Brides Of The Impaler by Edward Lee Read Free Book Online

coffee machine than writing up DOR’s.”
    “You’re complaining like that’s a bad thing, How,” Slouch pointed out. “It means the crime rate is going down. And don’t forget, the Comm’s office transferred you here as a reward for outstanding service. Don’t complain.”
    “Jesus Christ, Slouch, there’s nothing to do . We’re tits on a bull. The Twentieth doesn’t get homicides so the boss has us double-timing on B&E’s and nobody’s even breaking and entering here.”
    Slouch stretched back with his feet up on his desk. He smiled big. “Maybe it’s your karma—it makes people peaceful. It drives the bad guys off to the Twenty-fourth.”
    Where’s Bed-Sty when you need it ?
    When Slouch’s phone rang, Vernon glared. “Why your phone and not mine?” he yelled.
    Slouch laughed. “Because you’re the head of the unit and I’m the flunky, remember? Lemme do some grunt work for ya.” When Slouch picked up the phone, he said, “Yeah? When? Okay,” and hung up.
    “What is it?” Vernon pleaded.
    “Treat yourself to a cartwheel, How. Worden’s Hardware Store got busted into last night.”
    “I’m on it,” Vernon said, jumping up.
    “Sit back down, How. Taylor did the work on it an hour ago. That wasn’t the store calling—it was Vice.”
    “What the hell’s Vice got to do with a B&E at a hardware store?”
    Slouch paused at the door, grinning. “They got a witness… A hooker .”
    “Yeah?”
    “I’m picking her up at booking and bringing her in. I hope to God she’s hot. Meanwhile, Taylor’s on the way with the lowdown.”
    Slouch loped out, leaving Vernon anxious and frowning. Now he was alone. What could be duller than a hardware store burglary ? But he supposed it was better than nothing.
    Vernon’s second in charge was Jake Taylor. Good cop. Drank too much. “But only on Sundays,” he once told Vernon. His curly brown hair and fat mustache, plus shabby tweed sports jackets made him look like a reject from the early seventies when every cop in the department was trying to look like Bruce Dern and be “hip.”
    When Taylor came in, he said, “Did you hear about the—”
    “Worden’s Hardware Store, B&E,” Vernon responded to at least sound like he was a leg up. “Let me guess. A truck-job. They cleaned the place out.”
    “Not even close.” Taylor dropped his case notes on Vernon’s desk and sat down. “Somebody ripped off four Sloyd-brand wood-carving knives. Total value of the heist? $39.80.”
    Vernon glared. “That’s the dumbest-ass thing I’ve ever heard! Nobody busts into a fuckin’ hardware store and steals four cheap knives! You steal power drills and diamond-tipped saw blades and air compressors!”
    “Right, and if you’re looking to fence knifes, you go for Gerbers and the Al Mars and the bowies, the ones that go for two bills a pop.”
    Vernon’s anger spilled over into his incredulity. “How’d they break in?”
    “Front window, bold as brass. Don’t know what time last night. They knew what they wanted, they went in, got it, and split. We got some prints but—” Taylor shrugged. “You might not wanna waste Tech Service’s time on a forty-dollar heist.”
    “Four cheap knives?” Vernon just didn’t get it. “That’s the dumbest-ass thing I ever heard,” he repeated.
    Taylor eyed him. “I know you’ve had a few more birthdays than me, How, but is any of this ringing a bell? You said the same exact thing last winter…”
    Vernon stared back at his partner. “Worden’s…Yeah. The place near Greenflea, right? Around Seventy-seventh?”
    “The cogs are turning.”
    Then the memory snapped back. “That’s right. Somebody B&E’d Worden’s last December, and stole…” Ridiculous , he recalled. “They stole a bunch of Christmas tree stands.”
    “Yep. Over a dozen of them, and that’s all they ripped off. And do you remember who did it?”
    Vernon pointed like a gun. “A bunch of homelesswomen! Yeah, now I remember. They got