Free The Drowning Pool by Jacqueline Seewald Page B

Whatever made Bert St. Croix so angry and restless was her own business as long as it didn’t interfere with her judgment on the job.
    “We’re going to make a breakthrough on this case soon. I can feel it. Things aren’t as placid as they seem. It’s like that pool we found Bradshaw floating in. On the surface it’s clean, peaceful. But just get close enough, look down into the depths, and you can see the murky residue of slime undulating. We’re getting deeper into it all the time, and the truth is just waiting to be located.”
    “E.S.P.?”
    Gardner smiled. “Call it cop’s instinct. Want to make a call?”
    “What call’s that?”
    “To Bradshaw’s boss at Marcom Pharmaceuticals.”
    “Sure, if you trust me to do the talking.”
    “Why wouldn’t I?”
    She took the card Gardner handed her. “You might as well listen in.”
    Gardner nodded his head in agreement. He thought he felt the tension lessening between them. He wondered if he could keep things moving in that direction. Bert was beginning to open up to him, and that was a good sign. As she dialed the New York phone number, Gardner picked up on the extension. At the other end of the connection, a young woman’s voice answered wearily. Bert asked for Briscoe.
    “The offices are closed for the day,” the receptionist said. Gardner glanced at his watch. He’d forgotten that it was well past six. Still, some executives did work late. Bert must have been thinking similarly because she identified herself and told the woman to ring through. On the fourth ring, a man picked up the phone and it turned out to be Briscoe.
    “You’re lucky,” he said. “I don’t usually stay here this late but we had an important conference.”
    “Concerning Mr. Bradshaw?”
    There was a hesitation on the other end of the line. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it was. He won’t be easy to replace.”
    “We’re conducting an investigation into Mr. Bradshaw’s death and we’d appreciate your cooperation.”
    “I was just leaving,” Briscoe responded in a tired voice. “I don’t think we ought to discuss this matter over the phone. Why don’t you make an appointment with my secretary and come by the office one day this week.”
    Gardner made a note of the man’s reluctance to talk. But Bert wasn’t buying it; she kept after Briscoe.
    “The questions are pretty standard. They’ll only take a few minutes. I’d rather not waste the time traveling back and forth to the city unless it’s absolutely necessary. Tell you what, if you aren’t sure of my identity, just phone back to Webster Township Police Headquarters and ask for Detective Bert St. Croix.”
    There was a deep sigh at the other end of the line. “No, I guess it’s all right. What do you want to know anyway?”
    “Why did Bradshaw come east?”
    “We needed him here. He was good at his job. Certain districts haven’t been functioning properly. Profits are down. We thought Bradshaw could shore things up for us, make some useful recommendations, that sort of thing.”
    “And did he?”
    “Yes, he did.”
    “Was he finished with the assignment at the time of his death?”
    There was a long pause. “Not entirely.”
    “What about Martin Walling’s district? Were his profits down?”
    “Things weren’t going well for Martin lately, even though he has a solid area. But Bradshaw hadn’t made any suggestions concerning him yet. Of course, I’ve known Martin for years and I’m well aware of his problem.”
    “Which is?”
    “His divorce, naturally. It drained his energy and concentration for quite a time. We’re hoping that the situation will improve now that he’s remarried. Bradshaw informed us that Martin’s new wife is very ambitious for his advancement. She ought to prove a good influence.”
    “Walling have any other problems?”
    Another reluctant pause. “There was something else. We’ve had thefts from our warehouses in Martin’s district. Some valuable drug shipments were