Injustice for All
“Flipping off the droning television set, I opened the door to find two uniformed police officers standing in the hallway.
“Are you J. P. Beaumont?” the first one asked, stepping uninvited through my open door. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and chewed a cud of gum with unbridled enthusiasm.
“Yes. What do you want?”
The second officer was heavyset: not fat, but with a definite paunch. “You know a lady named Mona Larson?”
“Yes, I do. What’s up?”
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
“I don’t know. What time is it?”
The one in glasses looked at his watch. “Eight-thirty,” he said, wrapping the gum around the tip of his tongue and giving it a small, interior pop. “I saw her about sixthirty. She said she had some things to do.” “Did she say what?”
I shook my head. “No.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
9 / 10
User Reviews: