Read Online Sigma Curse - 04 by Tim Stevens - Free Book Online Page B

command had been murdered.
    Twenty minutes later Teller’s iPad, which was propped in a holder on the dashboard, pinged. Teller nodded.
    “Check it out.”
    Venn picked up the tablet and saw a new email had arrived. Attached was a spreadsheet detailing the duties of the three corporals. It covered the entire week from Wednesday to Tuesday, including today and the two days after.
    Nilssen was on guard duty at the base tonight. Austin and Craddock, on the other hand, had shifts that ended at six in the evening, and were listed as off-duty afterward, until eight tomorrow morning.
    “Okay,” said Venn. “The next part might be a little tricky. Can you find out where these guys live? Are they resident at the base, or do they go home when they’re off?”
    “Shouldn’t be a problem,” said Teller, punching the office number into the phone once more.
    “Also, can you get their car registrations? Particularly Craddock and Austin.”
    “That’s an easy one.”
    Venn kept the iPad on his lap. The delay was a little longer this time, forty minutes, and the skyline of the city loomed ahead by the time the second message came through.
    Austin had an apartment in Manhattan, just as he’d said. But he was quartered at the base most of the time. Craddock, on the other hand, rented a house with a couple of other soldiers, in Fallsburg.
    “He’s the one,” said Venn. “Craddock.”
    “Going to need a lot of luck,” said Teller drily. “You’re assuming he’ll head straight home. Even if he leaves the base after his day’s over, which is another assumption.”
    “He doesn’t need to go home,” said Venn. “I just need him to get out of the base.”
    *
    T he Chevy Impala pulled through the gates at six-thirteen. Venn was starting to get seriously antsy by then, and was thinking of driving away and returning to watch the gates from a different angle. He’d just started the engine when he saw the Impala.
    Its color wasn’t distinguishable under the glare of the lights, other than that it was light. But he glimpsed the license plate, and knew it was Craddock’s.
    Two other cars followed the Impala. Venn was thankful for that. It meant he’d be less conspicuous as he eased in behind the Chevy.
    He kept the two cars between his jeep and the Impala for around a mile, until one of them turned off. The Impala was headed in the direction of Fallsburg, three miles away. Maybe Craddock was going straight home after all. Venn didn’t know if he lived alone. He hoped so.
    But he saw the Impala’s indicator signalling a left turn up ahead, and slowed. The Impala turned into a parking lot, scattered with cars and trucks. At the far side stood a low, long building with a neon sign above it: Arturo’s .
    A roadside bar.
    Venn was a little surprised. Craddock had been out drinking just two nights earlier. Venn knew from his time in the Marines that military guys, particularly those below officer rank, liked to party hard, and could hold their drink. But you also learned quickly to pace yourself, otherwise you wouldn’t last. Craddock had looked strong, fit. Not like a boozehound.
    Venn pulled into the parking lot and found a space several rows away from where the Impala had parked. He killed the engine and sat watching the rearview mirror.
    Craddock got out of the car, no longer in uniform. A moment later Austin got out of the passenger side. Venn watched them head for the bar.
    Austin, too. Well, that might make things easier. Might make them harder, though.
    Venn sat in the Jeep for ten minutes. It wouldn’t hurt to let them get a drink or two in before he made his approach. It might lower their guard further, and loosen their tongues.
    The bar was crowded, but not so jam-packed that Venn had any difficulty spotting Craddock and Austin seated at the counter along one side of its horseshoe shape. Most of the patrons looked like long-haul truck drivers or military types. A few were kids, but the majority were around thirty or