Читать книгу Peter Decker 3-Book Thriller Collection - Faye Kellerman, Faye Kellerman - Страница 13

The detective squad room of the Foothill Division was undersized and overcrowded. The furniture could have come from a garage sale, and that made the people in the neighborhood feel right at home. The detectives rarely complained about the outdated equipment or the makeshift desks and chairs, but the lack of elbow room got to everybody, especially when the weather was hot.

Decker was on the phone, explaining to a local dentist why a girl’s X rays were needed, when his second line rang. He put the dentist on hold.

“Decker,” he said.

“Hi—”

“Rina, I’m on another call. Can you wait a minute?”

“It’s nothing important—”

“Honey, I’ll be off in a second.”

“Go ahead, sweetie. I’ll wait.”

Back to Dr. Pain. Spelled P-a-y-n-e.

“So if you could just sent the X rays you do have of Kristy Walkins to Dr. Anne Hennon—”

“Detective, I’m really rather choosy about to whom I send my records; they aren’t junk mail to be tossed around randomly. And with the recent proliferation of lawsuits …”

“I realize that, Doctor, but we’re talking about a homicide investigation.”

“If I knew for certain that the victim found was indeed Miss Walkins and the X rays would serve as absolute proof of identification, I’d feel much better about sending them to you.”

If we knew that, we wouldn’t need X rays, schmuck!

“Dr. Payne, I could get a subpoena and then we wouldn’t have to bother with this polite conversation. Now, I’m asking you to send the X rays on your terms. If you keep giving me a hard time, I’m going to take them on my terms. The choice is yours.”

There was a long pause full of heavy breathing.

“I could round up some duplicates,” Payne said, “but I guarantee you the clarity of the radiographs will leave much to be desired.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, Doctor. Thank you.”

Decker gave him Hennon’s address, thanked him again, gave the phone the finger, and pressed Rina’s line.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Nothing really. Just called to say hi.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you did.”

“I … I guess you’re busy, huh?”

“Not too busy for you.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

There was a long awkward pause. This is leading somewhere, he thought.

“What’s on your mind, Rina?”

“Why do you think something’s on my mind?”

“I’m just asking.”

She coughed over the phone, then cleared her throat. “I bought a gun, Peter.”

Shit!

“You what?” he said softly.

“I bought a gun. A .38 caliber Colt six-shot Detective Special. Same one you use off duty. It’s being registered now. Can you get me a conceal permit?”

“No. And you shouldn’t be fooling around with a gun unless you know how to use one.”

“I agree. That’s why I’ve signed up for private lessons. At Berry’s Guns and Ammo. The teacher’s name is Tom Railsback. He said he knows you.”

“I know Tom,” said Decker quietly. “He’s a good guy. Rina, why the hell are you doing this?”

“Because I’m a nervous wreck. Because I constantly hear noises at night. Because I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in the six months since the violence here, and I don’t want to be addicted to Valium.”

“Honey, these things take time to get over. He can’t hurt you now. He’s locked up.”

“Intellectually, I know you’re right. But I can’t help myself. I need something more. I need to know I can take care of myself.”

“And you think a gun will take care of you?”

“Are you being sarcastic?” she asked innocently.

Decker paused, then said, “Sort of.”

“Please don’t be. I’m not careless, Peter. I’m not impulsive. I’ve thought about it a long time. I really think it’s what I need.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“Peter, I broached the subject with you a dozen times and you kept putting me off.”

Decker pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply. He had put her off. He was worried about her keeping firearms with small children around the house. He was worried it would misfire and she’d get hurt. Or maybe it was just a macho thing, feeling she should have trusted him to take care of her. Jan had never wanted a gun: she’d hated guns. But Jan had grown up in the sixties; Rina was from a different generation. Peace, love, and Woodstock had been replaced by terrorism and Rambo.

“If you’re serious and you learn how to shoot properly, I’ll see what I can do about getting you a permit.”

“Thanks.”

“But that’s going to take months, Rina.”

“That’s okay.”

“That means you can’t hide the gun in your purse in the meantime.”

“I won’t.”

“Or under a car seat—”

“The gun will be kept at home. Relax, sweetie. You sound wired.”

He was wired.

“The other line is ringing,” he said. “Hold on a moment.”

He punched down the flashing white phone light.

“Decker,” he yelled.

“Take it easy, Pete. It’s only eleven o’clock in the morning.”

Decker recognized the voice.

“H’lo, Annie.”

“We got lucky, Sergeant. Can you make it down here by noon?”

“I’ll be there. I’ll even bring my own lunch.”

“What a guy!” She hung up.

He connected back to Rina’s line.

“Look, I’ve got to head on out to Beverly Hills. I’ll drop by tonight. We can discuss this further then.”

“I should be done with the mikvah around ten.”

“Ten it is.”

“What’s in Beverly Hills, Peter?”

“A dentist who may have identified the bones we found.”

“What’s his name? I can use a good dentist. My old one retired and I don’t like the guy who took over his practice.”

