Page 35 of A Winter of Discontent for Henry Milch
He seemed to absorb that like a puff of smoke. Then he said, “My cousin. Second cousin, actually. Once removed. Barely even a relative. Always was trouble. Even as a girl. Destroyed her family, that’s what they say. A lot of fighting over what to do about Bobbie. Her mother died round nineteen seventy. After that there was no stopping Bobbie. She got married a few times. Don’t even know how many. Three, maybe four. Got arrested a few times but nothing stuck. My dad always thought jail might have straightened her out.”
All of that was interesting, but it wasn’t what I needed to know. “Did she have any visitors last night?”
“Yep, I think she did.”
“Do you know who they were?”
“I didn’t know the woman. I don’t get out much”
“It was a woman?”
“Well, I think it was. Hard to tell. Had on one of those pillow coats down to her ankles. Could have been a man, I suppose.”
“Do you know what time that was?”
“I don’t sleep. I try. Every night. But I’m up and down. Up and down.”
“What time?”
“Well, after Main Street Café closed, obviously.”
“So two, three o’clock in the morning?”
“No. Twelve-thirty.”
I could never get used to how early things closed.
“Oh, okay. Is that all you can tell me about the woman you saw? What color was the coat?”
“Coat was purple. Hair was blond.”
Uh-oh. Melanie Frasier’s hair was blond. And she had a crap alibi. “Did you see what kind of car this person came in?”
“Red pickup.”
I remembered a red pickup in the parking lot at Three Friends that morning.
“Was she the only person you saw?”
“Only one I remember.”
“Was Bobbie’s car here?”
“Don’t think so.”
“What kind of car does she drive?”
“Some kind of German thing. Old. One of her husbands bought it for her. Long time ago.”
“Color?”
“Piss yellow.”
Lovely. I chewed my lip for a moment. I knew there was more I should ask, but I couldn’t think?—
“So did you see if the woman went into the trailer, or did she just drop Bobbie off?”
“Well, she got out of the car, didn’t she?”
