The Murders of the Moonlight Ladies: A Maxwell Graham mystery thriller (Maxwell Graham series Book 4) by LAWRENCE FALCETANO

The Murders of the Moonlight Ladies: A Maxwell Graham mystery thriller (Maxwell Graham series Book 4) by LAWRENCE FALCETANO

Author:LAWRENCE FALCETANO [FALCETANO, LAWRENCE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-09T22:00:00+00:00


Chapter 19

Briggs was reading off his laptop screen. He said, “Autopsy and forensics reports on the Quinlan case.” He spoke without taking his eyes off the screen. “They found plenty of fingerprints around the place, but nothing identifiable.”

“Probably all Samantha Quinlan’s,” Danny said. “She lived alone.”

“What about the cigar?” I said.

Briggs read further down the screen. “Good news and bad news,” he said. “The lab lifted a partial print from the cigar and a ton of DNA.”

“What’s the bad news?” Danny said.

“There was no print match in our system and DeMarco has no DNA in the system to compare it to.”

“Then we can’t put him at the crime scene,” Danny said.

“Not unless we get a DNA sample from him and it matches,” Briggs said.

“Can we bring him in for questioning?” Danny said.

“Based on what? We can’t prove he was at Quinlan’s apartment,” Briggs said.

“His record verifies he’s had a troubled past when it came to women,” I said. “And he’s recently had a problem with Quinlan. Her murder fit the timeline. That might give us enough probable cause to bring him in for interrogation. Maybe we can get a DNA sample from him.

Briggs closed his screen and swiveled his chair back to face us. “Let’s keep this latest murder quiet,” he said. “So far, the press hasn’t gotten hold of it. I’ll make sure it stays that way.”

Briggs wanted to keep the fourth murder from the public for obvious reasons. I agreed with him. Although I saw no connection to helping solve the case, it would at least prevent an unnecessary panic in the city.

Danny said, “What about DeMarco?”

Briggs leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. “We haven’t had a break in this case yet,” he said. “Bring in Mr. DeMarco.”

Danny and I took a ride to DeMarco’s yard in South Jersey. We didn’t call ahead and arrived unannounced. Lumberjack’s face appeared as he opened the door a few inches. When he saw us, he said, “Whatta you guys want? Mr. DeMarco don’t wanna see you.”

I said, “You’re not as friendly as you were the first time we were here.”

Danny said, “Tell DeMarco we want to see him.”

“He ain’t here.”

“Lying to the police gets you in trouble,” I said.

“I’ve been in trouble before. Get lost before ya get hurt!”

I hated to be threatened, almost as much as I hated being lied to.

Lumberjack opened the door wider, enough to show us he was holding a three-foot-long two-by-four in his right hand.

“What’re you going to do with that, whittle toothpicks?” I said.

He didn’t think that was funny. I could tell by the shade of red his face turned and how he curled his upper lip. The two-by-four went up quickly and was on its way down when Danny reached out and blocked it before it could part my hair and my head. Lumberjack tried to yank the wood from Danny’s grasp. Danny held on to it with both hands, trying to wrench it from Lumberjack’s grip. He was having a hard time of it because of Lumberjack’s gorilla strength, so I made a move.



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