Stolen Souls Read Online Free PDF Page A

minutes before the Police Service of Northern Ireland car to find something altogether different. “I never saw the like of it,” Watts said, shaking his head. His eyes watered and his breath misted. “Harbor work is quiet, you know? The odd bit of thieving, some traffic stuff, that’s about the height of it. Nothing like this, even when the Troubles was going full scud. They took his weapon, too.”
    “Shit,” Lennon said. Whoever was crazy enough to put a cop in the hospital was now also wandering the city with a Glock 17 in his pocket. He wrapped his overcoat tight around himself as the cold bit hard. Connolly approached from the direction of the water, his fluorescent yellow jacket buttoned up tight.
    Lennon tugged the paramedic’s sleeve as he went to get back into the ambulance’s cabin. “How is he?” he asked.
    “Not great,” the paramedic said. “But I’ve seen worse. Apart from the cuts to his scalp, I don’t see any sign of damage to the skull, but we won’t know much until he has a scan. His vitals are good, though. We’re taking him to the Royal. Call A&E in an hour or so, they’ll have a better idea then.”
    “Thanks,” Lennon said. He turned to Connolly. “Well?”
    “The dead man’s mid-thirties or thereabouts. Going by the tattoos and the clothes, I’d guess Eastern European. Looks like a stab wound to the throat did for him.”
    “All right,” Lennon said. “Let’s take a look.”
    They moved toward the body, but Watts called after them. “What do you want me to do?”
    Lennon considered telling him to go back to his office, he couldn’t be any help here, but he didn’t have the heart. Instead, he said, “Why don’t you stay with Constable Smith’s car? Make sure no one interferes with it before it gets cordoned off.”
    Watts looked up and down the darkened road. Even though there wasn’t a sinner to be seen, let alone threaten interference with the car, he said, “Aye, right, good thinking.”
    “Thanks,” Lennon said, grateful Watts hadn’t taken offense at the condescension. There was nothing useful the harbor cop could do here, but to send him away would be a greater insult than allocating a nonsense task.
    Lennon and Connolly made for the water again, their footsteps crisp on the frost.
    “It’s a cold one,” Connolly said to break the quiet.
    “Yep,” Lennon said.
    “How’s your wee girl?”
    “She’s fine.”
    “Good.”
    “Looking forward to Santa coming?”
    “Yes.”
    That thin trickle of conversation took them to the water’s edge, and the corpse wrapped in black plastic. The covering had torn away where the bundle had been dragged over the stones, and more had been pulled back to reveal the face and torso.
    “Did you open it up?”
    “Yeah,” Connolly said, “just so I could confirm no sign of life.”
    “Okay. But make sure it doesn’t get disturbed any more than it has been. The medical officer should be here soon. Aside from that, no one else touches him, right?”
    “Right,” Connolly said.
    “Torch,” Lennon said, holding his hand out.
    Connolly pulled a flashlight from his belt and gave it to him. Lennon shone the light on the ground so he could choose his footing without trampling any evidence. The beam found the length of electrical cord and a wad of material—what looked like a piece of torn bed sheet—that lay a few feet away.
    ‘What about these?’
    ‘They haven’t been touched,’ Connolly said. ‘Could be litter, there’s plenty of it lying about, but I don’t think so.’
    ‘Neither do I.’
    Lennon hunkered down beside the body. The face was round and blunt-featured, the hair cropped short, the mouth open to the night. Already frost formed on the lips. A deep gash beneath the chin spread into what resembled a dark red bib. “Doesn’t look like a knife,” Lennon said.
    “No?” Connolly asked.
    “Not clean enough.” Lennon held the torch beam close, light finding the recesses of the wound. “See how