Live Bait Read Online Free PDF

she’d been Arlen Fischer’s housekeeper for thirty-two years, came three times during the week by bus and every Sunday morning, also by bus, to help him get ready for the nine o’clock service at
St Paul of the Lakes Lutheran. She was well compensated, cared for him like a brother, and couldn’t imagine who would want to hurt him. And yes, those books were supposed to be on the coffee table, along with a lovely tapestry runner she’d bought him for his eightieth birthday, and no, she hadn’t moved anything.
    ‘Was the tapestry runner very valuable?’
    Her watery eyes crinkled. ‘Well, you don’t often find one with birds on it; certainly not bluebirds; and yes, it was a bit pricey. Eighty dollars plus tax.’ She leaned a little closer to him and confided in a whisper, ‘But I got it on clearance. Nineteen ninety-nine.’
    Langer smiled back at her. ‘Quite a bargain.’
    ‘Indeed it was.’
    Langer thanked her, gave her his card, then asked Frankie to drive her to the
Hennepin
County
Medical
Center
, stay with her until she’d been examined, then drive her home.
    Frankie sighed miserably. ‘You know what the ER at HCMC looks like on a Sunday?’
    Langer shrugged apologetically. ‘She lives alone, Frankie, she’s self-medicating, and she’s still shivering in that hot box of a car. I’m a little worried about shock.’
    ‘Okay, okay, but you should have been a missionary or something.’
    He and McLaren stood in the driveway and watched the squad pull away.
    ‘So now what are you thinking?’ McLaren asked. ‘That the shooter moved the books to steal a twenty-dollar tapestry runner?’
    ‘Don’t forget, it had bluebirds on it. You don’t often find those.’
    ‘Jeez, Langer, was that you trying to be funny?’
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘Well stop it. You’re scaring me.’
    An hour later, Jimmy and his crew were still at it, but things were wrapping up. Langer and McLaren found him prone on the living room floor with a tape measure and a notebook, scribbling down figures.
    ‘Hey, Jimmy,’ McLaren said with as much cheer as he could muster after spending Sunday morning in a murder house. ‘You got this thing solved yet?’
    Grimm gave him a tired smile and got to his feet with some effort. ‘At this point, I’m not even sure we have a homicide. Next time, try to get a body, guys. It’ll make things a lot easier. You hear back from the hospitals?’
    McLaren thumbed through his notebook. ‘Yeah. Only gunshot wounds reported last night were from a couple of sixteen-year-old gangbangers trying to pop each other with .22’s. The best they could do was soft tissue stuff, no artery hits . . .’
    ‘It wasn’t a .22.’ Jimmy held up a little bag with a slug inside. ‘.45 caliber, and some nice rifling, by the way.’
    ‘.45, huh? Well, in that case, whoever got shot here last night didn’t make it to any hospital or clinic we know about.’
    ‘Then he’s dead,’ Grimm said matter-of-factly, looking at the sofa.
    Langer followed his gaze, feeling a little queasy. ‘That’s a lot of blood.’
    Jimmy shrugged. ‘Looks worse than it is. I’ll have to run saturation tests to be sure, but at first blush I’d say your victim left this house alive. There’s not nearly enough blood for a heart shot. I’m guessing an extremity. But arteries don’t heal themselves. He’d bleed out in a hurry without medical attention of some sort, and there’s not a drop of blood anywhere else in the house.’
    McLaren grunted. ‘So somebody shot him, bagged him, and carried him out, which means we’re looking for a sumo wrestler. According to the housekeeper, Arlen Fischer weighed over three hundred pounds.’
    Jimmy Grimm was rocking back and forth on his heels, grinning at them. ‘Nobody carried him out.’
    ‘Yeah? What then? Aliens sucked him up from the couch?’
    ‘Better than that.’ Jimmy smiled, enjoying his secret.
    ‘Jesus Christ, Langer, throw him down, I’m going to take the pliers to his