Free Death on the Mississippi by Richard; Forrest Page A

for work. You two, spend no more money!”
    Lyon smiled after her as she left and then turned to Pan. “Did you find Dalton’s address book?”
    She held up a dog-eared red volume. “I found this in his desk at the resort office. There may be another one on the houseboat. I’ve gone through it and put a mark next to the people I know, but there’s a whole bunch of other names that don’t mean anything to me. None of them say gravel-voice man who calls us in the middle of the night.”
    Lyon pointed to the telephone. “I want you to call all the names in the book that you didn’t mark off. Will you recognize the voice of the man who called at night?”
    â€œYou don’t forget the sound of the man who threatens your husband.”
    The dusty van with the words “Pranko Construction Company” lettered on its sides came to an untidy stop at the front door. Sam Idelweise erupted into the house with a hammer raised in his right hand. “I know you’re keeping the bastard here, Wentworth! I want him and I want him now!”
    â€œI thought you threw your hammer at him the other day.”
    â€œHammers are the only thing we have plenty of. Now produce him!”
    â€œHe’s not here, but you’re welcome to look.”
    â€œI will.” Sam pushed past Lyon and nearly knocked Bea over as she came down the stairs.
    â€œI don’t suppose that Sam and his hammer are here to fix the holes in the kitchen?” She climbed into the Toyota and rolled down the window. “I thought not. Listen, if Dorset’s aerial pictures aren’t good enough, we can sell the house and get NASA to satellite-map the Eastern seaboard for us.”
    Lyon looked thoughtful. “If Dorset’s pictures do the job we shouldn’t need anything more.”
    â€œOh, my God,” Bea said as she threw the car in gear. “He really considered it.” As she drove down the drive she looked in the rearview mirror and saw a man with a hammer standing on Nutmeg Hill’s widow’s walk. Somehow, facing the Governor didn’t seem quite so appalling as it had earlier.
    Lyon served a thick roast beef sandwich and an ice-cold bottle of Lowenbrau to the dejected man sitting on the patio. He joined him with a smaller sandwich for himself and an iced tea.
    â€œHe really isn’t here,” Sam said.
    â€œNo, and he hasn’t been,” Lyon replied. “Pan has been staying with us and she’s now in my study making phone calls.”
    â€œYeah, I saw her. It’s been four days now, that’s a little long for one of his tricks.”
    â€œHe and the boat are gone. The authorities and Pan and I have searched the area and can’t find a trace.”
    â€œThat’s not all that’s missing. He’s raped Pranko Construction. He’s scooped up every dime there was, no matter who it belonged to.”
    â€œI thought there wasn’t any money,” Lyon said. “I was under the impression that the company had financial difficulties.”
    â€œHe cleaned out the escrow accounts that held unit-deposit money, the payroll accounts, FICA and withholding tax accounts, you name it and he took it.”
    â€œHow much did he get?”
    â€œDice can tell you better than I can, but it’s way over a million. I had to lay off the rest of the crew yesterday, and I got this bad feeling that the paychecks are going to bounce. It’s going to be sheriff time, little guys with briefcases from the state labor department time, big guys from the IRS time.”
    â€œI understand the position you’re in,” Lyon said.
    â€œDo you, Wentworth? Do you really? You understand that I lose my house and everything I own, and then I go to jail? If I’m real lucky the federal people get me before the state people since federal pens are usually better. If I’m really lucky I get sent to Danbury.”
    â€œIf Dalton is