The Shoulders of Giants Read Online Free PDF Page B

‘Just the facts, Ma’am.’, but I felt it might be seen as trivializing the situation, so I just shrugged.
    “There’s not much yet. She was found in the trunk of that car.” He pointed to a battered old Volkswagen, which was being hooked up to a tow truck, presumably on its way to the crime lab. “M.E. says she’s been dead at least forty-eight hours. Car’s been here since mid-afternoon yesterday. No license plates, so we’re running checks on the VIN, and going over the car for physical evidence.”
    “Cause of death?” I asked, as if I did this every day.
    “Not established yet. Looks like she was injected with something. Dilated pupils could suggest narcotics, although I understand she was out partying before she disappeared, so maybe that’s nothing to do with it. Looks like the cut was peri-mortem, like the others.”
    “Peri-mortem?”
    “Around the time of death. M.E. says the first victim, West, was probably cut before he was killed, cause he had bruises around his ankles like someone had held them still while they cut his foot. The girl on the beach and this one don’t have the bruises, so probably he killed them first then cut them. Either way, it was right before or after. We’ll know more after the post.” I heard the zip of the bodybag behind me and spun round. The zip was fully closed, and the medical technicians loaded her into the back of the van.
    “Listen,” said Scott, “I’m telling you this stuff because you’ve been working the case, and because we’re friends. Now you need to tell us everything you’ve found out about her. Where she went, who she was with, everything.”
    “Sure, why don’t I come down to the station and write it up? I’ll need to swing by my place and pick up my notes.” I was putting off having to go and see my client. I imagined him opening the door to a pair of detectives, men he had worked with, men who hated him for what they believed he did, but who took no pleasure in what they had to tell him. That his only daughter was dead.
    An obese man in an ill-fitting security guard’s uniform came towards us with a video tape in his hand. “I got it.” He said. “You can’t see much.”
    Scott introduced him to me as Mr Hagerty, the security guard who found the body.
    “Yup,” said Hagerty, “We open at five, and this car hadn’t been paid for today, so I came along to put a fine on it. That’s when I noticed the smell. I jimmied the trunk, and that’s when I called you guys.”
    We were joined by Scott’s partner, Sgt. Al Freedman, to watch the fuzzy black and white security video. The car we had just been standing by drove into a space on the left hand side of the picture, and ended up facing away from the camera. In my mind’s eye I could see what was in the trunk, but on film it was just any other car. After what seemed like a long time, the driver’s door opened, and someone got out. They were wearing a fleece jacket with some kind of logo on it, driving gloves and a baseball cap. Their face never turned towards the camera. In a few steps they were off the screen, and that was the end of the show.
    “I can’t find him on any other tapes.” said Hagerty.
    “We’ll still need to take them all, just to be sure.”
    The tape ran again.
    “Can you zoom in on this section here?” I asked, pointing to the logo on the jacket.
    “What do I look like? CIA? I’m a security guard. This is a VCR. No, I cannot ‘zoom in’.”
    “That’s fine,” said Scott, jumping in, “We’ll take it from here.”
    As I got into my car, I promised Scott I’d see him later at the station to tell him what I’d learned. Freedman and I nodded goodbye to one another. We had met a few times, but we never really hit it off. I had a feeling my new profession wouldn’t help matters. He was a third generation cop, with little time for P.I.’s.
    I decided to be unselfish, and face up to the fact that I had to see Gregory Patterson. There was never going to