A Dream of Death Read Online Free PDF

fourteen hundred for his
interview.”
    I nodded, thinking of the pain he must be in and wondering
if his healing process had even begun. How could it? The love of his young life
lay on an autopsy table, and the home they shared was under police guard and
taped off with a yellow line.
    With my years in homicide I knew enough to remark at the
stupidity of my prior thought. The family of a murder victim would not be able
to begin their healing process, until the killer had been brought to justice—be
it rotting in a pine box or in a jail cell.
    Another detective had been tasked with speaking to the
victim’s parents and younger sister, informing them of the death and trying to
gather any information they could. Dupuis had been born and raised in London,
where she met Franchini at a college party. They hit it off, began dating, he
became a police officer, she an accountant. They decided to move south of the
city, closer to Franchini’s work and away from the high taxes imposed upon
Londoners. It was a move that led to her death. Her family could offer very
little: she had no enemies, no jealous ex-boyfriends, no one who would want to
do her harm. They couldn’t begin to understand it, they didn’t want to.
    “I want you to do the interview,” I said.
    “Are you sure? I’m more for interrogations, I don’t know if
I’ll be able to handle a grieving widower.”
    “Trust me, Kara, you’ll do fine. I wouldn’t give it to you
if I thought you’d screw it up.”
    “Thanks.” There was the smile that could brighten our dank
little corner of the world. It had become a rarity although I could not say
that I smiled more often, the weight of this case was bearing down on us both.
Perhaps it was time for two titans to shrug.
     
    * * *
     
    I had sent Kara off with a pat and the back and some words
of encouragement then sat staring at the new set of pictures for almost an
hour. I walked down to the interview room and listened to Kara and Derek
talking. Both were crying, going through the box of Kleenex left on the table
like someone was going to take it away. Maybe I’d been an ass for sending Kara
in there, even though I knew she could handle it and that it would make her a
better investigator. She was strong. No one could have survived that interview.
I picked up another box of tissues, knocked on the door then entered and
apologized for my intrusion. I put the box on the table then leaned into Kara.
    “I can take over,” I said in a whisper.
    “I’m fine,” she told me and gave a near imperceptible wave
of dismissal. Since I wasn’t needed, off to the cafeteria for another green tea
and some lunch.
    “Lincoln,” I heard George say, “empty seat.” He pointed at
the seat to his left, ignoring the fact that of the six chairs at the table
only his was occupied.
    “In a minute.” I walked to the line to wait for my food. A
few minutes later with an egg salad sandwich and a fresh tea in hand I sat at
the table across from George.
    He asked the dreaded question. “How’s it going?”
    “Another killing, you probably heard.”
    “Yeah, cop’s wife, eh?”
    I nodded. “Kara’s interviewing him right now. I got one of
the many detectives we have lying around to scribe it.”
    “Watch the video later or read the Cliff’s notes?”
    “Both, probably. I just can’t wrap my head around this guy.”
    George nodded at me to go on. Our usual banter.
    “The first victim, Jennifer Louise McEachern, neé Patterson.
Born July seventeenth, sixty-three, Brandon, Manitoba. Moved to London in
eighty-one, went to UWO and Althouse to become a teacher. Taught high school
until for twenty years, then took a job as vice-principal at East Elgin High
School in Aylmer.”
    “South of the city like the rest of them.”
    I grunted agreement. “She and her husband, Brent, moved to
Port Stanley. He works at Ford Talbotville. Was going to retire early when the
plant closed its doors this summer but I figure he won’t go back. Kids