Death in the Primrosr Hotel – Chapter 3a

Vanessa and I checked in with Tom Forsythe Sunday morning before we started on our way home. He said, “I called Bob Murdoch last night. I know him. We worked together on a few cases in the not to distant past. He told me, and I quote, ‘he’s a pain in my ass.’ He said you’re ‘like Philip Marlowe trapped in the twenty-first century’. And he said those were your good points. He also said that you were a damn fine PI, honest, dependable and that your word was good and he hates PI’s.” Tom Forsythe chuckled at Murdoch’s last statement. What could I say. It’s all true.
“We’re heading for home but I’m planning to come back in a few days to, with your permission of course, look into the killing,” I said.
“Detective Forsythe,” Vanessa started, “as an attorney and a former prosecutor, I would consider the entire Primrose Hotel a crime scene until further notice and if I were you, I would prevent any demolition until this death is resolved.”
“You’re right, Ms. Malone. That’s gonna cause a some people lot of problems,” he said with a smirk on his face.
“Please call me Vanessa.”
“Vanessa, I’ll secure the hotel. I talked with the mayor and he said that the he and town council wanted to solve this skeleton matter. I’ll know more about their thinking when you get back. Jake, check in with me first when you do get back and I’ll share with you what I can,” Tom Forsythe said.
“I might bring Vanessa with me if that’s alright with you.”
“I don’t see any problem. Check with me when you get here,” Tom Forsythe said. We shook hands all around and Vanessa and I headed for home.


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