Precious Blood by Jonathan Hayes

Author:Jonathan Hayes [Blood, Precious]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Published: 2011-03-10T18:30:00+00:00

Precious Blood

223

parked against the rear brick wall under david green md in stenciled white paint.

“Fuck!” He pounded his fist on the sink. “Mason! Call it in. Get the word out.”

The sink had overflowed, and Rad, stepping backward from the window, slipped and almost went down.

“Fuck! Jesus, Jenner.”

In the office, Green’s neatly folded white coat sat on a leather daybed. The desk drawers were all closed, and the appointment book Jenner had noticed earlier lay there un-disturbed. Behind the desk, his computer monitor was off.

Jenner saw that the light below the screen was flickering.

“Rad! Behind you! His computer—the monitor’s turned off, but the computer’s on!”

“What?”

Jenner stepped over to the computer and ripped the plug out of the wall. The yellow LED on the front of the CPU

went out.

“What are you doing?”

“I think he’s trying to delete his files.”

Rad looked around the room angrily, as if waiting for Green to tumble out from behind a piece of furniture so he could beat the crap out of him.

“Fuck! ”

Jenner and Garcia watched Crime Scene processing Green’s Mercedes in the alley. They’d started with Luminol in the cargo area just after dark, and were now vacuuming the front and back passenger wells as well as the cargo space.

There was no evidence of blood; one of the detectives had commented on how immaculate the car had been kept.

Rad shook his head and drew on his stubby cigar. “Have to hand it to him, this guy is pretty cool—the average shit-bird would just take off in the car, but Green remembers the LoJack.” He sighed. “He may be tough to find.”

224

j o n at h a n h ay e s

Jenner needed a break. He walked out onto the street and crossed over into Washington Square Park. The evening chill and drizzle had left the park unusually quiet; in summer it was a riot of street performers and tourists, dealers and pot-heads. Now it was deserted, save for a few scattered figures making their way through the trees, huddled under umbrellas.

Jenner sat on a damp bench and looked out over the park.

The wet surfaces of the memorial arch at the foot of Fifth Avenue glistened in the floodlights. The cold felt good.

He was surprised at how calm he was. Their first big break. A clear connection between the three victims, leading to a real suspect.

Which, he now had to admit, Green was. Still, as much as he disliked Green, Jenner had a hard time imagining him doing . . . those things. But what had he been expecting—

some deformed half-man with a hook for a hand? The evilest men are often the most ordinary, quiet, average people barely noticed by neighbors, even as they spend their weekends hunting and killing. An English criminal profiler Jenner knew called them “Custard People.”

But Green was completely different, a man with a big ego but with genuine achievements and, doubtless, social skills.

People probably liked him—his patients, his staff for sure.

His receptionist had seemed very close—she’d appeared shocked at his flight, and had resisted releasing the files even after she knew he was gone.

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