Read Online Coven by David Barnett - Free Book Online

floor, Peerce.”
    “ What blood? I don’t see no
blood.”
    “ Bend over and look down,
Sherlock.” She pointed to the darkened streaks along the run. “What
do you call that? Cherry smash?”
    Peerce lost his southern snideness. “Thought
it was horsepiss.”
    “ Yeah, horsepiss. Look out,
and watch where you walk!” She followed the blood line with her SL
beam. It ended at some larger splashes by a utility stall. A
spatter of “fall” dotted the wall in an arch; what she knew about
bloodfall trajectory told her the victim must’ve been moving away , not forward.
Drop-configuration like this was rare. The large bleed at her feet
bothered her most of all. A bleed this big in conjunction with this
fall pattern indicated an excruciating wound. At D.C. they’d once
walked into a basement where two crack taxis had been murdered.
They’d found the men in a pile of neatly stacked pieces. Axes had
been used.
    Her eyes followed another
line up. The halfboard on the stall had a gouge in it, what a tech
would call strike impactation. More blood stained the gouge. Shit, she thought. Had
the victim been reaching for the pitchforks in the stall? Yes. It’s too perfect. She peered over and looked down. More blood.
    The impactation looked good, a good strike.
She’d need no toolmarks workup to tell her this was an ax, and a
big one. A big blade with an unusually flat cutting edge. But there
had to be more.
    Follow back, she thought. “Look at the fall.”
    “ Huh?”
    “ The bloodfall. The drop
points change direction here, a 180 degree shift. They don’t
lead forward, they lead back.”
    Peerce didn’t know what she was talking
about. Lydia followed the line. “Jesus,” Peerce observed. “Fucker
lost a lot of blood.”
    “ Don’t walk in it!” Lydia
yelled. “Look, Peerce, this place is too small for both of us. Do
me a favor and—”
    Peerce didn’t need to be told. He sputtered
and went back to the office, bitterly chewing a wad of tobacco.
    Now we’re in
business. She aimed the SL back on the
blood. It went about fifteen feet to the stable charge’s office.
The phone hung off the hook. A larger splash had coagulated on the
floor. Lydia crouched down, thinking. She closed her eyes and tried
to see the victim. Despite the wound, he’d made it back
here.
    Why? To use the phone.
    What then? He hadn’t died here. Not enough
blood.
    So he left. He’d dressed his wound and he’d left.
    Now where? Where would I go if I’d just been severely cut by
an ax wielding maniac near the stable entrance?
    The stable exit, dumb ass.
    But what about the
attacker, the axman? He’d still be in the aisle. Cut this bad, did the victim actually have the
balls to go back out and fight?
    Weapons.
    Maybe he was
strapped. If the victim was Sladder, maybe
he had a gun. Some guards carried them, some didn’t. The security
office would know; they had sign out sheets. The suspicion
needled her.
    She went back out,
imagining herself in great pain. She fixed her SL beam, and there
they were, like gold ingots at the baseboard. Bingo! she thought. There were six of
them. .25s, maybe .32s. He popped six caps at the axman. Okay, okay. What
then?
    Escape.
    She followed away from the
empty cartridges. Where did he go now? She pictured a frantic,
bleeding man stumbling along. Come on,
come on. Show me.
    The last swing door before
the exit. Bingo! she thought again, but it was a pale thought. She’d been
rooting for the bleeding man, for nothing. This was as far as he’d
gotten.
    Her SL beam frozen down,
Lydia stared quietly. Jesus. The bloodstain lay wall to wall.
Footprints led out of it like stick on dance steps. It was
obvious. The victim had been butchered.
    The blood was here, all over the place. So
where was the body?

    ««—»»

    “ How could you miss
bloodstains on the fucking floor?” White was bellowing at Peerce
when Lydia came back in.
    “ It’s dark in there, Chief.
Without no lights, it’s hard to—”
    “