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Название книги: Back on Murder
Автор(ы): J Bertrand
Жанр: Детектив
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/Back-on-Murder-148589.html
© 2010
For Laurie,witty and long-suffering,a wellspring of creative inspiration***
PART 1. THE SUICIDE COP
CHAPTER 1
I’m on the way out. They can all tell, which is why the crime scene technicians hardly acknowledge my presence, and my own colleagues do a double take whenever I speak. Like they’re surprised to find me still here.But I am here, staring down into the waxy face of a man who, with a change of wardrobe, could pass for a martyred saint.It’s all in the eyes. Rolling heavenward in agony, brows arched in acute pain. A pencil mustache clinging to the vaulted upper lip, blood seeping through the cracks between the teeth. The ink on his biceps. Blessed Virgins and barb-wired hearts and a haloed man with a cleft beard.But instead of a volley of arrows or a vat of boiling oil, this one took a shotgun blast point-blank just under the rib cage, flaying his wife-beater and the chest cavity beneath. He fell backward onto the bed, arms out, bleeding out onto the dingy sheets.Lorenz stands next to me, holding the vict
Название книги: Back on Murder
Автор(ы): J Bertrand
Жанр: Детектив
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/Back-on-Murder-148589.html
© 2010
For Laurie,witty and long-suffering,a wellspring of creative inspiration***
PART 1. THE SUICIDE COP
CHAPTER 1
I’m on the way out. They can all tell, which is why the crime scene technicians hardly acknowledge my presence, and my own colleagues do a double take whenever I speak. Like they’re surprised to find me still here.But I am here, staring down into the waxy face of a man who, with a change of wardrobe, could pass for a martyred saint.It’s all in the eyes. Rolling heavenward in agony, brows arched in acute pain. A pencil mustache clinging to the vaulted upper lip, blood seeping through the cracks between the teeth. The ink on his biceps. Blessed Virgins and barb-wired hearts and a haloed man with a cleft beard.But instead of a volley of arrows or a vat of boiling oil, this one took a shotgun blast point-blank just under the rib cage, flaying his wife-beater and the chest cavity beneath. He fell backward onto the bed, arms out, bleeding out onto the dingy sheets.Lorenz stands next to me, holding the vict
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