?" Harmas pointed to the newspaper.

"Do you believe everything you read in papers?" Maddox snapped. "Get the doctor's report!"

A few minutes to nine o'clock, Anna Garvin arrived at the office. She was surprised to find Anson already at his desk.

"You're early," she said, then looked at her watch. "Or am I late?"

Anson had arrived some thirty minutes ago. He had come to the office early to disconnect the time switch clock and remove the tape on the recorder before Anna arrived.

"I'm early," he said. "Seen the paper? Barlowe's dead ... you remember ... the guy I sold that big policy to." "Yes, I saw it. It's awful, isn't it, Mr. Anson? I'm scared to go out at night." Ancon dailed the Pru Town Gazette. He asked to speak to Jeff Frisdee.

When the reporter came on the line, Anson said, "This guy Barlowe ... I sold him a fifty thousand dollar life coverage only a few days ago. I thought you might want that bit of news."

"Why, sure", Frisbee said. "Thanks a lot. Fifty thousand, huh? That's quite a hunk of dough. Well, his wife will welcome it. I'm glad you told me."

"There's been no arrest yet?" Anson asked.

"No. Jenson's going round like a zombie ... he hasn't a clue."

"How's Mrs. Barlowe?"

"Pretty bad. The doctor won't let anyone talk to her."

"If you hear anything, let me know. I'm interested as Barlowe was my client."

"Sure will. How soon will your people pay the claim?"

"Shouldn't take long."

"Let me know when they do. It's news. I'll let you know anything of interest from my end."

Anson said he would and hung up.

"How is she?" Anna asked.

"Pretty bad. This is a horrible thing. I think the least I can do is to send her some flowers. Call up Devons and tell them to send a dozen roses right away to the hospital, will you, Anna?"

Lieutenant Fred Jenson of the Brent homicide squad was a chunky, fair man with alert grey eyes and a brisk manner. He wasn't much of a policeman, but he did try and sometimes, but not often, his efforts were rewarded.

He was flicking through a file when Harmas walked in.

"Hello," he said. "What do you want?"

He had worked with Harmas in the past and the two men got along well together. Harmas sat astride a straight back chair.

"Maddox sent me down," he said. "Barlowe ... we have him covered for fifty thousand and Maddox is laying a square egg."

Jenson who knew Maddox grinned.

"Fifty thousand! I'll say the egg's square! So what? Don't tell me he's trying to make a mystery out of this one! It happened five days ago ... it's happened again. We have a sex killer in the district: it's as simple as that. Catching a punk like this isn't easy. I'm planning to plant a police officer and a girl out at Glyn Hill in the hope of trapping him."

"Maddox thinks this is a lot more complicated than that," Harmas said. "He's even thinking Mrs. Barlowe shot her husband and raped herself to collect the fifty thousand."

Jenson moved impatiently.

"Maddox is crazy!" he exclaimed. "You don't mean this seriously, do you?"

Harmas shrugged.

"When can you talk to Mrs. Barlowe?"

"Doctor Henry at the hospital said I could call him around six o'clock. He thought she might be ready to be interviewed by then."

"I'd like to come along. I won't be in the way. Maddox wants me to be around and help where I can. Fifty grand is lots of folding money."

"Okay. You help me ... I'll help you, but Maddox is just shooting at the moon."

"Yeah ... I've said time and time again that he's shooting at the moon, then what happens? The sonofabitch hits the moon!"

Jenson looked sharply at him.

"You don't really think Mrs. Barlowe is involved in this killing?"

"I'll tell you after I have talked to her," Harmas said "I'll be happier too, when I have talked to Doctor Henry."

"This is wasting time. This killer hit her so hard that he dislocated her jaw. Don't tell me..."

Harmas lifted his shoulders.

"Maddox says for fifty thousand bucks, he would let anyone dislocate his jaw."

Jenson stubbed out his cigarette.

"Maddox! The fact is he doesn't want to meet Mrs. Barlowe's claim! That's the long and short of it! He'd believe any story so long as he doesn't have to pay out and you know it."

"I guess you're right," Harmas said. "Well, I'll get along. I'll look in again around six o'clock. I want to be there when you talk to Mrs. Barlowe."

Leaving police headquarters, Harmas drove over to Anson's office.

He had met Anson once before, but had only a vague recollection of him. He knew him to be a smart salesman but that was about all he did know about him.

He found Anson at his desk. As soon as he saw him, he remembered him: a man of middle height, blond, slimly built with grey, rather staring eyes.

"Remember me?" he said, offering his hand. "Why, sure," Anson said. "It's Steve Harmas, isn't it?" He got up and shook hands, "Glad to see you. You've come about this shocking murder of Barlowe?"