Free Muller, Marcia, [McCone 01] Edwin of the Iron Shoes(v1, shtml) Page A

breaking those windows."
    "Why do you think that?"
    "It's logical."
    "Sounds more like a woman's intuition than logic."
    I shifted on the stool and started fiddling with my hair, as I always did when angered. My fingers tangled in the ribbon, and I jerked it out savagely, letting my hair fall to my shoulders. Why did Marcus feel he must oppose everything I said?
    Keeping my voice calm, I said, "I still think that's what happened."
    "So what do you think this person wanted?"
    "I've been trying to figure that out all morning. It was either something he left behind or something he forgot to take the night before. What, I don't know."
    "Oh?" The mocking eyebrow trick again. "So you think this individual was the murderer?"
    "Yes, I do."
    "This 'he'… ever consider it might have been a she? Women commit murder, too."
    "Don't I know!" I retorted beneath my breath, but Marcus caught it and gave me his pseudo-smile.
    Returning the smile, I asked disingenuously, "What about you? What have you done that's interesting?"
    He glared at me and ground out his cigarette in the ashtray. "The possible suspects you mentioned in your statement check out clean."
    "The credit union people?"
    "Them, and the people with the free school—they've bought land elsewhere, so they're out of the running. I agree with you about the law school and the Ingalls real-estate syndicate. That leaves us with the people here in the neighborhood."
    "Wait a minute. Did your men talk with Mrs. Ingalls or the Hemphill Law School trustees?"
    He looked annoyed. "They will, if they haven't already, but it's strictly routine. There's no reason to suspect any of them, and I'd hardly want to bother such people over this murder."
    I reflected his annoyance back at him. "Why not? Are they so much better than Joan Albritton? Can't you take a few minutes of their precious time to try to find out who killed her?"
    "Now, Sharon," he said in a patronizing tone, "I agreed with your opinion. I've only so much time to waste on false leads, and I prefer to concentrate here, in the neighborhood."
    "That's the second time you've mentioned 'the neighborhood.' Is it a euphemism for someone you suspect?"
    "Could be. I hoped you'd cooperate. Are you going to be obstructive now?"
    I got down from the stool and began pacing up and down behind the counter.
    Finally I said, "I don't understand you. Is there some pressure from higher up that makes you reluctant to interrogate people in this city's so-called power structure? Or is it that you've got one idea in your head, and you're closing your eyes to all other possibilities?"
    As soon as I said it, I wished I'd phrased it more tactfully. Marcus went rigid, and for a moment he didn't speak. Then he leaned forward and said in a hard voice,
    "Watch it, Ms. McCone. You're here only because I say so, you know."
    "My boss was Joan Albritton's attorney, and this inventory is within the scope of my duties."
    "I said, watch it. You have an unusual interest in this murder. If Zahn didn't vouch for you, I'd say you were protecting someone."
    I stared at him. "Who do you have in mind?"
    "This Cornish fellow, for one. I understand you're pretty chummy with him, paid him a visit last night."
    His words brought me up short. After a few seconds, I asked, "Are you having me followed?"
    "Of course not. But I have my sources." He got up and stood across the counter from me, looking smug.
    "I have a right to visit anyone I want to." My voice shook with rage.
    "Not if you're obstructing a police investigation, you don't."
    I stood, staring at him, unable to speak. Marcus's glance moved from my face, down my body, to my hands. I looked down, too. My angry fingers had fashioned the hair ribbon I was clutching into a little noose.
    Marcus's eyes traveled slowly back to my face. "You aren't too good at covering up your emotions, are you?" He paused, then leaned closer, his face set. "Now, I have something to tell you, Ms. McCone, and I want you to listen carefully. You