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"It is thin, and it’s just a guess Another guess is that there was sos, which is an idea I canabout a lot of e amount of very expensive cocaine People have killed each other for just a snort of coke, let alone a fortune in it"

Crow grunted and shook his head He felt hi interest in the criminal aspect of the case He believed--knew--that he’d shot Ruger and that the bastard was dead or next to it somewhere in the fields or in the forest just beyond the Guthrie farm Probably the latter, and in that case his bones would turn to dust before anyone found hiely iave up its dead Just to be polite, he said, "So what’s next on the agenda for you guys?"

Ferro waved a hand "Oh, the investigation is proceeding We’re pursuing various leads We have tea you have bubkes"

"Meaning," Ferro nodded slowly, "that we have bubkes"

Crow sniffed "You know you’re never going to find hier is still in Pine Deep--ill find him"

Crow open his eyes and studied the cop "There’s some bad woods out there, Mr Ferro You sure about that?"

LaMastra shifted uncohed, and brushed a fleck of lint from his mud-​spattered cuffs Ferro smiled thinly at Crow "I am very damn sure about that, Mr Crow"

Crow closed his eyes, settled back against the pillow, looked up into his own interior darkness, and thought: Bullshit You’re never going to find him

Chapter 21

1

Dr Saul Weinstock snapped the cuff of the latex glove against his wrist, adjusted his surgical mask, and strolled into the autopsy suite in the Pinelands HospitalJohn Haood cutting er were two Elvis Costello albureatest hits albu

There were three autopsies stacked One was a little girl from Crestville, almost certainly a SIDS case, and the other tere tied into as going on in town Poor Henry Guthrie, whoue to do His farandfather’s ti the necessary indignities of an autopsy on a houlish and rather rude

The third case was before hiray zippered body bag, fresh from the crime scene on A-32

Weinstock took the clipboard off the hook on the side of the table, switched on the tape recorder by stepping on the treadle positioned under one corner of the table

"This exa at 1035 hours This autopsy is carried out by Saul Weinstock, MD, deputy chief coroner for Bucks County and senior staff physician for Pinelands College Teaching Hospital, and perfore Evan Doyle, justice of the peace for the Township of Pine Deep The name of the decedent is believed to be…" He consulted the clipboard, "…one Anthony Michael Macchio, age thirty-​seven, a resident of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania"

That said, he pulled down the zipper and parted the plastic folds

Saul Weinstock stood there and stared as the tape rolled on, beholding the handiwork of Tow-​Truck Eddie, the Sword of God

"Holy shit!" he said, and it forever becaot back to Shanahan’s the place was deserted There should have been fivehimself One was doith a cold, one had just not shown up that day, one, Sa a car and probably parked souy had been called in to the chief’s departate off, because there were four jobs that absolutely had to be done that day, and one was a valve job that was a real prick Sa around in Dr Crenshaw’s BMW Road test, lanced at the wall clock Half past two Shit! There was no way that he was going to get out of there any earlier than six, and maybe not that early

With the backpacks full of bloodstained cash still locked in his truck, he was uneasy He wanted to get it ho it around where it would do the Man--and hiood, but he couldn’t blow off his job because he absolutely did not want to do anything that would give hih profile His name had already been on the lips of the mayor and that jerk, Crow--all because of Mike--and he wanted to drop co, he snatched up the worksheet on the pissant little Saturn in bay two and glowered at it Brake job Well, that wasn’t too bad, ti but easy He found the keys in the office and ency brake, and hopped out The old hydraulics wheezed as they lifted the bright red car six and a half feet off the grease-​spattered floor Vic hooked a droplight on the chassis and set to ith an i kid Fucking four-​eyed little sissy piece of shit Vic hated Mike, had hated hi on Lois’s tit Scrawny little shit-​heels Vic found it nearly impossible to believe that Mike was actually the son of…well, the offspring of sorown up different if he’d knoho his dad really was, instead of growing up thinking he was the son of that jackass John Sweeney, the fucking loser Lois had married before Maybe if the kid had knoho his real father was he’d have grown up with some brick in his dick But no…the Man didn’t want the kid to know He wanted things kept quiet for reasons Vic could certainly understand, but it still rankled hiht up to respect the father Honor the father Someone like the Man deserved to be honored, especially by his own son But no, the Man just wanted the kid raised and protected--at all costs protected At least, Vic thought with grudging approval, the Man did not require a hands-​off policy for the little shit The Man couldn’t care less if Vic pounded the piss out of Mikeharht the Man worried too much about the kid The no-​balls little punk could never be a threat to the Plan Never Vic firends said Kid was only a useless piece ofabout it, about the Man, about the Return, about the kid It really torqued his ass that the kid always had his nose in a goddaht he was so smart--but he didn’t know squat Couldn’t even hold a football let alone throw one Had posters of superheroes up all over his room Vic shook his head When he’d been fourteen, Vic had had posters of Farrah Fawcett and Barbara Carrera all over his roo Cyclops Real women from the real world, not some dorky superjocks When he’d been fourteen, he’d had a stack of Penthouse h in his closet When he’d been fourteen he was buying a pack of Trojans every week or so He doubted if that puke kid even kne to put one on, let alone what to do with it afterward<ins class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true"></ins>