Suspension Read Online Free PDF Page A

much like any other, a simple iron skeleton key. “Most likely a front-door key.” Tom held up the key.

    â€œNot much help,” Sam observed. Half the locks in the city had keys like that.
    â€œHelp me roll him over.”
    Sam stooped by the body and together he and Tom rolled the corpse on its left side.
    â€œWell, now, I guess we know what killed you, don’t we, Terrence?” Tom said, looking at the back of Bucklin’s head. “That’s as nasty a bash on the noggin as I’ve seen. Neat, though, wasn’t it, Sam, just a bit of blood?” Tom ran his hand over the matted hair. “Crushed the skull like an eggshell but barely broke the skin.” Tom leaned close to the body and spoke so low Sam could hardly hear him. “Didn’t know what hit you, did you, partner, just an unscheduled freight train smack in the back of the head. Next thing, you’re looking up from the gutter, with the world spinnin’.”
    Sam snuck a look at Tom out of the corner of his eye. Tom was looking closely at the back of Bucklin’s head, peeling back the blood-sticky hair to get a better look at the large depression. The skull was soft there, like a melon that had been dropped days before. A chill went through Tom at the feel of it. He pulled his hand away sticky with the cool brown blood of Terrence Bucklin’s broken head. Tom had plenty of experience with blood, and it rarely affected him one way or the other. He stood and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. Tom wiped the blood away and tried to keep from scrubbing too hard. He gazed around at the alley on either side of the body, his eyes measuring the place. He measured the distance from the body to the door to Paddy’s, the width of the alley, the packing crates that had once hidden the corpse. The alley was too narrow, too small. There was no way anyone could be out there and not be aware of another presence. Tom could not believe that a man could stand there and have his head crushed by surprise. The tall brick walls echoed and amplified every sound, and a step would be clearly heard from ten feet away. Then he fixed an eye on the tall gate that opened on Peck Slip.
    â€œCaught him comin’ over the gate,” Tom said with certainty, his words ringing off the brick walls.
    â€œWha’? How you figure that?”
    â€œLook,” Tom said as he walked to the gate. A small brown rivulet of dried blood ran down the green-painted boards. Braddock stepped on a crate to peer over the top. “Thought so. Came over the gate. Got hit as he went over. See the scrapes? Killer came over to finish the job.”
    Sam gave a puzzled frown, nodding as if he knew what the hell Braddock were talking about.
    Tom looked back at Sam. “See the cement dust? There’s scrapes from two different kinds of shoes here too. A little hard to see, but I’m pretty certain. He
was running from someone. Figured to duck into the alley and throw him off, I guess. Probably slipped getting over the gate. That would account for the scrapes. Lost some time and got caught going over. At least that’s how I’m seein’ it.”
    Sam nodded sagely. Tom looked back at the body. Terrence stared back up at Tom and Sam. He knew.
    Tom walked back to the body, bending over to feel in the back pockets. He tugged a wallet out. “A few greenbacks here. Looks to be a pay stub too, from the New York and Brooklyn Bridge company.”
    â€œSo Bob was right. He did work on the bridge,” Sam mused. Bob was something less than reliable.
    â€œSo it would appear. Did all right. Says here he was paid twelve dollars last week. He’s got, let’s see, ah, three and five is eight dollars and some change, maybe nine and a quarter all told.”
    â€œSo our killer didn’t care for money, or got scared off before he could take it. Plenty would kill for less than nine dollars and change,” Sam said.
    Tom