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“I’m Inspector Conklin, SFPD. I’ve brought your wife home from the hospital.”

“Oh? I didn’t know. Why was Joan in the hospital?”

“She was shot, Mr. Murphy. Let me go get her. I’ll tell her that you’re back here.”

Conklin went back out to the front door and told Joan Murphy that her husband seemed fine. She smiled and then started to weep. Conklin holstered his gun and accompanied the frail woman, who was still wearing blue scrubs, paper slides, and an SFPD windbreaker.

When he saw Joan, her husband opened his arms and folded her in. He patted her back as she sobbed against his chest.

“I almost died, Robert. I almost died.”

Conklin thought that Murphy’s actions were warm, but his expression and his affect seemed to be a little distant. Conklin watched and listened as Joan gave Robert a shorthand version of the story as she knew it. But why didn’t Joan’s husband seem shocked by the news?

Joan told Robert that she had woken up in the morgue. Apparently she had been shot in the shoulder and had a wound on her hip as well, but she had no memory of being attacked. Thank goodness she had no broken bones. She just needed some TLC and rest.

There was no mention of the deceased John Doe.

Robert asked her where this had happened and she said, “At the Warwick, Robert. I was found in a hotel room, bloody and unconscious. The police thought I was dead! My jewelry was gone. That lovely pendant of my mother’s. And oh, my God. My rings were taken, too.”

“Why were you at the Warwick?”

“I have no idea how I got there, Robbie. I think that I was drugged and kidnapped.”

“Drugged and kidnapped? My God, Joan. By whom?”

“That’s my theory, but this kind man, Inspector Conklin, is going to figure out what happened and who is responsible.”

“God, I hope so,” Robert said as he hugged her close one more time. “We’re going to take good care of you, dear.”

From inside his embrace, Joan looked up at her husband and smiled.

“I’m going to change into my own comfortable clothes, Robert. I could use a drink. Tell Marjorie I’m very hungry. I have no idea when I last had a meal. I think I’d like chicken stew. That will fix me right up. Inspector, you’re welcome to stay for dinner. I’ll be right back.”

When Joan had left the room, Conklin turned to Robert Murphy and said, “You mind answering a few questions for me?”

Chapter 14

Murphy nodded his head and directed Conklin to a squared, taupe-colored chair. As Conklin sat down, Murphy took a seat in an identical chair that was situated at a right angle from him. Murphy did finger riffs on his knees, looking impatient and resigned.

Conklin said, “These are routine questions, Mr. Murphy. Your wife was shot and left for dead. So I’m going to need details of your movements over the last forty-eight hours.”

Murphy said, “Right. I know this one. You think the husband did it.”

Conklin said, “Not necessarily. Think of this as the way we clear the husband, Mr. Murphy.”

Murphy sighed, raked back his hair with his fingers, and said, “I didn’t leave the property all weekend and I haven’t left it today, either. Marjorie Bright, our housekeeper and cook, can vouch for me. Our pool boy, Peter Carter, saw me Sunday morning when I went for a swim. Gotta stay fit, no? Peter lives in a cottage in the back. He has the weekends off, but he was there on Sunday.”

Conklin said, “You seriously haven’t left the house in two whole days?”

“Honestly, it’s been longer than that. I have a part in a movie. It’s a thriller called Case Management. Craig Noble is directing and I play Evan Slaughter, the lead detective. I’ve been reading and rehearsing my lines for these past couple days. Marjorie even helped me run through them. She usually does. Anyway, we start shooting next week.”

Conklin asked, “Were you contacted by anyone demanding ransom for Joan’s return?”

“What? No. Of course not. I would have called the police if that had happened.”

Conklin said, “Can you think of any reason why someone might want to hurt Joan?”

“I doubt it. But she does have a strong personality. She always says what she thinks. She’s on a lot of committees and charity boards. Wherever money and politics are involved, people can get pretty pissed off. Thankfully, Joan keeps me out of her business.”


Tags: James Patterson Women's Murder Club Mystery