[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
."What are you doing?" she asked."Going to work.""It's Sunday.""Gotta make a good impression if I want that promotion, don't I?" I sneered."Fine, Gavin," she said, yanking open the passenger door and getting out with jerkymovements.She bent down to look at me, holding the door open."I won't wait for you fordinner." The reverberation of the door as she slammed it set my teeth on edge.I watched hertense posture as she approached the front of the house, pulling out both her cell phone and herkeys to let herself in.I heard her ask whoever she was calling if they were free for the afternoon,and then she disappeared inside.A few minutes went by while I got myself under control.Backing out of the drive, Icalled Trent on his cell.I heard the telltale click of call waiting before his gruff voice came overthe line."Sawyer.""It's me.I'm going in today.What are you doing?" "It's Sunday.I'm not working, man, and neither should you.""Fuck you, Trent.I'll work when I want and how I want, and no one can say agoddamned thing about it," I barked, knowing full well he didn't deserve the tirade."Whoa, okay.All I meant was that everyone needs a day off, partner, and I wasn'tplanning on working today, so we should enjoy the time off.""Tell that to the Widow Kaiser."He was silent for a long moment."You keep going like this, you're gonna burn out,buddy.Everything okay?""Well, if I don't work my ass off, somehow I'm not ambitious enough.I have people toimpress, right? But if I work too much, I'm not a good family man and I'm neglecting my wife." Ihadn't meant to come out with all that, but if anyone understood, it was Trent.He had one ex-Mrs.Sawyer, and always joked that he was on the lookout for numbers two and three."Ah, the cop's ex-wife mantra.Didn't expect that to happen to you for another year ortwo." The minute click of his call waiting said whoever he'd been on the phone with had hungup.I got to the point."I'm going to talk to Damon Lane, and maybe Matt Kinney again.He might remembermore today after having thought about it." I headed up Ashby Road toward the station, wantingto hit my desk and see if anything new had come from the lab, and knowing I needed to breathebefore tackling any witness questioning."That can't wait until tomorrow?" Trent asked, his chiding bordering on whining.I rolledmy eyes."Relax, pretty boy," I said."I'll cover this solo.I have a feeling talking to these guys attheir day jobs would get us even less information than usual, so I don't want to wait untiltomorrow.Who knows what their employers know of their personal lives? Kinney might bemore receptive to talking to me alone anyway, since you were a jackass last night.""Who you callin' pretty? You're the one with the face the girls get all swoony over.Allyou DeGrassi boys are.But you're probably right about their openness in front of coworkers.Ihadn't thought of that.And I wasn't a jackass.You seemed hell bent on believing every word outof everyone's mouth, so caught up in the spectacle of the place.One of us had to stay objective.Autopsy tomorrow, right? Rock, Paper, Scissors you for it." Trent hated viewing autopsies, and I couldn't say I blamed him.I didn't like them myself,but I felt more comfortable with the facts of a case if I was there when the M.E.did his exam.Igot more understanding by seeing than by reading the report or hearing it from Jencopale.Plus,he didn't mind if I asked questions."No need.I'll take it.See how Victoria likes me coming home smelling like a morgueinstead of Satan's Whorehouse, as she so delicately put it.""Oh, ouch.First rule, man, never crawl in bed with a woman who wasn't at the same baras you without showering.""Noted.Enjoy your day off.""I plan to.Later, man."He hung up and I pulled into the station, a squat brick building that was nothing to lookat, its mirrored front windows glinting in the sun.The cool rush of air conditioning hit me just asmuch as the hush of the main room of cubes.Sundays, not many people in who didn't have to be.The somewhat hushed conversation and the familiar smell of industrial cleaner and burnedcoffee soothed my raw nerves.I didn't care what Victoria thought.This job was not a crappy stopalong some grand career map I should be adhering to.I felt at home here, and the decisions Imade mattered.I grabbed a cup of coffee before sitting down and signing in on my computer.Ihad an email from one of Cole's lab rats that none of the implements gathered from GeorgeKaiser's play room had any DNA on them other than the victim's, so his guess was the perp woregloves, no skin abrasions to leave tissue or blood on the ropes or whips.The cat o' nine tails wasconfirmed as the weapon that had made the lacerations on the victim's chest.Pictures of the whipand the dummy on which they'd tested it were attached to the email, both before and after.Iwinced, noting the marks, etched with blue paint so the depth and breadth of the injuries wasmore visible in the forensics gel.At least they hadn't used red paint.The picture also included atape measure