Receipt for murder!
The housekeeper and Detective Benjamin Archer stood outside the bungalow where the victim had been found lying on the living room floor, a lethal wound to the back of his head.
Q. Where do fish sleep? A. In a waterbed!
“Can you remember if there was anything unusual that happened today, Mrs. Gibbons?”
“No. Well . . . except that Mr. Sullivan—he owned Sullivan’s Men’s Store— didn’t have his own car because it was in the repair shop, so George picked him up about 8:30 and drove him to the store.” “Who’s George?” “George Benson. That’s him standing next to the officer behind the patrol car.” She gestured toward a tall, thickset man wearing glasses. “He’s the one who found poor Mr. Sullivan.”
The detective squinted at the man in the glare of the late afternoon sun before turning back to the housekeeper. “And where were you today, Mrs. Gibbons?” She took a deep breath. “After they left, I was only able to spend a short time tidying up the kitchen because I had a lot of errands. I dislike leaving a messy kitchen. First, I picked up the dry cleaning, dropped off the dog at the groomer and waited at the pharmacy almost an hour for a prescription to be fi lled. Then I did my big grocery shopping and . . .” Her red-rimmed eyes scanned the yellow tape outlining the property, “and I came home to this.”
Closing his notebook, Detective Archer thanked Mrs. Gibbons for her time. He had questions for George Benson.
The coroner had estimated early afternoon as the time of death; forensics had dusted for prints on both knobs of the front and back doors as well as the handles on the open window. He strode over to where the two men stood and introduced himself. “Mr. Benson, what can you tell me about today?” Meeting the detective’s eyes, he said, “I picked up Mr. Sullivan at 8:30 and drove him to the store. This was the last morning of our big cash- only sale.” Detective Archer nodded. “The boss offered this extra incentive because he didn’t like credit card company fees. He never liked
The owner of Sullivan’s Men’s Store was found murdered in his home—who does Detective Archer suspect?
paying out more than necessary, especially to the salespeople, if you get what I mean.”
The detective offered no comment, so Benson continued. “The store closed at one o’clock for inventory. That’s when I drove Mr. Sullivan home. As usual, he took home the day’s receipts because he always handled the bank deposits after personally counting the money.”
“Did you follow him into the house?”
“Nope. Just dropped him off.”
“Did anyone else know about the money?”
“Yes, two other salespeople saw us leave with the cash.”
What made you check on Mr. Sullivan before fi nding him and suspecting that he’d been killed?”
“After dropping him off, I went home, changed clothes and decided to go for a walk.” He patted his stomach. “Good exercise, you know. But as I was passing Mr. Sullivan’s house, I heard the dog barking through the open window—very unusual. I ran up the front lawn and peeked in.” He swallowed and bent his head. “That’s when I saw him lying on the floor with a big gash on his head.”
“Did you notice anything else?”
“There were a lot of receipts scattered on the floor, but I didn’t see any money.”
Detective Archer nodded, satisfied with what he’d heard. “Mr. Benson, you’ll have to come down to the station and make a formal statement.”