To Catch a Cook: An Angie Amalfi Mystery Read Online Free PDF

graffiti was scrawled over the paint.
    “Two floors up, Inspector,” the uniform at the door told him. “Elevator’s not working.”
    They never were in places like this, Paavo thought, which was probably for the best because few owners of such buildings would pay for their proper maintenance anyway. Riding one could cause more chills, thrills, and spills than found at Disneyland.
    At the top of the stairs more enlightening graffiti about the sexual habits of various residents filled a long, dark hallway. The debris and dirt on the floor crunched as he walked down the linoleum hall. With his partner on vacation this week, he wasn’t supposed to be going to death scenes, but handling paperwork and court dates, and investigating cases he already had. This week’s on-call team, Benson and Calderon, were mired down in a double homicide that involved a doctor and his wife who had been big-time contributors to the city’s mayor. Rebecca Mayfield and her partner, Bill Never-Take-A-Chance Sutter, were the backup team, but they had already gone out on a homicide investigation when this third call came in. Paavo should have looked to see if the moon was full last night. If so, it would have explained a lot.
    A patrol officer guarded the crime scene. Paavo signed the logbook, ducked under the yellow police tape, and stepped inside.
    Before him was a typical tenement apartment—the walls a dingy yellow, the single window sofilthy little sunlight came through. A torn shade covered the top half. The main room held an old sofa, coffee table, chair, and TV, and a kitchenette in one corner. Next to it was the bedroom, and beyond it, the bathroom. Drawers had been pulled from chests and upended. He was growing sick of that sight.
    Despite the drawers, he noticed that, unlike most of these tenement apartments, the floor and furniture weren’t covered with empty food containers and other garbage.
    A little girl sat on a tattered sofa. She had long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her bangs were thick, and cut straight across, a millimeter above blue eyeglass frames. The frames were the defining feature on her face, which was pale and plain. Her hands were folded on her lap, and brown eyes stared at him through the thick glasses.
    “Hello,” he said.
    “Hello.” Her voice was firm and no tears showed on her face. With her was a patrol officer Paavo knew, George McNally.
    “This is Jane Platt, Inspector,” McNally said. “She was the one who called nine-one-one when she found her grandfather.” McNally pointed toward the open door. “Jacob Platt is in the bedroom.”
    Paavo was surprised at the news that the calm-looking little girl had found the body. He’d seen adults fall apart over such discoveries. He didn’t remark on it, but gazed at her and nodded his approval. Her eyes held his a moment, then lowered.
    After a quick perusal of the living room, he carefully entered the bedroom. “Did you or anyone else touch anything, McNally?” he asked.
    “Didn’t need to,” McNally said.
    McNally certainly had no need to question thefact of the man’s death. The floor was covered with blood, and in the middle of it, Jacob Platt lay, shot point-blank in the forehead. The entry hole was small, with powder burns surrounding it. The way Platt had fallen made it possible to see that the entire back of his skull had been blown off. Paavo couldn’t help but think about the young girl finding this.
    The bedroom held a twin bed, a small, rickety dresser, the contents of it spilled onto the floor, and two enormous tables, standing side by side. Two high-intensity lamps stood on one table, plus some strange equipment. He recognized the soldering iron, wire cutters, fine-nosed implements, Bunsen burner, and microscope. The RS Mizar tester was a mystery, as was something called a Ceres Secure Moissanite Tester. Things started to make a little sense with the Raytech-Shaw faceter, the Diamond Jem cabbing machine, a centrifugal magnetic