19th Christmas by Patterson James

Author:Patterson, James
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473563032
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2019-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 49

CONKLIN AND I followed Jacobi to Caselli Avenue and parked behind him in front of number 22.

The curb was already jammed with CSI and medical examiner vans and a herd of black-and-whites. Cherry lights strobed, and the crackle of car radios sounded like a hissing crowd at Candlestick.

I got out of the car and looked up.

At eleven whatever p.m., the clouds had blocked out the moon and stars, leaving a fathomless black sky. Up and down the curving, tree-lined block, reindeer lawn vignettes and roof decor twinkled.

By contrast, every window in number 22 Caselli blazed with halogen lights from our crime scene unit.

The uniformed officer standing outside the door was David Thompsett, a bright kid hoping to get into Homicide one day. He reminded me of Conklin when I first met him.

Thompsett looked at me and did a double take.

“Sergeant. You okay?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Uh, honestly? You look like you’ve been sleeping in the trunk of your car.”

I laughed, sounding slightly hysterical to my own ears.

“I wish,” I told him. “Sleep is a distant memory. What have we got here, Officer?”

Thompsett ran the scene for Jacobi, Conklin, and me.

“The vic is a white man in his sixties, duct-taped to a chair. Three shots to the chest. He’s still there.”

“Who called this in?” Conklin asked him.

“Anonymous tipster called 911, said that he heard gunshots and saw the shooter flee on foot. Said he recognized him as Mr. Loman.

“I knew the name from the APB,” Thompsett said. “My partner and I responded and found the front door closed but unlocked. We called for backup and went in. Hogan and I took a quick look around, checked to make sure the victim was dead. CSI got here an hour ago.”

Thompsett handed the sign-in log to Jacobi, said, “Nice to see you, Chief. How’re you doing?”

“Fired up. Ready to go.”

I worked out the timeline while Jacobi signed us in. Dispatch had forwarded the 911 call to Homicide. Jacobi had picked up the call while Conklin and I were interviewing Rafferty and Briggs.

How had the caller recognized Loman?

Who was Loman to the victim?

Thompsett said, “Let me get Lieutenant Hallows for you.”

He phoned CSI’s night-shift supervisor, Lieutenant Gene Hallows, who came out to the front step to meet us. He cautioned us to follow directly behind him. “It’s a bloody mess in there. Watch your feet. Don’t sneeze,” he said, handing out the shoe-cover booties and latex gloves.

I got it. Don’t corrupt his crime scene.

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