The Corporal Works of Murder Read Online Free PDF

sniffed. “Who in his right mind would risk killing a policeman?”

    Watching Sister Mary Helen walk the short half block to the Refuge, Kate realized how hot and thirsty she really was. Iced tea sounded pretty tempting to her. Gallagher and she were nearly done at the crime scene. The coroner had taken the body. They would only be in the way of the technical team. Actually, they should drop by the Refuge for more than a cold drink. If anybody had any idea why this woman had been shot, that’s probably where they’d hear it.
    She scanned the crowd for her partner and spotted him standing over a wire cart. It was stuffed to overflowing with plastic bags. “This looks like something my mother had,” Kate said, joining him beside the cart.
    â€œThis looks like what every housewife in the good old days used to carry her groceries home in.” Gallagher ran his finger
around his shirt collar. “Geez, it’s hot out here.”
    â€œWhose is it, anyway?” Kate used the pencil in her hand to move the quilt, stuffed like a lid over the top.
    â€œA couple of women I talked to said they thought it belonged to the victim.”
    Kate let the quilt fall back in place. “I’ll go through it,” she said. “It might give us some idea who this woman is—was,” she corrected herself. “There must be a next-of-kin to notify.”
    â€œBe my guest,” Gallagher said with a slight bow toward the rickety cart.
    Repelled by the thought of what might be in all those bags, Kate pulled a pair of rubber gloves from her trench coat pocket and slipped them on. Squaring her shoulders, she gingerly peeled off the quilt. Instantly she wished she’d held her breath. The grimy, musty smell was overpowering.
    â€œYou never know what you’ll find,” Gallagher said, watching Kate open the first plastic bag.
    â€œI don’t need to be reminded,” Kate said, a shiver running up her spine.
    The bag was filled with other plastic bags. She found another that was full of dirty clothes. Another contained soap, shampoo, and some partially used hand lotion. So far nothing interesting.
    Kate was about halfway through them when she discovered a worn tennis shoe that seemed unusually heavy. The moment she pulled it out of the cart, she saw the reason. The black handle of a 40 caliber, semiautomatic Beretta was wedged into the heel of the shoe. The barrel pointed toward the toe.
    â€œDenny,” she called, trying to keep her voice even, “look what I found.” Carefully she removed the gun from its hiding place. It was SFPD issue, exactly like her own.
    All at once her heart dropped and she felt the bile rising in her throat. She knew exactly where she had seen that lovely face before, that smooth pink skin. In the elevator of the Hall of Justice. The victim was another cop!

    â€œWhat the hell? Gallagher was at her side.
    â€œShe’s on the force,” Kate whispered, showing him the gun. “I’ve seen her at the Hall. She’s Vice.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Gallagher’s face was solemn.
    â€œAlmost positive,” Kate said. “And I think I know why she dressed like that,” she said softly.
    â€œIf she was undercover she probably wanted to look like her elevator didn’t go all the way up,” her partner guessed.
    Kate shook her head. “It’s her hair,” she said. “She had a head of wild auburn curls. Anyone who had ever seen her hair would recognize her immediately, so she had to cover it with that white cloth. Although her skin was a dead giveaway. I should have realized that she had redhead skin.”
    â€œI thought redheads had freckles.” Gallagher studied Kate’s face.
    She felt her cheeks flush. “That’s just some redheads, like me,” she said. “Other redheads like Sarah have that delicate, white skin that burns easily.”
    â€œYeah, I guess.” Gallagher