Fine Blue Steele (Daggers & Steele Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page A

knew what she was getting into when I liberated her from that construction site all those years back,” I said. “Besides, it’s not the worst thing she’s been subjected to.”
    “Creepy,” said Steele in a high, undulating voice.
    Right. I shut my yapper and kept sifting. Amidst the refuse, I found plenty of the usual: old newspapers, spoiled food, a few tattered rags that might’ve once been clothes, crumpled flyers for local bars and peep joints, and a rat that was very much alive and unhappy about its current housing situation. But there were also some oddities: the cracked remnants of a ceramic vase, a bent metal plate that looked as if it had served one too many tours of duty, and a fair amount of ashes, either from wood or charcoal. The latter wasn’t particularly odd, except for the fact that the spent fuel emitted an interesting aroma. A floral one, and not unpleasant. Considering the alternative, I didn’t complain.
    Quinto finished sifting though his share of the garbage, and despite his mockery, I’d noticed he’d primarily used his feet. Who’s the hypocrite now, big guy?
    “Find anything?” I asked.
    “Not really,” he said. “You?”
    I shook my head. “Not unless you count the remains of this vase, and I don’t think Tim or Drake asked their assailant for a break, dug around in the trash for an urn, smacked the hobo over the head with it, and then stashed the scraps.”
    “Probably couldn’t have killed anyone with it anyway,” said Steele as she wandered over.
    “You done with your inspection?” I asked.
    “Just finished,” she said.
    “How convenient.”
    Shay flashed that malicious grin I was sure she’d been wearing before. She shrugged in response.
    “So did you glean anything from your endeavors that us plebeians couldn’t have?” I asked.
    “The blood I showed you is recent, no doubt about it,” said Steele. “The spray pattern indicates someone was hit, not that someone fell. And while I did find scuff marks on the brick, I didn’t see any that could’ve been left due to an impact with Sergeant Holmes’ face.”
    “So, basically,” I said, “you confirmed our suspicions.”
    “Someone needed to,” she said.
    “Quinto’s confusion not withstanding, I felt they were rather obvious.”
    “Says the man with trash juice on his shoes.” Shay’s eyes twinkled.
    I grumbled and took another look around me. The hobos at the end of the alley had smartly chosen not to return. At the cross street where they’d disappeared, smoke puffed from a chimney in the back of a building. Above me, high on the second floor of the ostentatious building with the leafy topping, a few windows stood open to the elements.
    I turned toward the mouth of the alley and called out. “Phillips! Hey, Phillips!”
    The clean cut young chap popped his head in and ran over. “Yes, sir, Detective. Any leads?”
    It wasn’t any of his business, but I could understand his curiosity. “Not so much. You said there were witnesses from the bar across the street? That heard fighting?”
    “That’s right,” said Phillips. “I think they’re still here, chatting with Gorman or Poundstone.”
    “Good. And what about these two buildings?” I indicated them with my thumb.
    “Um…I think this big one’s a church,” said Phillips. “And the one that backs into the alley…a bar, maybe?”
    “You’re a paragon of knowledge, Phillips,” I said.
    The kid looked at me blankly. “Um…what sir?”
    “Never mind,” I said. “Quinto, why don’t you go see what you can wring out of those barflies? Steele, you’re with me, as always. Let’s flex our vocal muscles and see what else we can learn about the events of last night.”
     

6
    Steele and I pushed our way through the wide double doors gracing the front of the church. As they closed behind us, I stopped, craned my neck to the sky, and stared.
    “Well,” I said. “I did not expect that.”
    Apparently, my initial characterization of