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Demon Child

Demon Child

Titel: Demon Child Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Dean Koontz
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house.”
        “That blows everything,” the plainclothes policeman on the couch said. He slapped his notebook shut.
        “Not yet,” Maybray said. “Everyone will have to give us an alibi that checks out for the time of the murder. If nothing comes of that, then everything is blown.”
        “When was it?” Jenny asked.
        Maybray said, “Between twelve-thirty and two o'clock, the coroner says.” She realized that the detective was still watching her intently.
        “I ate a light snack at about a quarter past twelve,” Jenny said. “I ate in the kitchen and talked with Anna until one.”
        “Then?”
        “Then I went to the library and sat with Dr. Hobarth until just a few minutes before two o'clock. He had invited me to sit through a session of his analysis of Freya. The session went badly. I was upset and went directly to my room afterwards.”
        “She was in her room at two, like she says,” Harold verified.
        “Is that so?” Maybray asked in a tone of voice that said he was not to be convinced without facts.
        “Yes,” Harold said, unruffled by the policeman's gruff ways, “I came out of Cora's room after delivering a late lunch tray. I saw Jenny going in her own room and closing the door. She didn't come back downstairs in the next half hour, at least, for I was polishing the stair railings during that time.”
        “Am I-clear?” Jenny asked.
        “As spring water,” Maybray said.
        “It was a wolf, then,” the second officer said. “I said right from the beginning that it wasn't murder.”
        Detective Maybray turned to Richard. “Do you still believe it was something other than a wild wolf?”
        Richard sighed and relaxed against the well-cushioned back of the easy chair. “I don't know. I've been so very sure- There have been so many strange things happening. But maybe the wolf is real. Maybe it is a coincidence that makes the rest of these things seem phony when they aren't. I just can't say any more.”
        “Well,” Maybray said, “we'll get the cook and Mrs. Brucker in here and see if they're vouched for.”
        “I can vouch for Anna,” Harold said. “And if you take a look at all she's cooked today, you'll see she couldn't have left the house for a moment.”
        In a short while, Maybray had interviewed Cora and Walter and had ascertained that they were as solidly alibied as everyone else. His manner with them was as cool and probing as it had been with Jenny, It was as if he hoped to frighten someone into saying something they otherwise would have kept to themselves.
        “The first thing to be done,” Maybray said, speaking more civilly now that he knew everyone in the room was trustworthy, “is to organize a hunting party for the wolf. Heaven knows what has driven it down into more civilized parts. But it must be caught. I'll detail two troopers to be here in the morning, along with their academy mounts. If you could put together some of the area people, your neighbors, to augment a search party, the beast should be routed in a day.”
        “It can be done,” Richard said.
        “I'd ask you, also, to contact Gabe Atchison and see about getting him and his hounds here. You know him?”
        “Yes,” Richard said. “I've been to the yearly country club fox hunt once or twice.”
        “In the morning, then,” Maybray said. He nodded politely to everyone seated around and stalked out of the room.
        Richard and the second, still unnamed policeman, followed on his heels.
        “I'll get some coffee,” Anna said. “And some rolls.”
        She left the room with her husband trailing after her.
        “It's just horrible,” Cora said. “That poor Mr. Symington, torn apart like that.”
        “It always seems,” Walter mused, “that the right things are never done until a tragedy points the way. There should have been a hunt for the wolf when the dead rabbits began showing up. And surely there should have been one after Hollycross was killed. Anyway, all this will be better after tomorrow. If we have a dead wolf to show Freya, it's going to take some of the drive out of her ingrained fantasies.”
        “I'm not so sure,” Jenny said. She had just had a dreadful thought, one that left her more shaken than ever.
        “But she can't have killed Symington while the demon possessed her,” Hobarth said, amused at such concepts. “For one thing, she wasn't in a coma this

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