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- Herausgeber: Black Cat Weekly
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Homicide Detective Olivia Addington has investigated some tough cases in her time. Now the death of a scam artist in the home of a frail, retired professor of Latin hinges on a chilling clue Addington and her officer-in-training, Sanford, almost missed: a jagged piece of broken crystal.
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Seitenzahl: 26
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
THE CRYSTAL GOBLET, by Brian Rieselman
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2024 by Brian Rieselman.
Published by Black Cat Weekly.
blackcatweekly.com
THE CRYSTAL GOBLET,by Brian Rieselman
Two in the morning. The cut-rate, once opulent Marshland Condominium Complex, with its rust-stained empty pool and faded For Sale signs. Rooted precariously in the earth, like the noxious weeds taking over these older urban subdivisions you saw up and down Michigan freeways.
Police Detective Olivia Addington, twenty years on the force, eleven of them with Parkerdoons Homicide, checked her revolver in a side-holster beneath her blue blazer. Tucked an errant lank of golden-brown hair behind an ear. Headed in with a uniformed officer she’d been training. Young guy named Sanford, tall and capable, solidly built. Two EMTs, men in their forties, tattoos on beefy arms, exited the ambulance and followed quickly.
The 9-1-1 dispatcher was a talkative type, able to provide more information than Olivia usually received on these calls. A neighbor of the inquisitive sort, so often helpful, heard shouting in the split-level unit next door to hers. A terrible argument. The sound of breaking glass. Then a crash. Then silence.
Luna Horner’s call to 9-1-1 wasn’t the first reporting some kind of trouble going on at Marshland tonight. Her neighbor in question, Henry Korman, had already placed the call for an ambulance. There had been an accident, he reported. In his unit. Someone was hurt bad.
Someone was possibly dead.
Hurry.
Now Luna peered through her door, opened a crack. Waving at Olivia. Pointing at Henry’s door.
“In there,” Luna whispered, mascara-rimmed eyes widening. “Fighting. I heard bumps, crashes!”
“Can I visit with you a little later, after I check in on your neighbor?” Olivia promised Luna it wouldn’t be long.
Olivia knocked on Henry’s door as Luna’s door closed, and he answered immediately. He was short, slight as a sparrow, with a white toothbrush-style little mustache. “Oh, thank God you’re here. A young man has fallen down my stairwell. Intoxicated or something.”
The EMTs rushed past her, lugging equipment. She showed him her badge.
The place was sparsely furnished, though an impressive bust of the Roman emperor Hadrian was prominent near the interior stairway of the split-level condo unit. Olivia was an avid reader of history. The floor was strewn with stacks of books. Henry showed no apparent signs of injury. The man at the bottom of the stairs did.
He was dead, his neck broken. Sanford and Olivia exchanged a glance over the corpse. The EMTs, having assured themselves the guy was dead, stood back.
His driver’s license and photo identified him as Jeffrey Maxwell. A name that rang a bell.
“Was Jeffrey a close friend?” Olivia asked Henry. She gestured to Sandford. He started looking around, took some pictures. The EMTs sipped from their water bottles, waiting word about where to take the corpse.
“No...”
“Can we sit down upstairs and talk for a bit. I know you’re probably shaken up about this, Mr. Korman.”
“You can call me Henry, Detective.”
“How long have you known Mr. Maxwell?”
