The Bessie Blue Killer. Richard A. Lupoff

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СКАЧАТЬ project, mechanical failure, equipment loss, public liability, we have to pay.”

      “Just like Lloyds of London.”

      “Close enough.”

      “I guess you’re in trouble, then, with Mr. McKinney.”

      “I don’t know. I’ll have to study the case folder, then get together with Mueller. What happened to—the victim? And what’s the matter with his hand?”

      “What happened, almost certainly, was a monkey wrench. Come on over here.”

      The wrench lay a few yards from the body. It had been marked off with white tape, too. The wrench was made of some dark metal, maybe cast iron, and its head was discolored with the same red goo that had seeped into the cavity in the middle of Leroy McKinney’s forehead.

      “It’ll be bagged and taken away and tested,” High said. “If we’re lucky we might get some useful fingerprints off it. And we’ll compare the blood from the wrench and from the victim, run a genetic scan just to make sure. But I’d give big odds that we’ll get a match.”

      “Do you know…?” Lindsey asked half a question.

      “What? Who, when, why, how? You know us, Lindsey. There’s not much difference between a detective and a newspaper reporter. Speaking of which, the Oakland Trib was already here, reporter and photog, and Channel 2. Ask me an easy one.”

      Lindsey said, “Okay. Who found the body?”

      High nodded toward the office where the uniformed sergeant and the civilians were still huddled over the metal desk. “Mr. Crump and Mrs. Chandler.”

      Lindsey studied the trio as best he could. The male civilian was wearing a leather jacket like a World War II aviator. Lindsey saw that he was gray-haired, like the murder victim. He was nodding and gesturing in response to the police sergeant’s questions.

      Lindsey said, “Did they do it?”

      High managed a small laugh. “That would make things easy, wouldn’t it? I don’t know who did it. My guess is, somebody who was known to the victim. Look at that. Hit him right between the eyes, no sign of a struggle. How could somebody get that close, with a heavy wrench in his hand, and the victim not try to fight back, not try to escape, not even put up his hands to ward off the blow?”

      Lindsey forced himself to look at the corpse again, then waited for High to resume.

      “The body was already cold and rigor had set in when our kids got here. So McKinney had to be dead several hours when Chandler and Crump found him. Unless they killed him and stood around for five or six hours before they phoned it in. Which, I’ll admit, is not impossible. We’ll have to check whereabouts. There’s not much security around here, like there is over at the passenger terminal. But I think we’re looking at a third party.”

      Lindsey peered through the glass at Chandler and Crump and the police officer. He said, “Still, who are they?”

      “He’s our movie star. Lawton Crump. One of the original Tuskegee airmen. You ever hear of the Tuskegee airmen?”

      Lindsey moved his head uncertainly. “Might have seen something about them. I think it was on PBS. I don’t watch much PBS.”

      High said, “Yeah. World War II outfit.”

      Lindsey said, “He’s still got his jacket.”

      High grinned. “Hardly any Negro combat troops at the start of the war. Mostly they used them for service troops. Cooks, laundry, mechanics. You know. There was a lot of agitation to let Negroes fight. We had a whole Nisei brigade, and the Japs were the enemy. The blacks had been here for hundreds of years, why couldn’t they fight for their country?”

      Lindsey shook his head. “You tell me.”

      “Somebody even got the cockeyed idea that Negroes could learn to fly airplanes and go into combat. So they set up this segregated training base in Alabama, and pumped out whole units of black fliers. Called them Tuskegee airmen. Now they want to make a movie about them. Times change.”

      “And Mr. Crump was one of the Tuskegee airmen?”

      “Pleasant, soft-spoken elderly gentleman of the colored persuasion.” High nodded toward the office again. Through the windows it appeared that Crump and the uniformed police sergeant were concluding their business. “Flew everything we had. Or so I’m told. It was before my time, Lindsey.”

      “And the woman?” Lindsey asked.

      “Mrs. Chandler? She’s from Double Bee Enterprises. They’re the outfit making the movie.”

      “I don’t see any cameras. Or any airplanes, for that matter.”

      “They haven’t arrived yet. You’ll have to get the details from Mrs. Chandler or Mr. Crump. She’s the producer, he’s their technical advisor. In fact, I think the movie’s pretty much about him. But they’re merely the advance party. McKinney was a janitor here. We have to find out what he was doing in this hangar. The maintenance boss vouches for him—that he’s legitimate. But he wasn’t scheduled to be working in this building. The signs are that he was killed here, not just brought here and dumped. So—what’s the story?”

      Lindsey grinned. “You’re the Hawkshaw, Doc. You tell me.”

      High shrugged. “I’ll tell you this. Mrs. Chandler and Mr. Crump found him. They arrived at the building together. Crump spotted the body first and got a good look at it, then he called us. He’s really upset.”

      “I don’t blame him.” Lindsey shuddered.

      Inside the office the sergeant and the two civilians rose and headed toward the door, back into the hangar. Simultaneously, a coroner’s squad lifted the remains of Leroy McKinney onto a folding gurney and headed out of the hangar.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      Mother sounded nervous and Lindsey apologized for leaving the house without telling her, but all in all she handled it pretty well. No hysterics, no confusion, no allusions to Lindsey’s long-dead father as if he were alive and expected home at any moment.

      Lindsey explained that he’d been called out of Walnut Creek by a work emergency and he’d be home in a few hours.

      Mother had dressed and breakfasted and was waiting for Mrs. Hernández to come and take her shopping. She was so happy that her son was home from Colorado, she wanted to make a big dinner just for him.

      Lindsey told her that he’d promised to have dinner with Marvia Plum in Berkeley.

      Mother said, “Oh, that nice colored girl. Well, she can come and eat at our house. She can sit right at the table with us.”

      Lindsey pressed his hand to his forehead. He was phoning from the same desk where Lawton Crump had given his statement to Sergeant Finnerty. The evidence squad were packing their gear, preparing to leave the airport. Mr. Crump was gone, Doc High was gone, and Lindsey was going to have the pleasure of breakfasting with Elmer Mueller while they went over the contents of the Bessie Blue case folder.

      Mueller insisted on their taking the Cadillac over to СКАЧАТЬ