She Died Young
“Blackstone read the Evening News from cover to cover. Twenty minutes had passed before Jarrell, hatless and with raincoat flapping about him, strode into the bar. He greeted Blackstone, ordered lemonade and brought it to the table. Before he even sat down he said: ‘There’s been a development. I found her handbag. In the hotel. It was hidden up a chimney. We took the couple in for questioning. And now, believe it or not, he’s admitted it.’ ‘Admitted what?’ ‘Admitted he pushed her and that’s why ...she fell down the stairs.’ ‘He’s confessed? Camenzuli?’ Jarrell nodded.
‘What were they doing at the top of the stairs?’ Jarrell sat down. His movements, always jerky and angular, agitated still further Blackstone’s now-disturbed state. Jarrell seemed always impatient and in a hurry. That, Blackstone felt, was not how detectives should be. They should be methodical, their every move considered, which was more McGovern’s style.
‘I thought the wife would crack. We split them up, obviously, when we hauled them in.MoreLess
‘What were they doing at the top of the stairs?’ Jarrell sat down. His movements, always jerky and angular, agitated still further Blackstone’s now-disturbed state. Jarrell seemed always impatient and in a hurry. That, Blackstone felt, was not how detectives should be. They should be methodical, their every move considered, which was more McGovern’s style.
‘I thought the wife would crack. We split them up, obviously, when we hauled them in.MoreLess
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