Lifeless - 5 Read Online Free PDF

mass of bruises, some nearly an inch in diameter and there were bloody, half-moon-shaped indentations from the nails on the fingers and thumbs of the kil er.
    Thorne's hands drifted towards his throat. He closed his eyes.
    Was that chocolate bar his, Charlie? Did he give it you to keep you
    quiet? Or did he produce it himself, afterwards, and eat it slowly, watching
    her, while you were crying?
    There was massive bruising and abrasion to the floor of the mouth,
    the epiglottis and the lining of the larynx. The tongue had been al but bitten clean through. The crocoid cartilage was crushed, the thyroid cartilage virtual y unrecognisable and the hyroid bone was fractured. It was this internal damage which most clearly indicated the severity of the attack which led to Carol Garner's death.
    Did you see it happen, Charlie? Did he shut you out of the room, or did
    you stand and scream, and beat your tiny fists on his back and watch your mummy's eyebal s bulging out of their sockets?
    Thorne leaned down to pick up the coffee that he'd left on the floor

    by the sofa. It was stone cold. He looked at his watch. He'd been immersed in the details of death for wel over an hour. Thorne was as disturbed as always by this.., capacity he had.
    He'd tried reading crime fiction once but it had not suited him at al .
    He could barely read any so-cal ed thril er for more than a few minutes without starting to drift away, and yet a jargon-fil ed description of ruined flesh had him riveted. He was confident that there was nothing overly perverse in this. He could honestly say that he had never enjoyed watching an autopsy.
    The truth was that an intimate knowledge of real kil ers and real victims made him a difficult reader to please.
    Thorne had seen enough wild-eyed gunmen and bloodied blades, and soft-spoken, heavy-lidded perverts. He'd seen plenty of batterers and arsonists and smiling poisoners. He'd seen more than his fair share of damaged bodies: some dead, and others more damaged stil , left behind to remember.
    He'd seen holes in flesh and holes in lives.
    Thorne picked up his coffee cup and was heading for the kitchen to make another when the doorbel rang.
    Hendricks was standing on the doorstep wearing a floor-length black leather coat and watch cap. He was brandishing a blue-striped plastic bag that was threatening to break at any instant thanks to the vast quantity of cheap lager it contained. The accent hardly suited dramatic declamation, but he did his best. 'Let us drink beer and talk of death.'
    Thorne turned and headed back inside. Neither of them was big on ceremony. 'It sounds like you've already started on the drinking bit...'
    Hendricks slammed the outer door and fol owed Thorne inside. 'I've been doing both, mate. I've been with Dr Duggan most of the day...' He closed the inner door and moved into the living room. 'He the one who did the first post-mortem on Ruth Murray?'
    'She. Emma Duggan. Very good, and very fanciable, if you like that kind of thing.'
    Thorne shook his head and reached into the plastic bag that Hendricks was now cradling gently. 'Formaldehyde does nothing for me, sorry.'
    'And I've spent the last few hours up to my elbows in Ruth Murray myself, so yes,' Hendricks said, dumping the .bag on the sofa, 'I did have a couple on the way over.'
    While Hendricks took off his coat, Thorne opened a beer and picked up the CD remote control. He switched Cash's Solitary Man back to the beginning. The guitar kicked in on 'I Won't Back Down'.
    Thorne took the chair and Hendricks the sofa. It was a familiar and comfortable arrangement that, bar a few awkward weeks the year before, had been repeated at least weekly since Thorne had first moved in nearly eighteen months ago. He'd rattled around in the big house in Highbury for three years after his divorce, before final y taking the plunge and buying the flat He stil hadn't got used to the place. He did like the oatmeal IKEA sofa a lot better now it had a few beer stains, but