Читать книгу When One Man Dies - Dave White - Страница 16

Chapter 8

Bill Martin expected Gerry Figuroa’s house to smell worse than Donne’s office. Old men who lived on their own were rarely clean, and, he suspected, their ability to smell probably went even before hearing did.

Climbing the stairs to the top floor of the two-family, he was surprised. The fresh scent of lemon wafted in the air, and everything was pretty much in place. As if Figuroa was rarely even here. He’d shown the landlord his badge to get in. Now, he could hear the landlord’s TV playing an old episode of Sanford and Son. Three-thirty in the morning and he was watching reruns. Go to bed, Martin thought. Get a real job.

It wasn’t necessary to make the old man’s floor a crime scene. It was a hit-and-run, but Martin liked the idea of coming up here and getting a feel for the victim. To see how he lived. He liked knowing who he was investigating.

And making it a crime scene would keep Donne from getting up here. And the idea of that little pissant being completely frustrated at the front door made Martin chuckle a bit to himself.

He checked the kitchen first, wanting to know what the man ate, if anything. The fridge was bare; only a bottle of milk, some eggs, and a half-eaten leftover sandwich. He looked at the oven. It was spotless and looked like it had just been delivered from Fortunoff. He went through the drawers one by one: plates, glasses, paper towels, silverware, trays. Underneath the kitchen sink he saw a ton of coffee filters and even more boxes of matches.

At that moment, the feeling from the old days returned. He knew what he’d find elsewhere in the house.

He did a quick sweep, looking for specific items. They wouldn’t be hidden. Unless you had a trained eye, they wouldn’t strike you as odd. Good thing Martin had a trained eye.

In the closet near the bathroom, he found twenty bottles of Sudafed. Above that, tons of batteries. There was more to Gerry Figuroa than met the eye.

He called the station and told them to send some crime-scene guys down here. They’d have to tape it off, collect evidence, and take fingerprints. He hated to wake the crime scene guys up in the middle of the night, but hell, this was important. When he hung up the phone, he allowed himself another chuckle.

This case was going to put him back on the map.