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Detective

Detective

Titel: Detective Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Parnell Hall
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king, so the bullet was still in it. I was glad. I was running out of royalty.
    I began cutting away the material around the hole. I didn’t dig for the bullet itself, because I didn’t want to mark it with the knife. I dug out around it. Eventually I was able to pull out a wad of cotton stuffing. I spread it apart with my fingers. The bullet lay inside. I took out one of my father-in-law’s plastic bags, dropped the bullet in it, and put it in my jacket pocket.

35.
    O NE OF THE F IRST T HINGS I learned about cops was that they don’t like private detectives. At least, private detectives of my type. The reason is, a lot of the claims we investigate are against the city for which they work, and sometimes even involve negligence, or even liability, on the part of the police department itself. So I’ve never got along very well with cops.
    The desk sergeant was no exception. “You want to see who?” he said.
    I didn’t point out that he should have said “whom.”
    “I want to see the guy who’s in charge of the case of the businessman who got murdered in the midtown parking lot. I think the paper said his name was Albrect. The dead guy. Not the cop in charge.”
    “Why you wanna see him?”
    “I have something I think might be evidence.”
    “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
    “I’d like to talk to the guy in charge.”
    “You’re talking to me. What have you got?”
    “I found something in the parking lot.”
    “What?”
    “I’m not sure, but I think it might be a bullet.”
    Things happened fast. One thing that didn’t happen was my being ushered into the presence of the officer in charge of the case. Instead, I was placed in a room by myself and told in no uncertain terms not to leave. There was actually no question of my leaving, because, when I looked out in the corridor, I discovered they’d stationed an officer at the door.
    They also took my bullet. I surrendered it when asked, rather than making them frisk me for it. I wasn’t looking for trouble.
    I sat in the room for about two hours. No one came in. No one even peeked in the door.
    Then the whole world came in. First was a beefy guy who appeared to be a sergeant, and was, because when he got close enough for me to read his name tag, I discovered I’d correctly interpreted his stripes. He was followed by two junior officers and a stenographer. The stenographer sat at the table. The two younger officers stationed themselves along the walls. The sergeant drew up a chair to where I was sitting, turned it around, and put his foot up on it. He leaned in to me.
    “All right,” he said. “Why don’t you tell us about it?”
    “Tell you about what?” I asked him.
    “Don’t get cute with me, kid,” he said, flattering to a 40-year-old. “You know. About the bullet.”
    “Is it a bullet?” I asked him.
    “You know damn well it’s a bullet,” he said. “Now why don’t you tell us about it.”
    “What do you want to know?” I asked him.
    The stenographer coughed significantly. The sergeant gave him a look, but took the hint.
    “Name,” he asked.
    “Stanley Hastings.”
    “Occupation.”
    “Private detective.”
    That caught him up short. He looked at me. “What?”
    “I’m a private detective. But that’s got nothing to do with it.”
    “Is that so? Let’s see your credentials.”
    I handed him my I.D. He opened it, looked it over, then read it aloud so the stenographer could take down the information. He handed it back to me.
    “Let me see your gun permit,” he said.
    “I haven’t got a gun permit,” I told him.
    “You haven’t got a gun permit?”
    “No.”
    “How come you haven’t got a gun permit?”
    “I haven’t got a gun.”
    “Oh yeah? Well, what the hell kind of a private detective are you if you haven’t got a gun?”
    “I don’t do criminal work. I chase ambulances.”
    “Oh,” he snorted. “One of those.”
    “Yeah. One of those.”
    “Why don’t you tell us about the gun?”
    “What gun?”
    “The gun the bullet came from.”
    “I don’t know anything about any gun.”
    “I think you can do a little better than that.”
    “You think wrong. I don’t know anything about any gun. I found that bullet, if it is a bullet, in a parking lot. I found it last night. I parked my car in the lot. When I came back to get in, I saw it lying on the ground. I picked it up. It looked like a bullet. I remembered reading in the paper that a guy had been shot in that lot. I thought the bullet might

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