Lethal City by A. W. Gray

Author:A. W. Gray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2015-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

14

Benno slipped on a patch of ice on his way into his apartment, skinning his knee on the sidewalk. He got up and hopped around, cursing under his breath, and limped on through the gate into the backyard.

Most of the snow had melted during the day, but the thermometer had dipped below freezing after nightfall. There were slick places on the side streets and white outlines on the ground where the houses’ shadows had blocked off the sun. The sky was clear and the moon was round and yellow. The widow’s home where Benno lived was an old single-story with a high-peaked roof; his private entrance was around in back. She was in her eighties and went to bed with the pigeons. The house was dark, with a single light left on over the stoop so that Benno could find his way in.

Once inside he took off his pants and examined his wound. The skin was ripped away and spots of blood bad seeped through. He found some rubbing alcohol and a box of cotton balls, then soaked one of the balls and pressed it against his knee. He threw back his head and bit his lip to keep from screaming out loud. When the pain subsided some, he expelled a long breath and sank back into his chair.

He felt pretty stupid for falling on his ass, but aside from the pain in his leg he was feeling better and better. As far as the job went he was fucking humming, getting the hang of it and feeling like a cop once again. The past few years, the various jobs he’d held while kicking alcohol, had been an interruption until he could get on with his life. If Jan could see him now, she might even be proud.

Jesus, my knee. He got another cottonball and soaked it in rubbing alcohol.

As for the case—it was beginning to move, but at the same time there were a lot of unanswered questions. The sketch artist had provided what Benno believed to be a good likeness of the perp, but who the hell was he and what connection could he have to a killing over twenty-five years ago? Morgan Masters claimed to have no memory of a man who’d molested her as a child. Benno couldn’t imagine how anyone could forget something like that.

He called Drummond. “How’s it going?” he said.

“I’m on the sofa watching a big-screen television. Morgan’s upstairs, either going to bed or plotting her escape. She’s a lovely person, Benno. She’s stopped short of calling me nigger bitch, but I don’t think she’s missed any other adjective. The dispatcher says he’II have four unis out here within a half hour. Then I’m going home and soak my feet.”

“Did you mention Uncle Eddie to Morgan again?”

“Twice. Total blank. I don’t think she’s bullshitting.”

“I can’t figure it out, if the guy abused her. I’m going to talk to a shrink.”

“I’d be careful you don’t wind up paying a big fat consulting fee out of your pocket.

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