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Kill Me Deadly Introduction	Kill Me Deadly Introduction
Kill Me Deadly	Kill Me Deadly

It was a cold winter Day just before Christmas. I spent the morning ice skating on the frozen Westlake, then drove my beat up Green Ford a hundred and sixty

Miles back to the city. I found a place to Parker, and walked down the Block to my office.

They were waiting outside the frosted Glass door. A Bland older man Holden up a rather Moody young woman. She was hysterical, and he could barely Handler.

"Who are you and what do you want?" I said.

He stuck out his hand. "I'm Henry Lee Oliver Abbott Phillips Estleman," he said. "And this is my daughter, Pat. She's been accused of murder."

I sized up Pat. If I were Rankin babes, she'd have been right up there. She had Zubros that wouldn't quit. And huge Pronzinis.

"A Savage crime," I said. "Who did you Slaughter?"

"They say I killed my husband."

"Did you?"

"Of course not," Crider father. "She's innocent."

"What do the police have on her?"

"She was in a production of MacBeth, playing one of the three witches. During Act II, she left the stage right in the middle of a scene, just before her husband was killed."

"That's rather suspicious," I said.

"Evanovich gets tired," he said. "Will you take the case?"

"Will I have any problems checking out the crime scene?"

"The office is up a steep slope, and there's a police guard in front."

"I've never let Hillerman stop me," I said. "But if that's her story, I'm afraid I can Doolittle to help you."

I went down to the morgue, where the medical examiner was performing an autopsy on the body. He was examining the stomach contents when I came in.

"What did you find, doc?" I asked him.

The medical examiner shook his head. "This guy had very bad eating habits. He ate way too much fatty food. And he didn't chew his Cornwell."

"I mean how did he die?"

"Oh. He had a Gash in his head, as if he'd fallen off a Hightower. But he was probably just hit on the head. Haywood you like to see me Ripley liver out?"

"I think I'll pass," I said. "I'm going to Mosley on down and check out the alibis."

Driving to the the victim's office, I put the pedal to the Flora, and thought about my client. I had time to Muller story over. I didn't like it.

I didn't like her husband's business partner, either. Vinnie the Rat was a nasty little man with a deep suntan, what I call a Tanny. In the dead of winter, if Furutani, you're pretty affected. He also had a record a mile long for Grafton vice.

When I got to the office, Vinnie was ranting and raving and chewing out the typists. "You guys are terrible," he complained. "You don't know how to type. You've got to use your space bar Les, Roberts. And Leonard's gotta use his Elmore."

I flashed my ID, took Vinnie off to the side, and proceeded to grill him.

"What were you doing when your partner was killed?" I asked.

Vinnie seemed nervous. "I was laid up in bed," he said. "I was walking in the meadow. I got a thorn in my foot, and a horrible Neibuhr."

"How could you do that?" I pointed out. "There's snow on the ground."

"Okay, so I was watching the Winter Olympics on TV," Vinnie countered.

"Oh yeah?" I said suspiciously. "What event were you watching?"

"The women's giant slalom. I tell you, those girls are good. Boy could that lady from Kijewski."

"Oh, yeah?" I snorted. "I've seen a Paretsky better than that."

"Is that so?" he retorted. "Well, I've seen an ordinary Zukowski better than either of them."It was one of his Snyder comments.

"None of your Lippman," I said. "Tell me why you killed your partner or I'll grab you by the Napier neck. Believe me, that'll Hertel."

He began to cry. "Go easy on me. I've had a hard life. I used to be a Farmer back on the old Olmstead. One day my wife Nan and I were in the cattle Barnes, Brandon a Heffernan bought in the auction. I was just reaching for her when she Riordan kicked me. I've had headaches ever since."

He Fennelly ran out of steam.

"Yeah?" I said. "So what's that blood on your shirt."

"I was run over by a Hess truck."

I just looked at him.

When he saw I wasn't buying it, he broke down. "All right," he said. "Please. Lemme Spillaine. I was drunk. I wasn't driving well. I was in the wrong Lehane. I had an accident. But I didn't kill my partner."

"Then how did he die?"

"Actually, he killed himself."

"Oh, come on."

"No, it's true. He electrocuted himself by accident. He was rewiring his office. They told him to run AC current, but he Randisi. Fried himself to a crisp."

"Nice try," I told him. "But he was killed by a blow to the head. I think you just gave yourself away."

"Well, you'll never take me alive," Vinnie cried. With that, he whipped out a single shot Dentinger and pulled the Trigoboff.

Luckily, it was defective. I disarmed him, and called a Kopp. Officers McClendon and McDermid McNabbed him, and he took the McFall.

And that wrapped up the case. I never saw Pat again. And I never got paid. Her father left a Chittenden didn't pay it. Par for the course. I always seem to Pickard cases.

As for Pat.

I unwrapped a Clark bar, and walked on down the street.