Free Dead Men's Tales (Olivia Grant Mysteries Book 2) by Phyllis A. Humphrey Page B

Sorrento" was that so many diners crammed the place that the singers wouldn't have been able to get between the tables without waxing their hips.
    Carl didn't open his menu but looked over at me and thanked me for coming. "I don't cook, and eating alone night after night gets mighty boring after a while. Besides, it's my fault about the briefcase. I need it first thing tomorrow. You're really doing me a favor."
    "No problem." Even though I knew I'd order the ravioli, I studied my menu, which was the size of a small billboard, and glanced at Carl from time to time. He seemed nervous, not at all the brusque businessman who'd been in Brad's office earlier, full of ideas about who might have murdered Harry.
    After we ordered and he drank some of the red wine the waiter poured into our glasses, Carl looked a bit more relaxed. "I'm sorry about somehow picking up Mr. Featherstone's briefcase this afternoon. I'm not usually so stupid."
    "An honest mistake. They look a lot alike. Yet, the one you left behind belonged to Harry Hammond. I wondered how you came to have it."
    "I picked it up at the hotel."
    "Where in the hotel? Not the room where Harry was killed, I hope."
    "Oh, no." He took another sip of wine before continuing. "Not when I found him."
    "Later?"
    "Yes. Look, I know this may sound a little, uh, insensitive, but…" He put his wineglass down and leaned forward across the small table between us, keeping his voice low. "Rose Hammond told me Harry had gone into that room to look over the notes for his speech. So when they started to serve dinner and he still hadn't returned, I went in and found him lying on the floor, the back of his head…" He grimaced. "You don't want to know."
    Right. "Did you touch anything?"
    "No, of course not. I rushed over to Harry and felt for a pulse, but I could see it was already too late just by looking at him."
    Carl took a deep breath and seemed to shudder. I decided he was either a very good actor or he hadn't made that fatal, unmentionable wound himself.
    Carl continued. "I flagged down a passing waiter in the hallway, said it was an emergency, and asked for the manager. He told me to wait there while he got him. When the manager came, I told him about Harry, and he pulled out his cell phone and called the police. Then we both went back to the linen room and waited until the cops came."
    His long explanation seemed rehearsed, but then I guessed he'd said it to the police officers who questioned him as well as other people.
    "And the manager didn't touch anything either?"
    "No, we both just stood there, sort of standing guard."
    "So when did you pick up the briefcase?"
    "After the police came and questioned me."
    The waiter appeared with our salads. When he was safely out of earshot, Carl went back to his story.
    "When I returned to the reception room, I saw the briefcase standing on the floor next to one of the bars, and I realized it was Harry's. I thought that everything might be impounded or whatever the police do, and I didn't see why the business should be hampered just so they could fuss over a bunch of papers. So I just picked it up and walked out with it. Maybe I shouldn't have, but that's what I did." He shrugged.
    I dipped a piece of Italian bread into the olive oil-garlic-herb mixture and Carl did the same. On one hand, I thought he should never have taken the briefcase but handed it over to the police instead. Yet, Brad had talked to Tom Ortega that afternoon, and, at least according to him, the police didn't seem to want the thing.
    "So much for Saturday night," I reminded Carl. "If you were so concerned about business, why didn't you return the briefcase to Amanda Dillon or at least bring it to the office on Monday?"
    He took a bite of bread and chewed a lot before answering, and I wondered if he could invent a plausible story on the spur of the moment.
    "To tell the truth, I forgot it. When I left the hotel that night, I took it home, but on Monday morning, I just got ready to