The Caller Read Online Free PDF Page B

bleed.
    ‘But before we even get to the gunshot, we had evidence of compressive asphyxia which is what I was saying about the diaphragm not being able to expand. I’d say the killer sat on the guy’s chest or pressed a knee down on it and the vic got the full force of his body bearing down on him. Subdued like that, the killer was able to assault him with what was probably a medium-sized hammer. With regard the facial injuries – you already saw that – extensive bruising and swelling, several irregular lacerations. The upper and lower lips showed external and internal lacerations … this is very common in homosexual killings.’
    ‘He was alive for all the facial injuries,’ said Danny.
    Hyland nodded. ‘He’d inhaled blood and teeth fragments.’
    ‘And what you’re saying is this guy was already dying when he was shot, he wasn’t able to breathe properly,’ said Danny.
    ‘Yeah,’ said Hyland. ‘I guess I could understand if the killer bashed his head in, then asphyxiated him. But on top of that, he shoots him? It’s cruel stuff. You can imagine, the man’s fighting for his every breath, putting all his strength into that, then he’s slammed in the face with the hammer. He’s focused on that agonizing pain, then back to fighting for breath, then pain again, everything mounting right ‘til the end. Then a gunshot wound. And that’s it. He’s gone.’
    ‘These wackos always got their own screwed-up reasons,’ said Danny. ‘Some of it is looking familiar to me, I gotta say. You remember William Aneto?’
    Joe shook his head.
    ‘Oh yeah. You weren’t here. It was me and Martinez. This gay guy on the Upper West Side. It just … there’s something about it rings a bell.’
    ‘If we’re done here …’ said Hyland. He pointed to Joe’s notebook. ‘I’m sure you got it all there.’
    ‘Yeah, until I get back and I find one word I can’t make out and nothing else makes sense without it.’
    ‘Well, if you need anything else, call me.’
    Joe nodded. ‘Thanks.’
    ‘Good luck,’ said Hyland. ‘You know, I wishwhen I dissected a brain I could find a little reel, like a victim’s-eye movie, so we could just sit back and watch a replay of what happened. It’d be foolproof in court for you guys, wouldn’t it? Slam dunk. Wouldn’t that be great? Or if I could find, like, a mental black box that would log the minute-to-minute psychological impact of what the victim’s been through. Although I’d say with this guy, it was all so horrific, a circuit somewhere would have blown.’
    Anna Lucchesi lay on the sofa in her pyjamas with a light fleece blanket over her. She was watching the fourth episode in a row of Grand Designs . A couple had renovated a country estate somewhere in England and she was now watching the car wreck that was their 80s taste in interiors. When she first started watching the show in Ireland, it was from a different vantage point in a house that fit. She was a rising star at Vogue Living and had overseen the renovation of a lighthouse and the keeper’s home beside it outside a small village in Waterford. She was doing the job she loved in a beautiful location with her husband and son cheering her on. Watching Grand Designs now, she felt like a disconnected outsider, sitting in a grim two-storey brick frame house in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn – not Brooklyn Heights, not Williamsburg, not even DUMBO. It was older, it felt safe, the neighbors were nice, but it held no spark for Anna.
    She stared towards the window, missing the sea view and waves that could get so loud, you had to close the window to hear people talk. The house had been peaceful and comfortable, with simple furniture and neutral tones. Then everything it represented was gone, shattered by Duke Rawlins. He wanted to destroy Joe. But he had underestimated his resilience. And when Anna thought of it now, she didn’t admire Joe for it, she resented him. Joe killed Donald Riggs and she paid the price. He was