Calculated in Death (IN DEATH #36) by J. D. Robb EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: J. D. Robb
- Language: English
- Genre: Thriller / Suspense
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A KILLER WIND HURLED BITTER NOVEMBER air, toothy little
knives to gnaw at the bones. She’d forgotten her gloves,
but that was just as well as she’d have ruined yet another
overpriced pair once she’d sealed up.
For now, Lieutenant Eve Dallas stuck her frozen hands
in the warm pockets of her coat and looked down at death.
The woman lay at the bottom of the short stairway
leading down to what appeared to be a lower-level apartment. From the
angle of the head, Eve didn’t need the medical examiner to tell her the neck
was broken.
Eve judged her as middle forties. Not wearing a coat, Eve mused,
though the vicious wind wouldn’t trouble her now. Dressed for business—
suit jacket, turtleneck, pants, good boots with low heels. Probably
fashionable, but Eve would leave that call to her partner when Detective
Peabody arrived on scene.
No jewelry, at least not visible. Not even a wrist unit.
No handbag, no briefcase or file bag.
No litter, no graffiti in the stairwell. Nothing but the body, slumped
against the wall.
At length she turned to the uniformed officer who’d responded to the
911. “What’s the story?”
“The call came in at two-twelve. My partner and I were only two blocks
away, hitting a twenty-four/seven. We arrived at two-fourteen. The owner of
the unit, Bradley Whitestone, and an Alva Moonie were on the sidewalk.
Whitestone stated they hadn’t entered the unit, which is being rehabbed—
and is unoccupied. They found the body when he brought Moonie to see the
apartment.”
“At two in the morning.”
“Yes, sir. They stated they’d been out this evening, dinner, then a bar.
They’d had a few, Lieutenant.”
“Okay.”
“My partner has them in the car.”
“I’ll talk to them later.”
“We determined the victim was deceased. No ID on her. No bag, no
jewelry, no coat. Pretty clear her neck’s broken. Visually, there’s some other
marks on her—bruised cheek, split lip. Looks like a mugging gone south.
But . . .” The uniform flushed slightly. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
Interested, Eve gave a go-ahead nod. “Because?”
“It sure wasn’t a snatch and run, figuring the coat. That takes a little
time. And if she fell or got pushed down the stairs, why is she over against
the side there instead of at the bottom of the steps? Out of sight from the
sidewalk. It feels more like a dump. Sir.”
“Are you angling for a slot in Homicide, Officer Turney?”
“No disrespect intended, Lieutenant.”
“None taken. She could’ve taken a bad fall down the steps, landed
wrong, broke her neck. Mugger goes down after her, hauls her over out of
sight, takes the coat, and the rest.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It doesn’t feel like it. But we need more than how it feels. Stand by,
Officer. Detective Peabody’s en route.” As she spoke, Eve opened her field
kit, took out her Seal-It.
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