Sign Of The Cross Read Online Free PDF

fingers across it, probing the shallow grooves with slow, tender strokes.
    Maria stood back, confused by his strange behavior. She wanted to ask him what the hell was going on, why he was acting more bizarre than he normally did, but all it took was a single glance and she knew the answer. One look at his face and everything made sense.
    Her mentor, the one man she actually trusted and believed in, was hiding something.

6
    Walking to the shore near the rear of the castle grounds, Nick Dial realized the Danish police would never solve the case. Unless, of course, there was a witness that he didn’t know about or a security camera that had inadvertently taped the crime. Otherwise the cops’ methods were too sloppy to nail anyone. No pun intended. Not only had they moved the body, but they had done very little to protect the integrity of the crime scene.
    In a perfect world, they would’ve sealed off the entire area, building temporary barriers that would’ve kept people out and cut down on the gusts of wind that blew in from the sound. Instead, officers strolled across the beach like they were on vacation, kicking up sand and blatantly ignoring the rules of evidence.
    ‘Excuse me, are you Mr Dial?’
    Dial turned to his right and stared at a well-dressed woman who was heading his way. She pulled out her badge and held it up for him to scrutinize.
    ‘Yeah, I’m Dial,’ he finally said.
    ‘I’m Annette Nielson from the NCB in Copenhagen. I was the agent who phoned in the initial report this morning.’
    Dial shook her hand and smiled, half surprised that the local field office had sent a woman to handle such a high-profile case. Not that he had anything against female investigators, because he didn’t, but he knew most executives at Interpol were far less open-minded than he. ‘Nice to meet you, Annette. Please call me Nick.’
    She nodded and pulled out her notepad. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been trying to get the local chief to talk to me. He keeps making excuses, though.’
    Typical,
Dial thought to himself. ‘What can you tell me about the victim?’
    ‘Caucasian male, mid-thirties, no tattoos or piercings. Death occurred sometime this morning, probably around dawn. Puncture wounds in his hands, feet, and rib cage. Severe damage to his face and mouth. Leads us to believe that he was beaten into submission.’
    ‘Do we have a name?’
    She shrugged. ‘The locals took his prints, but I don’t know if they have the results yet.’
    ‘Point of access?’
    ‘Best guess is the beach. The front of the castle is well-lit and guarded. So is the interior. Unfortunately, by the time I got here, the locals had covered any footprints with their own.’
    ‘Number of assailants?’
    ‘Multiple. The cross is too heavy for just one.’
    ‘Anything else?’
    ‘They left a note.’
    ‘They left a
what
? Show it to me.’
    She led him to the cross, which sat in the lawn near the edge of the sand. The body was nowhere to be found. ‘The note was painted on a walnut sign and affixed to the top of the cross with a long spike driven vertically.’
    Dial read the message aloud. ‘IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER .’
    He kneeled next to the sign for a closer look. The letters were five inches high and hand-painted in red. Very neatly done. Like the killer had taken calligraphy lessons in his spare time. Right before his advanced course in woodworking. ‘I’m assuming this isn’t blood.’
    ‘Red paint,’ she concurred. ‘We’re tracking down the shade and the manufacturer. Who knows? We might find a bucket of it in a nearby Dumpster.’
    ‘I doubt it. This sign wasn’t made around here. The killers brought it with them.’
    ‘Why do you say that?’
    Dial put his nose next to the board and took a whiff. ‘Three reasons. One, the sign is dry, which wouldn’t be the case if they’d painted it this morning. There’s too much moisture along the shore for anything to dry quickly. Two, if they’d painted it