Ice Lake: A gripping crime debut that keeps you guessing until the final page. John Lenahan A

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       Chapter 4

      The spring-fed lake was icy and Harry wished the inflatable water lounger that he found under the deck had more air in it. After unsuccessfully trying to travel feet first in the direction of the four women floating about a hundred feet out, he turned his under-inflated vessel and paddled backwards with more steam.

      “You’re about halfway there,” he heard MK call. “A little more starboard, sailor.”

      Harry looked over his shoulder, almost tipping himself overboard, and adjusted his trajectory. The four women were all on identical water loungers that were far more luxurious than his. Theirs had high backs and sunken cupholders in the armrests and were tied together with rope around a central floating ice chest.

      A large woman with scraggly grey hair and an orange one-piece bathing suit was unceremoniously trying to untie herself from the rest. Harry heard her saying: “Well, I object.”

      “That is duly noted, Helen,” MK said.

      Helen produced a cute little canoe from under her legs and began to paddle angrily back to the shore. She stopped to point at Harry. “No offence but I’m not staying if you’re here.”

      “How could he possibly take offence from that?” the younger woman replied.

      As he watched Helen motor back to the shore, Harry asked: “Was it something I said?”

      “Don’t mind her,” the oldest woman said. “Helen has social skill problems.”

      “Yeah,” the blonde one said. “She doesn’t have any.”

      “Now, now, Helen’s not so bad. She just doesn’t like… well, people, but I’m working on her. See, floating’s supposed to be just us girls,” MK said.

      “Should I paddle back?”

      “No, I invited you and if Helen doesn’t like your company then it’s her loss. Now would you like a beer, wine, or a gin and tonic?”

      “I didn’t realize there was a full bar out here. I didn’t bring any money.”

      “I’ll put it on your tab.”

      “Beer, please.”

      MK fished a beer out of the floating cooler, twisted off the cap and handed it to Harry who again almost fell in.

      “Easy there, fella.”

      MK pointed to the floater next to her. She was an attractive woman in her fifties with black hair peppered through with grey. “This is my biggest sister, Eileen, and this,” she said pointing to the other woman, who looked a lot like MK except for the eyes, “is my next big sister, Vicky. Harry, these are the Keller girls.”

      “Ladies,” Harry said, tipping an imaginary hat.

      “So, you’re the new man next door?” Eileen said, eyeing Harry as if he was for sale. “You’ll do. How long you up fur?”

      “Don’t know, really.”

      “Harry’s a cop. He’s investigating the shooting,” MK said.

      “I’m not a cop.”

      “OK, but you’re like a cop. You’re doing cop stuff with Ed.”

      “I never said that.”

      “Oh, give me a break, Harry. This is like the first murder in forever. Ed doesn’t have time at the moment to take you to lunch for old times’ sake – you must be working on Big Bill’s murder.”

      “I guess I must be. So, did you do it?”

      MK laughed. “A floating interrogation? This must be a first.”

      “I find if my suspects are in bathing suits then they often have little to hide.”

      “Well in that case,” Vicky said suggestively, “I guess you would prefer if we were skinny floating.”

      “Since this is my first float I think we had better keep our accoutrements on.”

      “‘Accoutrements’,” Eileen sang. “MK, he’s a fancy one.”

      “So, who do you think killed Big Bill?”

      “Oh, don’t ask Eileen,” Vicky said, “she’ll just blame it on Frank.”

      “Frank Thomson?” Harry turned to Eileen. “You think his brother shot him?”

      “If there is evil in the world,” Eileen said, while somehow producing a dry cigarette and lighting it with a Zippo, “then Frank is involved.”

      “Oh, don’t listen to her,” MK said. “Frank’s her ex. She’ll probably blame him for 9/11 if you ask.”

      “I didn’t see him on that day. Did any of you?”

      “Any other suspects you can think of?” Harry asked.

      “How about Vicky?” Eileen said. “She used to sleep with him.”

      “Shut up,” Vicky squealed, splashing her sister and extinguishing her cigarette.

      This instigated a splashing session that threatened to once again capsize the only male of the group.

      “You slept with all of the СКАЧАТЬ