to provide scale and to measure the slashes, and a side-by-side comparison ofphotos of the victim's wounds taken at the crime scene.Measurements matched, as well as thepatterns."Jesus, people volunteer to be whipped with these?" I asked aloud, shaking my head.Isupposed the force of the swing made a difference, but damn.Then I remembered the floggingI d witnessed the previous evening, and wondered if that instrument was capable of the kind ofdamage shown in the photos.If so, it really did depend on the wielder.What I'd seen of Lance's skin after his whipping showed only a few raised welts and an abrasion or two.Hardly lifethreatening.I'd have to wait for the autopsy in the morning to see how much the lacerations hadcontributed to George's death.Even reading the preliminary report from the lab told me I was veering out of my depthagain, that they could describe and test all the equipment in George's play room and I stillwouldn't grasp the meaning of everything or recognize a breakthrough when I saw it.Thatbrought to mind the business card I'd left in my drawer, which I extracted and stared at for a fewmoments, elbows resting on my desk.I wondered if it would be inconvenient for Dr.Haverson tospeak with me again, with it being Sunday.After a few moments of indecision, I realized theworst he could say was no, and if he was busy, I could arrange a time to go over my questions athis earliest convenience.Sure.Keep telling yourself that, my inner monologue chimed in.Just ignore the increasein your pulse and the thrill ping-ponging up and down your spine.To shut the voice up, Ipunched numbers into my desk phone and listened to the ring at the other end."This is Dr.Haverson," came the answer in that rich, velvety voice with the hint ofsouthern politeness.I cleared my throat."Doctor, this is Detective DeGrassi.Would you have time today to answer a fewquestions?" Nothing like getting right to the point.And keeping it professional."Absolutely, Detective.I'm free until around four." We arranged to meet at a nearbybarbeque chain restaurant, though food was the last thing on my mind.I checked my watch."Is one o'clock too soon?" It was a little past noon."No, that's perfect," he said accommodatingly."See you there." I hung up, my finger lingering on the receiver for a moment as I staredinto space.Then I shook myself and spent the next twenty minutes listing my questions so I'dstay focused.At least without Trent around, I didn't have to pretend I wasn't distracted by thedoctor [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl przylepto3.keep.pl
."What are you doing?" she asked."Going to work.""It's Sunday.""Gotta make a good impression if I want that promotion, don't I?" I sneered."Fine, Gavin," she said, yanking open the passenger door and getting out with jerkymovements.She bent down to look at me, holding the door open."I won't wait for you fordinner." The reverberation of the door as she slammed it set my teeth on edge.I watched hertense posture as she approached the front of the house, pulling out both her cell phone and herkeys to let herself in.I heard her ask whoever she was calling if they were free for the afternoon,and then she disappeared inside.A few minutes went by while I got myself under control.Backing out of the drive, Icalled Trent on his cell.I heard the telltale click of call waiting before his gruff voice came overthe line."Sawyer.""It's me.I'm going in today.What are you doing?" "It's Sunday.I'm not working, man, and neither should you.""Fuck you, Trent.I'll work when I want and how I want, and no one can say agoddamned thing about it," I barked, knowing full well he didn't deserve the tirade."Whoa, okay.All I meant was that everyone needs a day off, partner, and I wasn'tplanning on working today, so we should enjoy the time off.""Tell that to the Widow Kaiser."He was silent for a long moment."You keep going like this, you're gonna burn out,buddy.Everything okay?""Well, if I don't work my ass off, somehow I'm not ambitious enough.I have people toimpress, right? But if I work too much, I'm not a good family man and I'm neglecting my wife." Ihadn't meant to come out with all that, but if anyone understood, it was Trent.He had one ex-Mrs.Sawyer, and always joked that he was on the lookout for numbers two and three."Ah, the cop's ex-wife mantra.Didn't expect that to happen to you for another year ortwo." The minute click of his call waiting said whoever he'd been on the phone with had hungup.I got to the point."I'm going to talk to Damon Lane, and maybe Matt Kinney again.He might remembermore today after having thought about it." I headed up Ashby Road toward the station, wantingto hit my desk and see if anything new had come from the lab, and knowing I needed to breathebefore tackling any witness questioning."That can't wait until tomorrow?" Trent asked, his chiding bordering on whining.I rolledmy eyes."Relax, pretty boy," I said."I'll cover this solo.I have a feeling talking to these guys attheir day jobs would get us even less information than usual, so I don't want to wait