At Sword's Point by Katherine Kurtz, Scott MacMillan Read Free Book Online

he had his head chopped off." Steinmazel inclined his head toward the torso. The bottoms of the dead man's socks were caked in mud.
    "So, Bubi, how do you read it?" Eberle asked.
    Steinmazel cast a calculating look toward the body and the tent, then back at Eberle.
    "I figure he was standing here, facing the direction he fell," he said, "when someone came up from behind and cut his head off." He crouched back down and carefully lifted the plaster cast clear of the mud. Turning it over, he gave a grunt of satisfaction and held it up for Eberle's inspection.
    "Just as I thought. See how the impression is deeper along the outside edge of the foot?" Eberle nodded. "That's because the assailant's weight shifted in that direction as he swung the weapon that took off the kid's head." Steinmazel stood up and handed Eberle the plaster cast.
    "Find a barefoot man with a two-handed sword, and you've got your killer," he said.
    "Thanks, Bubi—I think." Eberle stared at the plaster impression of a man's foot for several seconds.
    "Bubi, look for more footprints around here. I've got a hunch our killer wasn't alone."

Chapter 4
    Drummond's secretary had very kindly arranged the manila file folders on his desk into three neat piles: pending, ongoing, and closed. The prospect of going through them all was daunting, but it was better than thinking too hard about what had happened where he was during the two weeks he had been away. To ease back into the routine, he decided to start the day with the pile marked "closed." He picked up the topmost folder, opened it, and read through the arresting officer's report while he had a cup of coffee.
    The suspect was a black female, age 62. The victim, described in the report as her boyfriend, was a black male, age 68. According to eye-witnesses, the woman, Ola Mae Harrell, had had an argument with Eugene Tubbs, the victim, shortly before he was killed. Following a heated exchange of words, Tubbs had left the second-floor apartment of the motel, gone downstairs, and was walking past the balcony when Ola Mae dropped a large watermelon on his head, killing him instantly.
    Drummond chuckled drily to himself, initialed the report, and dropped it in the "out" tray on his desk, ready to send on to the DAs office for action. He had just picked up the next file when Sandy Morwood stuck his head around the door and tapped on the glass, grinning.
    "Hey, John. Good to have you back. Mind if I come in and visit?"
    "Sure, Sandy, pull up a seat. How are things on FLASH?"
    Morwood flopped into a chair opposite Drummond, nearly spilling his coffee. He was the federal liaison agent for FLASH—Federal Legal Assistance in Solving Homicides—and drew his salary from the Department of Justice.
    "Oh, just the usual nonsense. We brought a new computer on-line, it ought to make things run even better. Nothing very interesting while you were gone, though." Morwood sipped his coffee. "Anything interesting on your desk?"
    Careful to keep a straight face, Drummond retrieved the watermelon murder file and slid it over to the federal agent.
    "Just this. Hope it isn't a copy-cat killing."
    Drummond opened the next folder in the "closed" pile and pretended to start skimming it, waiting for the explosion. Morwood nearly choked on his coffee when he got to the part of the report that described the late "Mr. Tubbs" as having been driven into the ground like a tent peg by the force of the falling watermelon.
    "God, John," Morwood said between hoots of laughter, "this is funny. Do you mind if I send it out over FLASH?"
    Drummond's answer was interrupted by the soft buzzing of his intercom.
    "Yes, Alicia. What is it?" Drummond lifted his finger from the red bar on the squawk box.
    "There are two men here to see you from the Israeli Consulate, Capitan ." Alicia only used Drummond's rank to impress visitors. "Can you see them now?"
    "Sure. Send them in." Drummond gave Morwood an apologetic shrug as the agent stood up to leave. Morwood nodded