Free The Best American Mystery Stories, Volume 17 by Lisa Scottoline Page A

recorded the young man’s statement, how he hadn’t been in Jeanfreau’s for a year. As he was ending the statement, Savary casually asked, “Old man Hudson”—that’s what Lamont called him—“what did he mean when he touched his chin?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWhen he touched his chin. Was that a signal?”
    Lamont laughed. “That’s no signal. Band-Aid on his chin kept comin’ off, the old fool.”
    â€œWhen was this?”
    â€œNo time in particular. I just seen him do that.”
    Lamont added nothing else of value. Didn’t seem overly concerned about the matter. Only added, “I need your name.”
    Savary passed him a business card.
    â€œI wanna give it to the judge on this cocaine case. Show him I cooperate with the police.”
    Â 
    Savary went to the morgue early the next morning, caught pathologist Dr. Jess Gomez before the man started on his first autopsy.
    â€œGo back down to the record room,” Dr. Gomez said. “See the investigator. I usually put everything in my notes. Only put what’s pertinent in the autopsy report, but my notes are more detailed.” Savary found it an hour later. Jack Hudson had a clear Band-Aid on his chin on the day he was murdered.
    â€œAll this may be enough for an arrest warrant,” Jodie said as Savary typed out a search warrant on his computer. “It’ll sure be enough for a search warrant.”
    The right honorable Judge Marcus Summer of Criminal District Court agreed and signed the search warrant for Oris Lamont’s shotgun single house, a block off Felicity Street at the corner of Magnolia and Melpomene. The house smelled of burned cabbage and creaked heavily as the detectives and uniformed officers came through the front door. The place seemed to rock beneath their weight.
    Lamont’s mama wasn’t happy with all the police in her house and being forced to remain in the living room with her five-year-old daughter, who wore a pink dress and hugged a stuffed Sponge Bob doll.
    Savary found a Milky Way wrapper under Oris’s bed, as well as two Baby Ruth wrappers and an Almond Joy wrapper. He also found a Ruger nine-millimeter with six rounds left in a ten-round magazine under a loose floorboard beneath Oris Lamont’s single bed. His mama never saw the gun before. He looked at the little girl and those big eyes stared at the semiautomatic.
    â€œIs this your gun?” Savary asked the child.
    â€œThat Oris gun.”
    Her mother pulled her away from the detective and glared at him.
    â€œYou’re violating our rights, questioning a baby.”
    Savary gave the woman a cold smile.
    A crowd had gathered outside, kept back by two Sixth District patrol officers. Savary spotted a familiar face and went over to Reverend Milton, who moved toward him.
    â€œLet him through.”
    The reverend looked Savary in the eye, but only for a moment. He shook his head. “I figured the longer you worked on the case, the more likely you’d figure it out.”
    â€œYou knew about Oris? That he had a gun. That he did it.”
    â€œEverybody knew, ’cept y’all.” The reverend looked over at Oris’s mother, now standing on the front stoop with her little girl.
    â€œCan I go talk with her?”
    Savary nodded. “We’re leaving.”
    Reverend Milton grabbed his elbow, looked him in the eye again. “I didn’t see it happen. I mean, I didn’t know for sure, ’cept everyone said it and Oris asked me not to talk to the police. He acted real casual-like. You know what I mean.”
    Â 
    A crime lab technician took the Ruger to the lab for firearms examination to check if it matched the spent casing found at the crime scene and the bullet removed from Jack Hudson’s brain at the autopsy. Savary went back to Jeanfreau’s and checked the candy bars. The Milky Way wrapper found under Oris’s bed matched the lot