The Wind Chill Factor
“He asked Bradlee where the body was and I followed them up the stairway. Paula was staying in the library. Peterson was of medium height, wore a rust-colored suede trench coat cut elegantly with a few strategically placed button flaps. He was dark, almost swarthy, more like a figure from the Levantine than from the fjords. He had a thick black mustache which curled down around the corners of his mouth. He was not at all what I had expected.
Standing in the master bedroom again, I watched him su...rvey the scene with his chin cupped in a dark, hairy hand. His spatulate fingers were well manicured. He’d opened his trench coat, revealing a navy-blue fisherman’s sweater underneath and a yellow shirt collar poking up against his chin. He had a very short, thick neck.
“Your brother,” he said.
I nodded.
“You found the body,” he said. “You didn’t move anything.”
I nodded.
“Miss Smithies—” He paused. He looked at Bradlee. “What was her late husband’s name? Phillips?”
Doctor Bradlee nodded.MoreLess
Standing in the master bedroom again, I watched him su...rvey the scene with his chin cupped in a dark, hairy hand. His spatulate fingers were well manicured. He’d opened his trench coat, revealing a navy-blue fisherman’s sweater underneath and a yellow shirt collar poking up against his chin. He had a very short, thick neck.
“Your brother,” he said.
I nodded.
“You found the body,” he said. “You didn’t move anything.”
I nodded.
“Miss Smithies—” He paused. He looked at Bradlee. “What was her late husband’s name? Phillips?”
Doctor Bradlee nodded.MoreLess
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