The Canal Read Online Free PDF Page A

not this time. This time it was
war.
    When he and Vincent finally got on board, the
spectacle wasn't pretty. The propeller was churning up long dormant
pockets of canal filth -- big, ballroom odors, specters of gut
crunch. Vincent tried breathing through his tie. The boat moved
carefully into position, until the rum of dead flesh was almost as
strong as the smell of the canal. Alan leaned over the side to get
his first close look.
    "Oh man, how long you think it's been out
here?" asked Vincent.
    "I'd guess no more than 24 hours," said Alan.
"Any more than that and the bugs would have turned it to mud by
now."
    The skull, a bulb of bloody white, stood out
in stark contrast against a gorilla costume of gore. The eye
sockets were empty. The abdominal organs were missing.
    Alan motioned Vincent closer. "When you
hunt," he said, "you dress the animal. Gut it, skin it. You see the
similarity?"
    "I-I think so."
    But the job wasn't perfect -- the right foot
still wore a leather shoe, which hung by the grace of a tenacious
sinew, spinning in the drafts that belched from the canal. "And
this shoe -- business type, but low dollar. Its been shined
paper-thin."
    Alan leaned even closer, swatting at crowds
of flies."There seems to be some kind of oil," he said. "Gluey.
Sticky. Make sure you get a sample."
    "From the river maybe? Some sort
of...slime?"
    "Possibly. ...And here. Look at this." The
neck and chest were dotted with puncture marks.
    "Stab wounds?" said Vincent.
    "Something thin. Ice pick maybe, or a
screwdriver."
    "Nail, maybe?" said Vincent. "Or--"
    "PENCIL," shouted Womack, from above on the
bridge.
    "What?" Alan shouted.
    "IT COULDA BEEN A PENCIL."
    "All right, add pencil to the list," said
Alan. "WE'RE ADDING PENCIL TO THE LIST."
    "OKAY."
    "I still can't figure it though," said
Vincent. "I mean, to do something like this. What's the point? I
mean it's--"
    "It's just one more problem to solve, is what
it is. Remember, Vince -- focus on the details. The connections.
That's what's important."
    "I know, I know... But this sort of thing,
it's like the heat gets to people. It makes them act in ways that
aren't natural--"
    "OR RAPIER," yelled Womack.
    "What!" yelled Alan.
    "MAYBE IT WAS A RAPIER."
    "...Did he say rapier? Did he? WHAT THE HELL
IS A RAPIER?"
    "I...I'M NOT REALLY SURE."
    "Forget it, we've moved on."
    "WHAT?"
    "WE'VE ALREADY MOVED ON."
    "OH, OKAY."
    Alan looked at Vincent. "You all right? I
don't want this getting under your skin."
    "I'll-- I'll get over it."
    "Good. Because I want you back out here first
thing tomorrow. I'll make the autopsy, while you -- I want you
going back over every inch of this crime scene in daylight, you
hear me? And when you're finished, do a sweep of the entire canal,
from top to bottom, snooping in alleys and prying into people's
business, I want your eyes everywhere. Understood?"
    "Understood."
    "D'ANGELO... HEY, D'ANGELO."
    "Jesus. WHAT IS IT, WOMACK?"
    "AH, WE GOT SOMETHING."
    And with that, Alan was quickly back on
shore, back on the bridge. Could it really be this easy? Could they
have already caught a break? Womack ushered a woman his way,
someone from forensics, tweezers held aloft.
    "You're not gonna believe this," the woman
cried.
    Actually, Alan could believe it, once he got
a good look. She carried a paper roach, soaked in spit and still
smoking.
    "It's hand rolled," she announced, squirming
with a passion for evidence: body fluids, foreign hair,
fingernails, pollen, spatters. She talked about tobacco brands and
rolling papers and purveyors. Cigarettes like this were rare,
they'd make a suspect stand out.
    Alan just closed his eyes.
    "...Are you okay, detective?"
    Sometimes anger wasn't sufficient. Sometimes
Alan needed something beyond anger, some new territory to explore,
a place of unmitigated and reckless fury. A red-tinted land, a lush
Galapagos of profanity, where abuse and disparagement were the coin
of the realm. Normally, Alan would be entering this place now.
    But today