Big Sick Heart: A Detectives Seagate and Miner Mystery by Mike Markel Read Free Book Online

him in.”
    “Have we ruled out the killer was already in the
room when Hagerty came in?” Ryan said.
    “We can’t rule that out,” Robin said. “With that
carpet not showing any footprints, plus it’s a hotel and it’s got all kinds of
shit in it anyway, we can’t be sure the killer wasn’t already there. But
there’s no evidence in the bathroom or the closet, which are the only two
places he could hide so Hagerty would get inside the room without seeing him,
that there was anyone inside.”
    “All right, Robin,” I said. “You got anything else
for us?”
    “Not at the moment. I’ll keep looking to see if I
can pull anything else off the towels or the sheets to help us identify whoever
he was banging. Not sure the drain’s gonna do us any good, since the
biologicals in there could be from days ago. I already did a quick check of the
vacuum cleaner bag; nothing fun like an earring or anything like that. But I’ll
keep going and let you know later today.”
    “Okay, thanks a lot, Robin.”
    “See ya,” Robin said, clicking her mouse to turn
the volume back up on her awful music.
    Ryan and I left the evidence lab and walked back
up the stairs. I said, “Let’s run this by the chief.” Ryan nodded. We headed
down the hall to the private offices. All the way at the end we came to the
chief’s. It was the only office with a big glass panel on the door with his
name written on it.
    Helen Glenning looked up from her screen and said,
“Can I help you, Detectives?” I wasn’t expecting the question. With the former
receptionist, Kari, you could just walk right in. This one was maybe fifty,
hair mostly grey, tight curls. A plain cranberry sweater, single strand of good
quality imitation pearls, a pin of a cat. Framed photos of kittens on the
walls.
    “Can we see the chief?” I said.
    “Did you have an appointment?” she said. The
receptionist’s desk had been moved to block a straight path to the chief’s
inner office. Probably his idea.
    “No, no appointment. We wanted to bring him up to
date on the Hagerty murder,” I said. “No time to make an appointment. He just
got killed around midnight.”
    Helen paused, raising an eyebrow to signal she
caught the implication of that last sentence. The gesture said, Don’t go
smartass on me if you want to see the chief. She hit the intercom button.
“Detectives Seagate and Miner, on the Hagerty homicide.”
    “Okay,” the chief’s voice said on the intercom,
equal parts bored and annoyed.
    Ryan said to her, “Thanks very much, Helen.” She
gave him an official smile and turned back to her screen. No smile for me.
    For a municipal office, the chief’s was nice:
paneled walls, real wood furniture, a couch off to the side, upholstered arm
chairs in front of his desk. The chief didn’t acknowledge our entrance. He kept
looking at the screen, which obviously was more important than his detectives
reporting to him on a murder that had already made the national news.
    I stood there, hands clasped before me. Looking
down at my feet, I studied the wine-colored carpet. I poked Ryan and pointed to
the carpet. “Nice nap,” I whispered. He nodded. If I was to hole up in this
office, then kill the chief, I’d have to remember to remove my footprints—or wear
clown shoes.
    After ten seconds or so, the chief looked up from
his screen and nodded at us. “Yeah?” he said.
    I was silent. Ryan looked at me, but I just stood
there. He spoke. “We wanted to bring you up to date on the Arlen Hagerty
murder.”
    The chief nodded, the signal for Ryan to speak.
“He was killed around midnight, multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen,
probably not from a knife but something more like a screwdriver. We haven’t
recovered a weapon. He probably had sex with someone in the room. We think he
was watching TV, then got up and let the murderer in, or the murderer was the
person he had sex with. That’s all we’ve got so far.”
    “All right,” the chief said,