Free Suspension by Richard E. Crabbe Page B

who killed your son. There must be something you can tell me that might be of some use in finding Terry’s killer: a quarrel, some debts, maybe, or trouble at work. People don’t get killed for nothing. Murder’s a serious business. There must have been some serious reasons to kill your son.”
    Patricia and Eamon gave Tom the few names they knew of the men who their son worked with as well as those of his friends from outside of work—from church mostly. The list wasn’t long but included some of the same names he’d gotten from Joe Hamm.
    â€œTom, our Terry was a good man. He worked hard, loved his family, went to church on Sundays, and confession. We’ve had some hard times, but he never gave in to bitterness, never let us down. He was our rock,” Patricia said, turning to Eamon for confirmation. Eamon just nodded. “He’s been drinking a bit more lately, but who could blame him? Sure I wouldn’t keep him from that small comfort after all his troubles.”
    â€œTold me there was somethin’ not right about the bridge,” Eamon said suddenly.
    Tom and Patricia turned together to stare at Eamon, who took another shallow breath.
    â€œDidn’t tell me much really, not in words anyway. But I could see he was worried about somethin’. Said there was somethin’ not right about the job; that maybe there was some fellas up to no good. Probably just some strike talk or some such. Didn’t think much more about it, and he didn’t say any more, so I let it lay.”
    â€œHe didn’t mention any names, did he?”
    â€œNot a one. Lots of men on that job. Could have been anyone, or maybe a bunch o’ fellas. Just don’t know for sure.”

    A bit later, after some more fruitless probing, Tom got up to leave. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said. “This key look familiar to you?”
    He held out the key he’d found in Terrence’s pocket. It turned out it was their front door key, and Patricia put it in the lock and turned the bolt to be sure. With a sigh, Tom told them where they would have to go to make a formal identification and claim Terrence’s effects. He thanked Patricia for the tea and their help.
    She came with him to the door and stepped out into the hall. “Could I have a word with you, Tom?” She hesitated as if deciding something just then. “You see, we’ve got nobody now except Mike, and with Eamon so close to gone, I don’t know what’ll become of us. It’s Mikey I’m worried about.”
    â€œWhat about Julia’s parents?”
    â€œGone, and Julia was their only living child. It’s just that I want to be sure that Mikey is taken care of if anything … happens, you know.”
    Tom looked down into the pretty doe eyes in Patricia’s worn face. She was close to the end of her rope. The need was written large across her features. After taking his card from his vest pocket, he gave it to her, saying “You can reach me here if you need me.” Tom didn’t know what to promise, or if he should promise anything at all, so he said simply, “I’ll do what I can. I’m sorry for all your troubles, ma’am … and your loss.”
    Tom stepped out of the front door onto Suffolk Street. The street was still crowded, but there was the smell of a thunderstorm in the air, and a glance at the sky showed him dark clouds piling up to the west, over New Jersey. He hurried down to Delancey Street, where he could catch a horsecar. He didn’t want to get caught in the storm. Half a block behind, a tall man in suspenders lounged against a lamppost watching with casual interest as Tom hopped on the trolley. He made no move to follow.
    Mike watched Braddock go too. He was worried but when he was with the other kids he wouldn’t show it. Mike Bucklin wasn’t the biggest or the oldest in his gang, but he had a knack for petty thievery that