Shadow of Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

east on Route 119
between Ashby and Townsend. You know the Willard Brook State Forest?”
    â€œI’ve driven through there, sure. It’s a little ways past the Squannacook River, where I sometimes go trout fishing.”
    â€œTwisty road, all them big pine trees? No houses or gas stations or anything for maybe ten miles?”
    I nodded.
    â€œCahill plowed into one of the trees.”
    â€œAnd he died?”
    â€œYep. He was going way too fast, and his front tire blew out.” Horowitz made an exploding gesture with his hands. “There was a fire.”
    â€œDamn.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe it.”
    â€œBelieve it,” Horowitz said. “Your turn, Coyne.”
    â€œWait a minute,” I said. “I know about unattended deaths and all that, but why are you here?”
    â€œLooking for clues. Why else?”
    â€œYou’re investigating an automobile accident?”
    â€œWho said anything about an accident?”
    I looked at him. “You think he was murdered?”
    He rubbed his bristly chin. “Officially, it looks like an accident, all right. No evidence to the contrary at this point. We got forensics and the accident-scene crew checking it out. How well did you know Cahill?”
    I shrugged. “He’s done some work for me over the years. He’s very good. The best, actually. Thorough, absolutely discreet. Honest. Expensive. I knew him professionally more than personally, I guess you’d say. I liked him a lot.”
    â€œYou know he used to be a state cop?”
    I nodded. “Friend of yours, then?”
    â€œI got to know him when he was undercover in Lawrence
and Haverhill. The man had balls, I’ll give him that. Annoying habit of making up puns. You’d never know it to look at him, but he was absolutely fearless. He was undercover almost three years. Not a minute of it he wasn’t at risk. But he got the goods on ’em. When he testified, of course, that was the end of undercover for Cahill. They put him behind a desk. He hated that. Finished out his twenty years, retired, and started doing this.” Horowitz waved his hand around the office.
    â€œSo you’re investigating this—this car crash—because he used to be a state cop?” I said.
    He shook his head. “I told you too much already.” He arched his eyebrows at me. “Quid pro quo, Coyne.”
    I shook my head.
    â€œI’d really like to know what in hell Cahill was doing on Route 119 at midnight on a Sunday,” persisted Horowitz. “Where he was coming from, where he was going.”
    â€œOf course you’d like to know,” I said.
    â€œWho he’d been talking to, what he was looking for.”
    â€œKey questions, for sure.”
    Suddenly Horowitz reached across the table and grabbed my wrist. “Dammit, Coyne. Gordie’s dead. Don’t you get it?”
    â€œI can’t tell you what he was working on for me, Roger. You know that. Not without my client’s permission.” I looked meaningfully at where his hand held my wrist.
    He gave my wrist a squeeze, then let go of it. “Get it, then.”
    â€œYou really think—?”
    â€œI don’t know.” He leaned back in his chair, shook his head, and let out a long sigh. “For all I know, he had a heart
attack. But you’re a cop for twenty years, you accumulate a lot of enemies. You do PI work, you collect more of ’em. I owe it to Gordie to figure out what the hell happened, that’s all. Help me out, okay?”
    â€œI’ll talk to my client, see what I can do.” I stood up. “You want the rest of these muffins?”
    He shook his head. “Bring ’em to Julie or give ’em to your dog or something. I prefer blueberry.”
    I went to the outer office and picked up my briefcase.
    Horowitz followed behind me. “I’ll be calling you,” he said.
    I swept my hand around