untiltomorrow.Who knows what their employers know of their personal lives? Kinney might bemore receptive to talking to me alone anyway, since you were a jackass last night.""Who you callin' pretty? You're the one with the face the girls get all swoony over.Allyou DeGrassi boys are.But you're probably right about their openness in front of coworkers.Ihadn't thought of that.And I wasn't a jackass.You seemed hell bent on believing every word outof everyone's mouth, so caught up in the spectacle of the place.One of us had to stay objective.Autopsy tomorrow, right? Rock, Paper, Scissors you for it." Trent hated viewing autopsies, and I couldn't say I blamed him.I didn't like them myself,but I felt more comfortable with the facts of a case if I was there when the M.E.did his exam.Igot more understanding by seeing than by reading the report or hearing it from Jencopale.Plus,he didn't mind if I asked questions."No need.I'll take it.See how Victoria likes me coming home smelling like a morgueinstead of Satan's Whorehouse, as she so delicately put it.""Oh, ouch.First rule, man, never crawl in bed with a woman who wasn't at the same baras you without showering.""Noted.Enjoy your day off.""I plan to.Later, man."He hung up and I pulled into the station, a squat brick building that was nothing to lookat, its mirrored front windows glinting in the sun.The cool rush of air conditioning hit me just asmuch as the hush of the main room of cubes.Sundays, not many people in who didn't have to be.The somewhat hushed conversation and the familiar smell of industrial cleaner and burnedcoffee soothed my raw nerves.I didn't care what Victoria thought.This job was not a crappy stopalong some grand career map I should be adhering to.I felt at home here, and the decisions Imade mattered.I grabbed a cup of coffee before sitting down and signing in on my computer.Ihad an email from one of Cole's lab rats that none of the implements gathered from GeorgeKaiser's play room had any DNA on them other than the victim's, so his guess was the perp woregloves, no skin abrasions to leave tissue or blood on the ropes or whips.The cat o' nine tails wasconfirmed as the weapon that had made the lacerations on the victim's chest.Pictures of the whipand the dummy on which they'd tested it were attached to the email, both before and after.Iwinced, noting the marks, etched with blue paint so the depth and breadth of the injuries wasmore visible in the forensics gel.At least they hadn't used red paint.The picture also included atape measure to provide scale and to measure the slashes, and a side-by-side comparison ofphotos of the victim's wounds taken at the crime scene.Measurements matched, as well as thepatterns."Jesus, people volunteer to be whipped with these?" I asked aloud, shaking my head.Isupposed the force of the swing made a difference, but damn.Then I remembered the floggingI d witnessed the previous evening, and wondered if that instrument was capable of the kind ofdamage shown in the photos.If so, it really did depend on the wielder.What I'd seen of Lance's skin after his whipping showed only a few raised welts and an abrasion or two.Hardly lifethreatening.I'd have to wait for the autopsy in the morning to see how much the lacerations hadcontributed to George's death.Even reading the preliminary report from the lab told me I was veering out of my depthagain, that they could describe and test all the equipment in George's play room and I stillwouldn't grasp the meaning of everything or recognize a breakthrough when I saw it.Thatbrought to mind the business card I'd left in my drawer, which I extracted and stared at for a fewmoments, elbows resting on my desk.I wondered if it would be inconvenient for Dr.Haverson tospeak with me again, with it being Sunday.After a few moments of indecision, I realized theworst he could say was no, and if he was busy, I could arrange a time to go over my questions athis earliest convenience.Sure.Keep telling yourself that, my inner monologue chimed in.Just ignore the increasein your pulse and the thrill ping-ponging up and down your spine.To shut the voice up, Ipunched numbers into my desk phone and listened to the ring at the other end."This is Dr.Haverson," came the answer in that rich, velvety voice with the hint ofsouthern politeness.I cleared my throat."Doctor, this is Detective DeGrassi.Would you have time today to answer a fewquestions?" Nothing like getting right to the point.And keeping it professional."Absolutely, Detective.I'm free until around four." We arranged to meet at a nearbybarbeque chain restaurant, though food was the last thing on my mind.I checked my watch."Is one o'clock too soon?" It was a little past noon."No, that's perfect," he said accommodatingly."See you there." I hung up, my finger lingering on the receiver for a moment as I staredinto space.Then I shook myself and spent the next twenty minutes listing my questions so I'dstay focused.At least without Trent around, I didn't have to pretend I wasn't distracted by thedoctor [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]