Resumo de Death Makes A Comeback

VIOLENT DEATH WAS no novelty to Sgt. James Peyton. He had seen far worse than a brunette with a bruise on her forehead and a slit throat.

He felt as if he had just touched a live wire.

He wide-eyed the older detective. "Dad--"

Lt. Lawrence Peyton raised a cautionary hand.

"Please, Jimmy." His voice dropped. "I wish I'd never told you about him."

"But the MO--"

"Sh. The husband hears you, spreads the rumor he's back.... " He glanced at the bedroom door as if he expected something to enter and devour them.

Lucy Welch's long hair spread out like a nun's veil on the gray carpet beneath her. Her brown eyes stared up at Jimmy.

She wore a red tube top and tight, black designer jeans. How perfectly, colorwise, her top and lipstick coordinated with her throat.

Jimmy hoped his necrophilic fantasies weren't too obvious. He must mention that to Dr. Larsen tomorrow.

Jimmy Peyton was a fat little boy in a blond, blue-eyed hunk disguise. He had fooled many women, since he always took off before the disguise slipped.

Lieutenant Peyton surveyed the huge, decadently ornate bedroom. He was a great, bloated version of his son with a cloud-gray crew cut. "Judging by that crap on the dressing table, she liked spending money."

"Or knew how to get some guy to spend it for her."

Lieutenant Peyton winked approvingly, which gave Jimmy a glow, then turned his attention to the bed. "Black silk sheets. Now, what does that tell you?"

"I don't think you should jump to conclusions, Dad."

"You want to get to my rank, you'd better."

The glow faded.

* * *

The Welch living room was expensively furnished, spotlessly clean, and coldly neat. Jimmy couldn't wait to leave it.

George Welch had a thin, vinegary face and rust-colored hair, parted down the middle.

"I understand," said Lieutenant Peyton, "you were divorced?"

"Separated," said Welch as if he were about to have the lieutenant beheaded. "We were happily married; but we were having difficulties, so we decided to spend some time apart."

"I see. So what happened tonight?"

"We were supposed to go to dinner and that play at the Birmingham Theater. I came by to get her; and I found her like that."

Jimmy noted Welch's granite formality. Indifference to his wife's death? Shock? Or something else?

"Did you," asked Lieutenant Peyton, "notice anything unusual as you pulled up?"

Welch hesitated. "No."

"Sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay. Now, did your wife have any enemies?"

"Yes." Like he was a cat and the question was a nice, juicy mouse. "She recently became friendly--just friendly--with a man named Eric Dimke. According to Lucy, he was used to getting his way with women; and when she turned him down, he didn't take it well."

"What did he do?"

"She wouldn't tell me. But I got the impression she was scared of him."

"You know where this guy lives?"

He gave them an address in Flat Rock.

"Think he's telling the truth?" asked Jimmy back in the car.

"Not completely. Maybe not at all. Not about that trial separation; that's for sure. Once she got her hands on his money and that house, that little bitch was through with him.

"And all you need to jump to conclusions about that is eyes."

The address was in a sparsely populated area.

They turned into a driveway, the headlights revealing a bedraggled Oldsmobile parked so close to the road they almost rear-ended it.

They crossed what felt to Jimmy's ankles like a balding, unmowed lawn.

Lieutenant Peyton sidestepped something. "Look out for this junk." A lone streetlamp and the light from the house dimly illuminating scattered auto innards.

"I don't believe it," said Jimmy.

"Believe what?"

"That a woman as well off as her would take up with anyone who lived here."

"Now who's jumping to conclusions?"

* * *

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