Hardy 11 - Suspect, The by John Lescroart Page A

Bethany said. There was a bunch of us from the block that gathered at the corner this morning. We didn't know what else to do, so we were all standing there waiting for someone to tell us what had happened, although we knew it was probably bad, with all the police and everything.
    Q: I'm sorry, Mrs. Sutcliff. Can we go back to Bethany for a minute. Bethany is who?
    A: Bethany Robley. She lives across the street, that stucco place right there two houses up. She and Kymberly know each other.
    Q:    And Bethany told you that Stuart came home last night?
    A:    That's what she said. She said it was around eleven thirty.
    Q:    Why did she think that?
    A: I got the impression that she saw him. Her bedroom's right in that upstairs front window. You can see it from here, see? I can't believe he actually killed her, though I guess somebody must have. He really seems like such a nice man.
    Q:    Well, that's still kind of an open question.
     
    *      *      *      *      *
     
    The door at the stucco house across the street opened to a heavyset, gray-haired African American woman in a brown jogging outfit. "Yes? Can I help you?"
    Introducing himself, Juhle had his badge out, and held it up in his wallet. "Is this the home of Bethany Robley?"
    It is.”
    "I'd like to ask her a few questions, if you don't mind."
    "Maybe I do. I'm her mother. What's this about? What's she done?"
    "She's done nothing, ma'am. It's about your neighbors across the street there. The Gormans. You may have heard that Mrs. Gorman died this morning."
    "There wasn't any Mrs. Gorman. There was Dr. Dryden, Caryn, married to Stuart, if that's who you mean." Mrs. Robley had her arms crossed, and stepping forward, she completely blocked the door. "And that's got nothing to do with my daughter. She had nothing to do with them."
    "I understand she was a friend of Kymberly's, their daughter."
    "Okay, that. They know each other, all right, but Kym's gone up to school and she hasn't been over there since ..."
    Behind Mrs. Robley, Juhle heard a younger voice. "It's okay, Mom. I can talk to him."
    "Not unless I say so, you can't." The mother came back at Juhle, holding her daughter back with an extended palm. "Are we going to be wanting a lawyer here, Inspector? You think my little girl had anything at all to do with Caryn's dying?"
    "I've got no reason to think that, ma'am. I'd just like to ask her a couple of questions about what, if anything, she might have seen last night. From her window."
    "And that's all?"
    "That's all. Promise."
    The mother half turned and Juhle caught a glimpse of a young woman of about his own height. She was wearing a Galileo High sweatshirt, a short black skirt, white tennis shoes.
    "I'm gonna be with you the whole time," Mrs. Robley said.
    "Fine with me."
    A few seconds passed, and then the large woman sighed and moved to the side to let her daughter come forward. Bethany stepped up into the doorway—a clear, wide forehead and a solemn expression on her face. A keen intelligence seemed to emanate from a penetrating gaze out of deeply set eyes. To Juhle, she looked far too serious for a young woman of her age; she could easily have passed for twenty-five.
    And Juhle immediately recognized a key truth: If Bethany was going to be one of his witnesses—and he thought that was a reasonable likelihood at this stage—he couldn't have asked for a better one. "I won't take up much of your time," he began. He looked behind Bethany to her mother, held up his tiny tape recorder. "I'd like to record what we say here." He shrugged apologetically. "It's just that I don't take really good notes, and I want to make sure I've got it exactly right. Is that all right with you, Mrs. Robley?"
    "Ask my daughter."
    Bethany shrugged with a slight awkwardness. "That's okay, I guess."
    "Thank you." Juhle quickly dictated his standard intro into the device, then came back to his subject. "Well, Bethany, I was just over at Mrs. Sutcliff's house