Read Online A Darkness More Than Night by Michael Connelly - Free Book Online Page B

He raised his arms as if placing something on top of the cabinet. The chair wobbled on its uneven legs and McCaleb instinctively reached one hand to the top edge of the china cabinet to steady himself. Before he grabbed on he realized something and stopped himself. He braced his forearm across the frame of one of the cabinet’s glass doors instead.
    “Steady there, Terry.”
    He looked down. Winston was standing next to him. His phone was folded closed in her hand.
    “I am. So does she have the bird?”
    “No, she didn’t know what I was talking about.” McCaleb raised himself on his toes and looked over the top edge of the cabinet.
    “She tell you what she did take?”
    “Just some clothes and some old photos of them when they were kids. She didn’t want anything else.”
    McCaleb nodded. He was still looking up and down the top of the cabinet. There was a thick layer of dust on top.
    “You say anything about me coming down to talk to her?”
    “I forgot. I can call her back.”
    “You have a flashlight, Jaye?”
    She dug through her purse and then handed up a small penlight. McCaleb flicked it on and held it at a low angle to the top of the cabinet. The light made the surface dust more distinct and now he could clearly see an octagonal-shaped impression that had been left by something that had been put on top of the cabinet and the dust. The base of the owl.
    He next moved the light along the edges of the top board, then turned it off and got down off the chair. He handed Jaye the penlight.
    “Thanks. You might want to think about getting a print team back out here.”
    “How come? The owl’s not up there, is it?”
    McCaleb glanced at Rohrshak for a moment.
    “Nope, it’s gone. But whoever put it up there used that chair. When it wobbled they grabbed a hold.”
    He took a pen out of his pocket and reached up and tapped the front edge of the cabinet in the area where he had seen finger impressions in the dust.
    “It’s pretty dusty but there might be prints.”
    “What if it was whoever took the owl?”
    McCaleb looked pointedly at Rohrshak when he answered.
    “Same thing. There might be prints.”
    Rohrshak looked away.
    “Can I use this again?”
    Winston held up his phone.
    “Go ahead.”
    As Winston called for a print team, McCaleb dragged the chair into the middle of the living room, positioning it a few feet from the bloodstain. He then sat down on it and took in the room. In this position the owl would have looked down on the killer as well as the victim. Some instinct told McCaleb that this was the configuration the killer had wanted. He looked down at the bloodstain and imagined he was looking down at Edward Gunn struggling for his life and slowly losing the battle. The bucket, he thought. Everything fit but the bucket. The killer had set the stage but then couldn’t watch the play. He needed the bucket so that he wouldn’t see his victim’s face. It bothered McCaleb that it didn’t fit.
    Winston came over and handed him the phone.
    “There’s a crew just finishing a break-in on Kings. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
    “That’s lucky.”
    “Very. What are you doing?”
    “Just thinking. I think he sat here and watched but then couldn’t take it. He struck the victim on the head, to maybe hurry it up. Then he got the bucket and put it on so he wouldn’t have to watch.”
    Winston nodded.
    “Where’d the bucket come from? There was nothing in the —”
    “We think it came from under the sink in the kitchen. There’s a ring, a water ring on the shelf that fits the base of the bucket. It’s on a supplemental Kurt typed up. He must’ve forgotten to put it in the book.”
    McCaleb nodded and stood up.
    “You’re going to wait for the print crew, right?”
    “Yes, it shouldn’t be long.”
    “I’m going to take a walk.”
    He headed for the open door.
    “I will go with you,” Rohrshak said.
    McCaleb turned.
    “No, Mr. Rohrshak, you need to stay here with Detective