The Christmas Killer Read Online Free PDF Page A

the handcuffed Sonny. ‘Can I tell my readers you have caught the killer – the derangedindividual who slaughtered a young mom before she could celebrate Christmas with her kid?’
    ‘You’re a dick, Ford,’ said Mills as they reached the car. ‘One of these days you’ll get what’s coming to you.’
    ‘Yeah, I will,’ said Ford. ‘A Pulitzer.’
    Jake just stood there.
Keep calm
, he told himself.
Remember Chicago.
    Suddenly Sonny lunged towards the reporter, trying to break free from Jake and Mills. ‘I didn’t do it!’ he shouted. ‘They’re trying to frame me, man!’
    Jake pushed past Chuck and bundled Sonny into the car before he could give Chuck any more for his article. The big man cursed as his head bumped the roof, but Jake didn’t care. He got in beside him while Mills got into the driver’s seat. Within seconds, Mills was pulling away from the kerb.
    Jake glared at the small, indistinct shape of Chuck Ford in the rear-view mirror.
    ‘Fucking journalists.’



8
Monday, 7.15 p.m.
    It was after six when they got back to the station, then it took an hour to get through the formalities of booking, taking prints and samples of Sonny’s DNA. There was a numbness in the air – the station had been looking forward to the Christmas party that had been scheduled for the following day, but an unclosed case was likely going to put paid to that. Jake had heard the station administrator – a sardonic woman in her fifties named either Gina or Tina – sounding out others about rescheduling it to the new year. Assuming the murderer was locked up before the 31st.
    Finally, with the district attorney called in, the detectives were ready to interview the boyfriend.
    Ninety-nine cases out of a hundred …
    ‘I’m telling you,’ said Sonny, addressing every word to his attorney, ‘Marcia was fine when I left her last night.’
    The suspect’s voice wavered, but that wasn’t necessarily a sign of guilt. Maybe he was just cold. Jake had had the heat turned off in the interview room, and withhis parka taken as evidence, Sonny’s thin black T-shirt wasn’t doing much for his core temperature in the small windowless interview room. Hard chairs, a black table and a tape recorder fixed to the wall made the place look about as luxurious as the average holding cell.
    ‘Lots of things can happen in a night,’ said Mills. ‘She’s dead now.’
    Sonny fell silent. His big hands came up to his face and he clenched them. For a moment his hands struggled against the restraining cuffs. Then he dropped them again and scowled.
    ‘Look, she was my woman,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t hurt her.’
    ‘So what happened?’ Jake asked.
    ‘I don’t know. She left for work at seven. Dropped Kelly over to that nosey bitch who watches her.’
    ‘Why didn’t
you
watch her?’ snapped Jake.
    ‘Busy, man. I was out of there by eight.’ He looked again at his attorney, who nodded. ‘Spent the night with my girl over on Cherry Orchard,’ he admitted.
    Jake looked at Mills. Cherry Orchard was a poor area very close to Glendale. That put Sonny near the dump site. He was looking better and better. On the other hand, his shock had seemed genuine. And he didn’t strike Jake as the sadistic type. Was there a way to get Sonny to confess? Jake’s plan was to bide his time with this one. Once the forensics were done and they could see if they’d found any DNA, they would have a betteridea of whether he was their man. But for now he’d ask some questions and see what happened.
    ‘And there’s me thinking you had a girl here on Washington,’ said Jake.
    ‘No law says a man can’t have two girls,’ said Sonny, his voice so quiet Jake thought it might not register on the tape.
    ‘OK,’ said Jake. ‘But it doesn’t make you look like a decent guy.’
    ‘My client has already told you where he was,’ said the attorney, George Vincennes, with an exaggerated sigh, his puff of breath visible. ‘He was dancing at the Boom Box,