Page 83 of Evil Bones
Three of the women listened attentively. The fourth might have. It was hard to tell since she made no eye contact but continuously scanned the lobby in the way convention-goers do, searching for more interesting or more prestigious conversation ops.
When I’d finished, Dirkus asked, “What’s your role in all this?”
I explained my part in the investigation.
“And the oaf over there?” she asked, chin-cocking Slidell, who was bully-questioning a man with a salt-and-pepper beard reaching almost to his enormous belt buckle.
“He’s a detective.” I left it at that.
Again, Dirkus looked to her companions.
Again, they nodded in unison, like a trio of puppets worked with a single string.
“The four of us have been coming to these meetings for years,” Dirkus said. “So has Hugh Norwitz. But I doubt any of us would claim toknowhim.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“The guy’s not exactly social,” Freckle Face said.
“Let’s be honest,” the tall woman said. She was Larkie Oddle with Benny’s Wild Game Taxidermy and Butcher Shop in Chapel Hill. “Norwitz is a creep.”
“I’m down with that,” Freckle Face agreed.
“A creep how?” I asked.
Freckle Face shrugged one polyester leopard-skin-clad shoulder. “Arrogant. Overbearing. Self-important.”
“He’s a bully used to getting his way,” Dirkus added.
“Bingo.” Oddle jabbed a finger of agreement at her companion.
“Do you think Norwitz is capable of committing the atrocities I just described?” Sweeping my gaze over four pairs of eyes.
“Do I think he could kill and behead a dog?” Oddle asked.
“Yes.”
“Without missing a heartbeat.”
The other three did their synchronized nodding thing.
A second to digest that, then I asked, “Does anyone else come to mind who might fit the profile?”
They gave that some thought. Or pretended to in order to make me happy. Then each shook her head.
A follow-up question was forming on my tongue when motion in my peripheral vision caught my attention. Turning, I noted that the lobby had grown significantly more crowded.
Through the press of bodies, I could see Slidell thumb-jabbing atme, then at the corridor through which we’d entered. The not-so-subtle gesture meant he was ready to move on.
I thanked Dirkus, Oddle, and the other two for their cooperation and assured them their comments would remain confidential.
“If you think of anything else, please give me a call,” I encouraged, handing out my cards.
“Of course,” Dirkus said.
I wove my way toward the hall to join Slidell. We didn’t speak until we’d moved far enough away to be able to hear.
“Christ almighty, I feel like one of those fish packed asshole to armpit in a can.”
