Among Thieves Read Online Free PDF

could see flies buzzing
     around a dark pool of congealed blood spread out from his black hair.
    “Not much left of the back of his skull,” McAfee commented. “Looks like they used shredders. Pretty much blew off the back
     half of his head.”
    “Nasty,” Stone said with a frown.
    “Effective,” Sanchez replied. “Any other points of entry?”
    McAfee shook his head. “Just the head, from what we can tell. Doc’ll confirm it with the autopsy.”
    “Anything else? Cuts? Contusions? Anything?”
    “Just the arm,” McAfee said. “Looks like it was pulled out of the socket. Could’ve happened when he fell after he got popped.”
    Sanchez lingered over Smith’s body for another minute or two, drinking in the scene. Other than the body and the stagnant,
     well-defined mat of blood underneath the head, the area was neat and tidy, with tools stacked in an orderly fashion on top
     of the utility cabinets. She pulled back the jacket and patted it down. There was nothing in the pockets. A shoulder holster
     was strapped to his torso, and a gun was tucked into it.
    “Okay,” Sanchez said at last. “Let’s see Murphy.”
    McAfee nodded. “The main attraction. If either of you have a weak stomach…”
    “Just show us the body, Sergeant,” Sanchez said.
    McAfee said nothing, but led them to a mechanics’ bay at the very rear of the building. It shot off from the main space, and
     was concealed from view. They rounded the corner, and Sanchez heard Stone suck in his breath.
    Murphy’s body was there. At least, she assumed it was Murphy’s body. It was difficult to tell given the amount of damage.
     It looked more to her like two hundred pounds of ground beef covered in torn clothing than what she remembered of Vinny Murphy.
     It didn’t appear that any spot on the body had escaped violence.
    “Holy shit,” Stone whispered softly.
    “Nothing holy about it,” Sanchez said. “An impressive piece of work, though.” She moved slowly toward the body, being careful
     not to disturb the scene. “Are the pictures done?” she asked.
    “All done,” McAfee replied. “The whole lovely scene has been recorded for posterity.”
    “Crime scene?”
    “They’ve done all they can do until the body is moved out. Prints, scrapings, the works. They’ll do it all again once we’ve
     cleared out, but they think the place is pretty clean.” He tossed her a box of latex gloves. “He’s all yours.”
    She took two gloves out of the box and passed it to Stone, who did the same. They both pulled the gloves on and advanced toward
     the body.
    “Jesus,” Stone said as he looked at the area that had once been Vince Murphy’s face. “What did they use?” Sanchez said nothing.
    “Not sure,” McAfee said after a moment. “Could have been chains. There were a bunch of them hanging over in the corner, and
     it looked like there could’ve been blood on them. The crime scene boys bagged ’em and we’ll know soon enough. Doc should also
     be able to get us a read on any patterns to the abrasion, which may tell us something.”
    Stone moved slowly around the corpse. Sanchez watched him out of the corner of her eye. She was annoyed at the distraction
     of having him there, but said nothing. He was her partner, after all, at least for the moment, and there was no way to prevent
     his participation. As long as he was careful to stay out of her way, she could live with it. “Shit, they even got the bottoms
     of his feet,” Stone said.
    “Yup,” McAfee said, using a fingernail to pick some of his breakfast free from his teeth. He pointed to a hook hanging from
     a hydraulic lift used to get engine blocks into and out of cars. “Looks like they had him strapped to that for at least part
     of the time. They found a couple of torn pieces from his shirt on the hook.”
    “Why?” Stone said to no one in particular.
    “I guess that’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it?” McAfee said. “My guess is that he