A Killer Past Read Free Page A

that’s gonna happen.’
    ‘With them not pressing charges, I don’t see what more we can do,’ Stewart said.
    Jack knew Stewart was right, but he also felt, if they didn’t do something, they’d be investigating a homicide in a very short time.
    ‘I think a few extra passes through that neighborhood tonight might be a good idea. Any sign of gang activity, give me a call.’
    ‘Will do, Sarge.’ Stewart stood, gave a mock salute, then headed for his desk. Jennifer stayed where she was.
    ‘That gray Chevy was still there this morning,’ she said. ‘It’s not illegally parked, but I checked the plates.’ She paused and smiled. ‘The car is owned by Harry Harrington, who just happens to be in his eighties and lives on Maple Street … two blocks away.’
     
    The telephone rang and Mary groaned as she pushed herself away from the kitchen table and the cup of tea she’d been nursing. Although she’d taken a hot bath and downed two aspirin before going to bed, she’d had a rough time getting to sleep, and so far had accomplished little since waking. She would swear every muscle in her body ached, and even though her ankle wasn’t swollen, a large black-and-blue area was forming where her shin had hit the tall one’s legs. She also had a bruise on the side of her hand, on her wrist, and partway up her right arm. The long sleeves of her bulky black turtle-neck sweater, along with her orange-colored sweatpants, covered most of the discoloration, but the areas were super-sensitive to the touch.
    And here she’d thought she was staying in shape.
    All those hours she’d spent at the gym working out on the weight machines and fast-walking – never running – on the treadmill certainly hadn’t prepared her for last night. Or maybe they had. She smiled and slowly limped toward the phone. She might be hurting, but she’d bet those boys hurt even more.
    ‘Pick on an old lady, will you,’ she muttered as she lifted the receiver.
    ‘What?’ a high-pitched, quavering voice asked on the other end of the line. ‘That you, Mary?’
    ‘It’s me, Ella,’ Mary answered and eased herself onto the stool she kept near the telephone.
    Ella Williams lived two doors down and across the street from Mary, and a call from her always turned into a long ordeal, which was why Mary kept the stool by the phone. Today she was glad she did.
    ‘Did you hear what happened last night?’ Ella said, slightly breathless.
    ‘No …’ Mary’s stomach tightened. ‘What happened?’
    ‘A couple of kids got beat up on Archer Street. Beat up bad, they say.’
    ‘How bad?’ Mary asked, hoping she hadn’t delivered any fatal blows or inflicted damage the boys couldn’t recover from.
    ‘Bad enough to put them in the hospital.’
    ‘They’re in the hospital?’
    ‘Were,’ Ella paused and yelled. ‘Cleopatra, get off the counter.’
    Mary flinched as Ella’s voice pierced her ear. Ella yelling at her cats, of which she had way too many, was a common occurrence during their telephone conversations. Best to wait, Mary had learned, until Ella took care of whatever problem the cats were causing; otherwise, she’d be talking to dead air.
    ‘Now, where was I?’ Ella said when she came back on the line.
    ‘You said the boys were in the hospital. They’re now out? They’re OK?’
    ‘I guess. Nancy’s the one who told me about the incident. I stopped at the hospital for my flu shot, and she asked if I’d heard what happened.’
    Nancy had been one of the nurses who had helped during Harry’s last days. She was a sweet woman, very caring, and she and her husband lived in the neighborhood, on the next block over. ‘Did Nancy say who attacked the boys?’ Mary asked, afraid that was the reason Ella was calling. If Ella knew she’d been involved, the whole world would soon know.
    ‘She said they kept changing their stories. First they said a woman attacked them, then they said it was a ninja, a guy all dressed in black.’
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