The Killer in My Eyes Read Online Free PDF Page B

in. I warn you, it isn’t a pretty sight.’
    As he followed Burroni, Jordan took a rapid glance around. The indescribable chaos of the loft was illumined by a limpid spring light that seemed strangely peaceful in a place like this – a place from which Jerry Ko had waged war on himself and the world.
    And then he saw him.
    Jordan did all he could to remain impassive. He crouched beside his nephew’s body and contemplated the wide-open eyes, the doll-like red paint, the grotesqueness of his position.
    ‘So far,’ Burroni said, ‘we think he was strangled first and then arranged like that. Death took place a few hours ago.’
    Jordan indicated the clear areas on the wrists and ankles where the paint had come away. ‘These marks will have been left by whatever was used to immobilize him. Maybe adhesive tape.’
    ‘Looks likely. That should come out in the post mortem.’
    ‘What else is the crime team saying?’
    Burroni shrugged, indicating the rest of the loft. ‘Have you seen this place? It doesn’t look as if it’s ever been cleaned. Whatever we find could have belonged to anyone, any time over the past hundred years.’
    ‘And what’s this stuff?’ Jordan pointed to the victim’s finger stuck in his mouth and the blanket he was holding pressed to his ear.
    ‘Glue. They’ve taken a sample and should be able to tell us something once they’ve analyzed it.’
    ‘And the paint?’
    ‘He painted himself. His dealer says he often used this technique in his work.’
    At this point, Christopher Marsalis himself arrived, followed as always by his right-hand man, Ruben Dawson. They heard him from the entrance, berating the Medical Examiner.
    ‘Christ, doesn’t it mean anything any more, being the Mayor of this fucking city? Do what you have to do! Get the body out of here as quickly as possible!’
    Still crouching, Jordan waited for the moment when his brother walked past the shelves and was able to see the state his son had been reduced to.
    And that was precisely what happened.
    Jordan saw Christopher’s face first turn to stone then somehow crumble, and his eyes become strangely opaque. He didn’t know how much longer his brother had to live, but Jordan knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had died at that moment.
    Chris turned abruptly and disappeared behind the shelves. Jordan stood up. Through the paint cans, he saw his brother hide his face in his hands. He went to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Christopher knew it was him without seeing him.
    ‘Jesus Christ, Jordan, who could have done something like this?’
    ‘I don’t know, Chris, I really don’t know.’
    ‘I can’t even look at him, Jordan. I can hardly believe that’s my son.’
    Christopher placed his arm on the wall and leaned on it with his back turned and his head bowed. He remained in that position while what was left of Jerry Ko was lifted, placed in a body bag, and taken out of the room on a gurney.
    The four men – Christopher, Jordan, Detective Burroni and Ruben Dawson – were silent for a long moment. Christopher was the first to speak. He gestured at the wall against which his son’s body had been propped and said thickly, ‘What the fuck does this number mean?’ There was anger in his voice, but he had regained some of his self-control.
    Jordan took a deep breath and moved away from the others. Within a second or two, it was as if he was no longer with them. Over the years, he had discovered that he had remarkable powers of visualization. When he was still at the Police Academy, the psychologist conducting the aptitude tests had been astonished by his abilities.
    Following his instinct, he stared at the wall until it disappeared.
    He saw Gerald’s body being dragged over and propped against the wall, then being placed in that absurd pose, and the hand drawing the cloud and . . .
    ‘It’s a Code T9,’ he said, as if stating the obvious.
    Three heads turned to look at him. ‘What’s a Code T9?’ Ruben