“He’s a she. Her name is Annie.”

“Does Annie have a last name?”

Decker smiled.

“Hennon,” he said.

“Does Annie also have a red afro and a dog named Sandy?”

“Not quite. She’s actually pretty. Not in your category, Rina, but her face wouldn’t cause your mouth to pucker. She has nice eyes.”

“Really now.”

“Yes. They’re green.”

“Noticed the color, did you?”

“I’m a cop, Rina. I pride myself on a keen eye for detail.”

“That’s just fine so long as you keep your keen eye above Annie’s neck.”

Decker arrived a few minutes early and was escorted into Hennon’s office by the office girl, dressed in a white uniform that barely covered her ass. Chewing on bubble gum, she cracked it in her mouth, then offered Decker a stick, which he politely refused. A second later he heard Hennon yell for the girl’s assistance.

The girl rolled her eyes backward. “That woman is a terror,” she said. Her lower lip was in a sultry pout. “Dr. MacGrady is so much nicer.”

I’ll bet he is, thought Decker.

“You’d better go see what she wants,” he said.

She left him alone with his baloney sandwich, carrot sticks, potato chips, and chocolate cupcake. He’d been over at Rina’s house last night while she was making lunches for the boys and she’d offered to pack him something. He had agreed under the condition that she’d go to no extra bother—give him exactly what she was making for the boys.

Are you sure, Peter?

Positive.

Hence, the kiddie lunch.

He unwrapped the sandwich. At least, it was on rye. He took a bite and in walked Hennon.

“Don’t bother to get up,” she said motioning him back down. “Finish swallowing.”

He did and put down the sandwich.

“Want some coffee?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Kelly,” she called out. “Two black coffees, one with sugar.”

The receptionist ambled into the office, sulking. “It’s my lunch hour, Dr. Hennon.”

Hennon stared her down and a moment later Kelly brought in two styrofoam cups.

“Have a good lunch,” said Hennon.

The girl mumbled and slammed the door as she left.

“I would have fired her a long time ago, but my partner has a soft spot in his heart and a hard spot somewhere else for her. Speaking of true love, how’s your ‘sort of’ girlfriend, Pete?”

“She’s fine. She just bought a gun. You own a gun, Annie?”

“No. I’d probably maim myself. Why’d she buy one? Just feeling vulnerable?”

“About six months ago, a psycho almost raped her. She’s still nervous about it. Claims she hears noises outside.”

She whistled. “If I were her, I’d buy a gun, also.”

“I thought you’d say that.”

“You carry a picture of her?”

“Who? Rina?”

“If that’s her name.”

Decker dug out his wallet and showed the dentist a snapshot. Hennon frowned.

“Is this an exceptionally good photo of her?”

“Neither exceptionally good nor bad. It’s what she looks like.”

The dentist handed him back his wallet.

“Shall we get down to business?” she asked.

Decker said, “What do you have?”

She flipped on the viewing monitor.

“I went down to the morgue this weekend. Dr. Marvin Rothstein sent me a set of X rays that looked promising as one of our Jane Does. This is the original full mouth set I took on Jean—twenty shots. Compare these to Dr. Rothstein’s set.”

She let Decker look for a minute.

“There are similarities,” she said, “Same number of teeth, same teeth in the mouth have been restored, same interdental spacing, except that everything looks a little off kilter—like looking in a mirror at a funhouse. For instance, this right bitewing molar shot that I took on Jean shows the amalgam—the silver filling—covering the top of the upper molar and two sides: a typical filling for this tooth called an MOD. The angle I took it from shows a little tiny sliver of filling extending past the preparation line. It’s called an overhang and it’s a teeny one. Rothstein’s X rays don’t show it all.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m coming to that. Take a look at this, Pete. This one is the full mouth set of Jean that I shot over the weekend,” she said mounting another set of X rays on the viewer. “Now compare this set to Dr. Rothstein’s.”

Decker studied the films.

“It doesn’t show the sliver of filling, either.”

“Exactly. And look how much more similar the two sets are. Know what I did? I angled the X ray tube a little bit forward. Foreshortened the beam. When one compares radiographs for something as important as identification of a murder victim, one better make damn sure that the two sets of X rays are shot from the same angle. Otherwise, one may miss an obvious match and feel stupid.”

She breathed on her fingernails and rubbed them on her white coat.

“But the clincher is this. I called up Dr. Rothstein and asked for the patient’s orthodontist. His name is Dr. Neiman and he sent me her casts. You want to compare the two?”

She showed them to Decker.

“To me, they look identical.”

“Not quite. Remember I told you that the girl wasn’t wearing her retainer as much as she should have. The skeleton’s teeth weren’t quite as aligned. But even so, I superimposed a bite plate of Jean’s teeth and matched it to his patient’s casts, and then I reversed the procedure and superimposed the patient’s bite plate over Jean’s teeth. It’s the same person.

“Pete,” she said, pointing to the plaster casts. “Say hello to Lindsey Bates.”