Free The Phantom Photographer: Murder in Marin Mystery - Book 3 (Murder in Marin Mysteries) by Martin Brown

until Monday to find out. He placed in front of Milton, who was busy opening UPS shipments that arrived just moments after the store opened, two black and white eight by ten prints that he had made Sunday evening in the store’s darkroom.
    “Sure, I know that guy. That’s John Walker, owns a bunch of businesses in town, including the Novato Bank over on Grant.”
    “Wow, really? I’ve got an account there and I’ve never seen the guy. In fact, I don’t remember seeing him at a Rotary or chamber event.”
    “Well, I’m not surprised by that; the guy keeps a pretty low profile outside of his church activities.”
    “What do you mean church activities?”
    “He’s the deacon at First Presbyterian.”
    “Wow.”
    “Good man. He’s been married to the same woman for thirty plus years and has a bunch of kids, I think one or two grandchildren as well.”
    “Sounds like he’s quite the successful family man.”
    “He certainly is; the chamber has wanted him to be involved for years, the Rotary too. I think he’s got a full plate, and like all of us, he’s not getting any younger. I think he’s smart enough to want to carve out some time for himself. How did you come by these photos anyway?”
    “I met a friend Friday night at the Embassy Suites down in San Rafael. I was up on the third floor looking at all the people in the lobby. You know me, it’s all about interesting faces and angles.”
    “Well, they’re great shots, but I hope you’re careful. A lot people get very uncomfortable when strangers take pictures of them.”
    “I have no doubt. But I’m usually at a pretty good distance. And, you know, with all the business people and community profiles that I do for the chamber and the Rotary, it’s great to just be able to photograph interesting faces when they’re not posing and trying to smile.”
    “I understand completely. Just try to be very discreet. I don’t want to hear about you getting, let’s just say, the wrong people upset. That wouldn’t do you, the camera store, or me any good. Remember, this is still a small town.”
    Michael smiled, nodded in agreement, and returned to unpacking that day’s newly arrived stock. While he went about doing tasks that had long ago become routine, he thought about Walker’s position in the community.  
    It would seem awkward at this point if he were to ask more of Milton regarding John Walker’s business holdings, the part of town where he lived, and so forth. His employer had already chastised him for secretively shooting photos of Walker; prying for details into his background might set off alarm bells, which given his side business as an extortionist would clearly be unwise.  
    Besides, there were other ways to learn about Walker, starting with a trip to the library. Spending a couple of hours looking at microfiche of past editions of the local weekly, The Novato Advance, should provide a lot of answers.  
    Next a trip to the county tax assessor’s office would offer up what Michael wanted to know about his principle residence and whether John Walker owned any other residences or commercial properties in the county. While at the county offices, a visit to the clerk of the district court would reveal if there was any past or current litigation pending or settled involving Walker.  
    In total, considerably more information than Milton would be able to supply.  

    Michael checked in on Sheila’s pattern one day during the middle of the week and noted the same scheduled six-thirty departure from the bank, followed by her short drive home. On Friday night, however, Sheila again rendezvoused with Walker. With the precision of a Swiss timepiece, she performed flawlessly, meeting Walker at precisely the same time and place as the previous week.
    Michael, finding, the pattern of the past Friday repeating, wondered if he needed to follow Sheila inside. After all, he was quite certain that he had stumbled onto the pattern of their tryst. But then he