Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (love books to read .TXT) 📖

I know this has a personal dimension for you, but it’s hard to be delicate about…”

“You don’t need to be delicate. I’m okay.”

“Sure… Well, first things first.” He walked the length of the table, to the tallest of the skeletons. “This here is, I am afraid, your cousin, Alicia Flores.”

She nodded. “I had pretty much accepted that was the case.”

“We were able to determine cause of death when we put the skeleton together. The second cervical vertebra was completely shattered, and the first and third had sustained damage that was consistent with a bullet wound.”

I said, “She was shot in the back of the neck.”

“I think that’s what I said.”

“Could you determine the caliber?”

He winced. “Probably a .38.”

Dehan said, “Like Sean.”

Frank nodded. “But it is impossible to be more accurate than that.” He pointed over at a whiteboard, where they had taped a blown-up photograph of the orphan girls from Alicia’s class. “The other skeletons we have been able to match with the girls in the picture, by age and general anatomy. We are running DNA profiles on them, but of course, we have nothing to match them against as yet. It’s the best we can do.”

“What about cause of death?” It was Dehan. “Did they all die the same way?”

He heaved a big sigh. “The simple answer is no. In a couple, we have not been able to determine cause of death. In those cases, it was probably damage to a vital organ that did not affect the skeletal framework. In several of them, there was damage to vertebrae that was consistent with their necks being crushed, either manually, with a garrote, or even with the foot. It is impossible to be more precise. A number show lacerations on their ribs, consistent with stab wounds to the heart. There are a couple who have what are clearly gunshot wounds to the chest, again, consistent with a .38 caliber bullet.”

I looked at Dehan. She was pale and her pupils were dilated. When she spoke, her voice was devoid of any emotion or feeling. “So basically, either one man set about massacring these girls in a variety of ways, or two or three people had an orgy of killing, one with his hands, another with a gun, and a third with a knife.”

Frank nodded. “Yes, assuming they all died at the same time, that is correct.”

I sighed. “I’ll talk to the captain about organizing some kind of campaign, maybe a hotline, some TV exposure, to see if we can identify some of these girls. Some of them might have family. Somebody might remember them.”

Frank nodded. “Yes. Somebody should do something to bring peace to these girls.”

We left him running his DNA tests and made our way down to the parking lot. When we got there, Dehan sat on the hood of the car and stared at me.

“It wasn’t just Mick, was it, Stone?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“It was Sadiq and Bellini too.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Carmen. It was expedient. They didn’t know how much Sean and Alicia had discovered and they had to conceal the evidence.”

“How can somebody do a thing like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Were they high? Coke or meth?”

I shrugged. “Maybe they were just plain evil.”

She was quiet for a while. “That’s where he came from.” She looked up at me. “That night. He was fresh from the slaughter.”

I stepped forward, pulled her to me and put my arms around her. She clung to me and started sobbing. It was convulsive, a pouring out of pain she’d held inside for twelve years, of anger and rage and impotence. We stood like that for maybe five minutes, until the storm subsided, then she stepped back and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeves.

Some women, when they cry, look puffy and red and unattractive. Dehan was definitely one of them. Her nose was shiny and her cheeks were soaked. I pulled out a handkerchief and gave it to her. She gave a silly laugh and blew her nose in a way you could describe as anything but feminine. When she’d finished mopping her face, she hesitated and tentatively handed the handkerchief back. I smiled and shook my head. “Keep it.”

She laughed. It was an oddly girly laugh, strangely out of character. “I’ll wash it for you.”

“I want you to take the night off, Dehan.”

Her face hardened suddenly. “No way! Don’t do this to me, Stone. Do not do this to me!”

I held up both hands. “Okay, if you want to come along, do. But I think this thing is too close to you. I think if you are wise, you will stay…”

She interrupted me. “I’m a girl! We do this kind of shit sometimes! I am fine, and you have got to let me be there at the…”

“At the what? At the kill?”

“I was going to say at the finish.”

But we both knew she was lying.

Twenty-FIVE

We had four cars plus mine, and eight officers plus myself and Dehan. We approached along Ryawa Avenue in the south and Viele in the north, without sirens. The first two cars turned down Manida Street and took up positions at the back of the warehouse. We turned down Coster Street and blockaded the exit with the cars. The windows were boarded up and the steel door was closed, but a close look showed there was no padlock on it.

I detailed two officers to stay with the cars, training their weapons on the door. The other two were to come in with Dehan and me and make the arrests. I checked my watch. It was nine fifty-five, and we waited in silence.

At exactly ten o’clock, I stepped to the door and eased it back. I expected it to wake the dead, but