Читать книгу All the Hidden Sins - Marian Lanouette - Страница 11

Chapter 7

Jake studied the Church file again. According to Detective Stack’s personnel records he was a thorough cop. The Saul Church case didn’t prove that to Jake. After his interview with Mrs. Church, he decided it was time to have it out with Stack.

He scribbled notes in the margin as he read the single-page report, then penciled a note on his calendar to speak to Stack about it. At this point he didn’t want to outright criticize any of the new detectives assigned to him until it was necessary. Missing Persons and Homicide had to work through the bumps and personalities before the two departments melded together and became a unit. It was temporary, or he hoped it was. But who knew, with Mayor Velky in charge.

The file bothered him. Instead of moving forward, he read it for a second time. Even a rookie knew how to gather more information than this. He’d find a motive for why Stack hadn’t handled it properly.

With that out of the way, he grabbed the next personnel file. Harold Walsh, a crony of the Miller brothers, now there was one who spelled trouble for him. A friend of the Millers was an enemy of his and an informant for the mayor. Why did turning in a bad cop—Captain Miller—have to play havoc with a good cop’s—Jake’s—career?

After reading about Harry’s lackluster job performance, Jake moved on to Homicide’s case load. All the files seemed in order and, if not brilliant, they did show a logical order of investigation. But there was no logic to the Church file. Was Stack burned out or crooked?

* * * *

Christ, now why did I go and make a date with him? Kyra replayed the entire interview in her head. She hated to admit she found Phil attractive, in a dangerous kind of way. What was wrong with her? Never before had she pursued the bad-boy type. And in two days, she’d accepted dates with two. Oh yes. Make no mistake. Jake Carrington was a bad boy, even if he was working on the side of good. Versus Phil, who was on the side of evil. The picture in her mind had Jake on her right shoulder, angelic. Her left shoulder showed Phil as Beelzebub. The absurd imagery sent her into a fit of laughter. She steered the car onto the shoulder of the highway to get back in control. Wrestling with right and wrong even at this age —boy, Sister Mary Catherine would be proud of her.

* * * *

Friday flew by. With one burial and one cremation, it gave her time to catch up on her paperwork. Phil called, setting the time for dinner on Saturday. He informed her the first body would arrive by the end of the day.

The undertaker along with one of Phil’s henchmen would stay with the body throughout the entire process. Phil wanted to make sure she didn’t call the police. Understanding his motive, she wasn’t insulted. Their expected arrival time was three, three thirty. Around two thirty she walked out of her office and perched herself on Dina’s desk.

“Do you have big plans for the weekend?” Kyra asked.

“Oh yes. You remember the guy with the blond hair from the party?” Dina smiled.

“There were a lot of guys with blond hair at the party. Which one?”

“The tall one.”

“They’re all tall to me.” Kyra laughed.

“Oh, right, Shorty.” Dina laughed. “Well, never mind. Ray’s six feet and built. I’m hoping to see how built tonight.” Dina wiggled her brow.

Shaking her head, Kyra kept her mouth shut.

“Tonight’s your date with Jake, right?”

“Yep.”

“We’ll have to compare notes on Monday.”

“Sounds good. Why don’t you take off for the weekend? Everything’s all set here for today.”

Not out of the ordinary for her to let Dina go early on Fridays if they weren’t busy. This gave her some quiet time to prepare for Phil’s body.

“You sure?”

“Yes, enjoy.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me twice. Thanks. Enjoy your weekend.”

Kyra watched Dina grab her purse and head out before she changed her mind. After Dina left, she walked into the back room where the cremations were performed. The room housed two chambers—ovens—but the public didn’t like that term. Inside this room there were three smaller rooms off to the right side. A processing room, because at twenty-five hundred degrees the larger parts of the bones, such as the femur and humerus, didn’t burn to ash in two and a half hours. They had to be pulverized. What the family received was the pulverized bones with minimum ash. Windows in the chamber doors allowed the attendant to view the process while the burn took place. She never looked. Ghoulish.

The outside of the building didn’t advertise that it was a crematory. The chambers were designed to do a double burn. It incinerated the body and all gases and odors as well. Outside the building, clean, white, odorless smoke filled the sky.

The other two rooms were for storage—one refrigerated, in case the cremation didn’t take place until the next day, and one for supplies. Kyra checked her watch: 2:55. Another check of the chamber area satisfied her she was ready for their arrival. She headed out front to wait.

Kyra had to give it to Phil—his people were on time. They arrived at three o’clock on the dot. The funeral director stopped in the office. She directed him to the side of the building where she’d receive the body. Meeting the funeral director made her nervous. The more people who knew what she did for Phil, the greater chance she had of getting caught. The hearse pulled into the garage area at the side of the building. She walked out to open the first bay, instructing the driver to back in. Both doors of the hearse opened. The undertaker stepped out of the driver’s side. After a few moments, the guard from Phil’s house stepped out of the front passenger side. He nodded, but didn’t say a word to her.

She pushed the church table with the hydraulic lift to the hearse and locked the wheels in place. The funeral director, along with Phil’s man, loaded the coffin onto the lift. She assumed a family had sprung for the expensive coffin and not Phil. What a waste of money. A few thousand dollars down the drain, or in this case, up in smoke. The cremation caskets were made of a heavy-duty cardboard, cost a few hundred bucks, though it might not support two bodies. Better not go there, Kyra. She unlocked the wheels and started to push the casket along the corridor to the chamber room.

“Do you have your paperwork?”

“Yes.” The funeral director looked petrified.

“Great. Are you staying through the entire process?” She looked at both for their answers.

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“Okay. There’s coffee in the little kitchen by the front door and a vending machine in the workers’ locker room if you want anything.”

“Why don’t you get yourself a cup of coffee, Tony?” The guard spoke for the first time.

The funeral director looked from one to the other, then scurried from the room.

“Kyra, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not leaving this room until the process is completed.”

“Phil explained.”

“Do you need to view the body?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not my job to verify the body or the identity of the deceased. The undertaker is responsible for the paperwork and identification. It’s the funeral director’s job not to make a mistake.”

“Convenient.”

“Yes.”

Her pat answer should she be questioned. She didn’t look in the coffins. As long as the person was dead and the undertaker had the proper paperwork she didn’t care.