Hotline to Murder

listeners. Maybe she could figure out who it was.
    It wasn’t until an hour later that all three of them were off the phones at the same time. Tony didn’t want to hear any more talk about Nathan’s church, so he told them about the call from the former listener.
    “You were here a year ago,” Tony said to Shahla. “Does my description ring any bells with you?”
    “No. But of course we don’t know all the other listeners. Gail is the best bet because she knows them all.”
    “That’s what I thought, too.”
    “From what you said about him, I sense hostility,” Nathan said, looking out the window rather than at them. “He’s one of those people who never quite fit in. He’s a little bit different, a little bit odd. He doesn’t get the girls. Of course, he blames them for his problems. And you have to admit that some of the girls here are stuck up.”
    “Does that make him a candidate for murder?” Tony asked.
    “It might. It depends on how bad it gets and how long it lasts. The feelings of anger and alienation build up inside him until they reach a flash point. And then…pow.”
    “Pow,” Shahla said, “meaning…?”
    “Anything can happen. But he’ll feel justified in whatever he does. Because he was wronged.”
    Tony winced. “So people like this stockpile guns and ammunition and then one fine day they walk into the place where they experienced humiliation and shoot everybody there.”
    “Don’t talk like that,” Shahla said, looking at the outside door apprehensively. “Is the door locked? We don’t want that guy to come busting in here.”
    Tony couldn’t remember whether he had locked it. He started to get up, but Shahla said, “No, I’ll go. I can get there in less than half an hour.”
    “That was a cruel thing to say,” Nathan said when Shahla returned and confirmed that the door was locked. “You sound like the girls the caller was talking about.”
    “I’m sorry,” Shahla said sounding sincere. She put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Tony, you know I would never humiliate you.”
    “I know,” Tony said, feeling better than he had all evening. It was amazing the power a girl could have over a man. “I just have one question. Nobody told me about the weekend orgies.”
    “You’ll only find them in your dreams,” Shahla said.

    CHAPTER 22
    Tony was feeling a little better by Tuesday evening. Some of the stiffness had left his body. His wounds were beginning to heal. He felt good enough to whip himself up a mess of spaghetti for his dinner. His Italian mother had taught him how to do it. Of course, she made her own tomato sauce, whereas Tony got his out of a bottle. He also used store-bought hamburger and spaghetti, but he added basil, oregano, and garlic, just as his mother had showed him.
    As he sipped a beer and spun the spaghetti worms (as they had seemed to him in his youth) on his fork, he remembered that he had been going to check Josh’s drawers for women’s underwear. Except that no opportunity had presented itself. Until now. This morning, Josh had said he would be home late tonight. He had some function he was going to attend, related to his job.
    Tony decided he had enough time to eat his dinner before he conducted a search. His body still complained when he tried to rush into anything. He ate all the spaghetti he could manage, saved the rest, and rinsed his dishes. Then he went upstairs to Josh’s bedroom. He opened the door and turned on the light. He remembered that if Josh came home while the light was on, he would see it as he drove into the carport, but Josh wouldn’t be home for a while. Searching with a flashlight was difficult and time consuming. Tony wanted to get this over with.
    Where should he start, amid this mess that constituted Josh’s possessions? The dresser drawers presented an obvious location to check. He would search the easy places first; he might get lucky. He quickly went through the drawers. He found socks, T-shirts, handkerchiefs, boxer shorts (one difference between him and Josh—he wore briefs), a bathing suit, a jockstrap, baggy shorts for outerwear, but nothing that a girl would consider wearing. Well, he remembered when girls had worn boxer shorts for a season, but not this size.
    The closet was next. Sweaters and sweatshirts were stacked on two shelves at the top. He checked between them and underneath them. Nothing. Dress shirts, sport shirts, sport coats were hung on hangers. Nothing unusual here. Josh had a lot