Junkyard Dogs: A Walt Longmire Mystery by Craig Johnson

Author:Craig Johnson [Johnson, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, Thriller, Suspense, Western
ISBN: 0143119532
Amazon: B003NX7540
Publisher: Penguin Books
Published: 2010-05-27T05:00:00+00:00

Henry was back at the office when we returned, and I made him accompany me to the hospital. Durant Memorial had a morgue, or a standard treatment room that served as a morgue—it was room 31, a piece of information that wasn’t shared with the common populace.

“Wouldn’t you say this was like finding a hole in a pincushion?”

“He was injecting himself three to four times a day to control his glucose levels, but there are two things abnormal about these three injection points. The location where most of his injections took place is in the normal areas of the body, the front and the outside of the thighs, the abdomen, except the area around the navel, the upper and outer areas of the arms, the area just above the waist on the back and the buttocks. You’ll notice where these injections were made.”

Bill McDermott held the junkman’s leg up for my inspection; I could see that there were three larger holes, which punctured the area behind the knee. “How in the world did you find them?”

“Blood.”

“What’s number two?”

“The size of the needle that went in there three times is a lot larger than the one regularly used for insulin, hence the blood.” I studied the young medical examiner on loan from the state of Montana. It’s something our neighbors from the north did as a courtesy in the depths of the Wyoming winter when the hour-and-forty-five-minute trip from Billings compared favorably with the five and a half hours from Cheyenne. Bill McDermott had changed since the last time I’d seen him. He looked worldlier and more affluent, which is what three months in Europe with Lana Baroja could do for you.

“When are you going to make an honest woman out of Lana?”

“She doesn’t want to be an honest woman.” He took a sip of his ginger ale and glanced at Henry, who stood quietly against the wall with his arms folded. Bill turned back and smiled at me, his long, blondish hair hanging in front of his face. “I heard your daughter is getting married.”

“I heard that, too.” I gestured back toward Geo Stewart’s body. “Was that the leg that had the untied boot?”

Both Isaac and the Montana ME nodded.

“Why inject him behind the knee, if indeed someone did?”

Isaac placed his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “Closest point to the major artery in the leg, and it’s possible that it would go unnoticed.”

“So you’re saying somebody murdered him.”

McDermott was cautious. “We’re saying it’s possible that somebody murdered him.”

“With what?”

“Air.”

I walked over and leaned against the wall beside Henry. “I thought that only worked in made-for-TV movies.”

Isaac decided to take up some of the slack for Bill. “Depends on the condition of the victim, body position, and most important, the amount of air introduced into the system. It’s been reported in some medical journals that as little as twenty milliliters could do the trick, but that’s still quite a bit of air.”

The Cheyenne Nation’s voice rumbled beside me. “You would need a bicycle pump.

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