been able to account for any of his movements on Saturday, from the time his wife left for work in the morning until he got back home about five o’clock in the afternoon.”
“In other words, you’d rather go looking for another suspect altogether than track on the one we already have in custody.”
“That’s right. What’s it going to hurt? It’s no skin off your teeth. Martin’s locked up tight, and it looks like he’s going to stay that way for a while. In the meantime, I want to find the real killer.”
Captain Powell shook his head in exasperation. “You are one stubborn son of a bitch, Beaumont. I’ll say that much for you.”
I took that to mean I was dismissed, so I got the hell out of there and went looking for Big Al. I found him over by the coffeepot pouring himself a fresh cup.
“Seems like you made it out with a whole skin,” he observed with a grin.
“Just barely,” I answered. “Now, what did you find out?”
“They’re in the process of running all the fingerprints through the computer. So far, Larry Martin’s are the only ones that match.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Bill Foster says he got one real good footprint.”
That got my attention. “No shit. Really?”
“Yes, from the carpet right in front of that back door. It’s a distinctive tread of some kind. He’ll let us know more as soon as he knows more.”
“Good. Let’s get out of here.”
Al followed me, coffee slopping from his Styrofoam cup. “Where are we going, and why the big hurry?”
I glanced at my watch. “We’re going to Cedar Heights. We’re already fifteen minutes late.”
“Late for what?”
“I made an appointment with Calloway, the resident manager, to take us through the building and find out if anybody saw anything.”
“Good thinking,” Al said. “We coulda done that yesterday, if I hadn’t been tied up here in the office.”
Henry Calloway was sitting in the lobby of Cedar Heights waiting for us, ready for his fleeting moment of glory. If helping us solve Dr. Frederick Nielsen’s murder was going to be his only claim to fame, he was prepared to make the most of it.
He took us up to the nineteenth floor and we worked our way back down, knocking on every door as we went. He stood in the hallways with us and personally introduced us to every resident who answered the door. Of course, there were a lot of people who weren’t home, and there were two units he skipped altogether because the residents were day sleepers who had given strict orders they were not to be disturbed.
All things considered, we could have saved ourselves the bother. Nothing came of it. The previous weekend had been one of perpetual sunlight. Everyone who had been able to do so had escaped to the mountains, the beach, anywhere but downtown Seattle.
By noon we had done Cedar Heights from top to bottom, and we’d checked up and down the block as well. To no avail. It was discouraging, but hardly surprising.
“What say we go try to track down Tom Rush?”
“Sounds good to me,” Al replied.
We drove over to Eastlake. The wooden porch in front of the Rushes’ apartment was littered with cardboard boxes, some empty, some full. I knocked on the door, and Debi Rush answered. She was crying.
“I hope you’re satisfied, you son of a bitch!” she said, when she saw who it was.. “Why? What happened?”
“I told him and he told me to get out, just like that. He says he can’t leave because it’s only a month before the end of the term, so I have to.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home to Yakima. My folks said I could come stay with them for a while.”
She left me standing by the door while she went to the couch, got a tissue, and blew her nose. Then she picked up another box and carried it out to the porch.
“Did he know or not?” I asked.
She stopped and glared at me, the two angry spots I had seen before glowing bright crimson on her cheeks. “No, he didn’t know. And he didn’t have to know, either. I never would have told him if you hadn’t made me.“
“Where’s your husband now?”
“Back at the U. He was up all night, throwing my things into boxes. He told me to pack my stuff, take the car, and be out of here by the time he gets home tonight.” She started crying again. If it was a bid for sympathy, she was barking up the wrong tree.
“Do you know how we could find him?”
“Why the hell should I help you find him?” she demanded. “Oh, all right, the dean’s office of the Dental School has his schedule. Now get out of here and leave me alone.”
We got.
“That doesn’t look so good for your theory, does it,” Al observed once we were in the car.
“What do you mean?”
“If Rush was really the killer, wouldn’t he be the one running away instead of sending his little woman packing.”
Unfortunately, Big Al’s question made a whole lot of sense.
The car sweltered in the noonday heat, and our little standard-issue departmental Dodge was without air- conditioning of any but the open-window variety. We peeled out of our jackets for as long as we were in the car, but we put them on again once we reached the university. Naturally, the only parking space available near the Health Sciences Complex was nowhere near any shade. Par for the course.
A receptionist directed us to the Dental School Dean’s Office in D-Wing, and the dean’s office passed us along to the student paging office on the fourth floor of B-Wing. We felt like a couple of rats lost in a maze, but surprisingly, the student paging system worked and worked well. Within ten minutes, we met Tom Rush on the grass outside the main hospital lobby.
“I didn’t want to talk to you in there,” he said, motioning over his shoulder toward the building. His face was flushed. His hands shook.
“I didn’t do it,” he rushed on, without waiting for us to ask. “Debi told me you thought I killed him, but I didn’t, I swear to God. I might have if I’d known, but I didn’t have the foggiest idea, not until last night. Why’d you make her tell me?”
“So we wouldn’t have to,” I told him.
He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked away from me. With his face averted, he spoke again. “At first I couldn’t believe she’d done it again. I mean, it was just like the other time. We’ve only been married a year and a half.”
“What do you mean ”the other time‘?“
“She did the same thing with the other dentist she worked for. I made her quit that job when I found out, and then she went to work for Nielsen. What does she see in those old farts?”
He moved farther away from us across the grass. I heard the other part of his question, the unspoken part. The part that said, “What’s the matter with me? Why aren’t I good enough?” I knew those questions only too well. I had asked the same ones over and over after Karen took off.
I felt sorry for Tom Rush. I noticed he hadn’t mentioned the money part, the raise Debi claimed to have gotten. I doubted she had lied to us about that. From their shabby apartment and threadbare clothes, I was sure it had taken every dime of that raise just to live and pay the bills. And I’m sure someone from the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission would have told me that this was a clear-cut case of sexual harassment and exploitation in the workplace. But still, I knew only too well what Tom was going through, and my heart went out to him.
Finally he got control of himself and came back to where Big Al and I were waiting.
“That’s why you threw her out, then?” I asked. “Because it had happened before?”
Rush nodded. “I told her then that if it ever happened again, that was it. I would’ve left last night myself, but it’s too close to the end of the term. I’ll be damned if I’m going to blow dental school at this stage!”
He paused and looked away while a look of utter desolation passed over his face. “I’ll probably take her back
