Some Degree of Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

hall. I walked slowly over to the area, trying hard to keep the anger from boiling over. The only green dumpster stood next to the building and the surrounding fence line. Nothing remained on the ground near the dumpster. I couldn’t determine exactly where she was found. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands and my teeth ground into each other.
    The smell of shit dragged me back to reality. I unclenched my fists and checked my shoes to see if I was the one carrying the smell around.
    Turning away from the dumpster, I pulled out a soft pack of Camels and shook a cigarette free. I lit it up, hoping to calm my nerves and kill the smell of crap that hung in the area. When it did neither, I left the parking lot.
    I wandered the streets, watching the area’s inhabitants and their activity. With black slacks and a polo shirt underneath a clean black jacket, I stood out like a blood stain on white carpet. For that reason I spent some time dropping into a couple of antique shops, a car parts outlet and an adult book store. All of the businesses, especially the sex shop, were dingy and depressing. The clerks stood behind their counters with watchful eyes, waiting for someone to snatch an item and bolt from their shops.
    Outside the stores, the eyes of the street were more watchful. Slow moving Buicks with middle-aged men behind the wheels prowled the streets. Their eyes flashed past the blacks who stood in the doorways of defunct businesses, waiting for the right customer to request their product. But the drivers didn’t want dope. They were looking for the drug that only men need.
    A number of women and girls in tight skirts sauntered up and down the sidewalks. Their slow walks emphasized their hips and signaled prospects that they were on the menu.
    More police cars traveled through this area in a half-hour than I had seen anywhere else in the world. All it told me was that everyone knew the action was down here. And no one seemed to be hiding it.
    Near the west end of the Sprague strip, sat a club house for the Brotherhood of the Southern Cross. Four mean looking Harleys stood out front of the square, white building. Heavy steel bars covered the windows and the front door. Two cameras, each at an opposite end, monitored the front of the building. I didn’t walk around to the back, but I was sure there would be cameras around there as well.
    Next to the clubhouse was the La Playa Motel and across the street was the Palms Motel. Two low cost stop-and-flops for the hookers and johns. I turned around and stared back down Sprague towards the activity. Cars whizzed past in both directions while the whores and dealers continued their work. Something nagged at me about the area but I couldn’t place it.
    I finally shoved the thought to the back of my brain and walked back toward downtown, trying to figure out what the hell my daughter was doing in this part of River City.

Tuesday, April 13 th
1310 hrs
Investigative Division
TOWER
     
    The smell of fresh coffee caught my attention before Katie MacLeod’s perfume did. I glanced up as she sat the paper coffee cup down on my desk.
    “Black,” she said and winked. “With one hazelnut creamer.”
    I reached for the cup. “What are you drinking?”
    “Foo-foo crap .”
    I sipped the java and nodded my thanks. Katie leaned on the edge of my desk. “Can I run one by you?”
    ”Go ahead.”
    “It’s a burglary case,” she told me. She was a detective third grade and worked in the General Investigative Division, which worked property crimes and lower level crimes against persons. After five years, she could promote to second grade. It took a promotion to Major Crimes or the Sexual Assault Unit to make first grade.
    “Residential?”
    “Yeah. Witness goes over to his friend’s house and as he’s walking up the sidewalk, he sees a guy walking out of the front door of the house with a TV. It’s not his friend, so he yells at the guy. The guy with the TV walks as fast as he