Carnage by Maxime Chattam Read Free Book Online

the screen, which seemed to make Leslee uneasy.
    The door was flung open and McLogan stormed in.
    ‘What the hell’s going on here, Lieutenant? I quite clearly told you that if you needed anything at all you were to come to me!’
    Lamar took his badge from his pocket.
    ‘See this? What this means is we both have a job to do. My job is to lead my inquiry the way I see fit. And yours, sir, is to leave me the hell alone so I can concentrate on arresting those responsible for this massacre.’
    McLogan’s face flushed bright red, in stark contrast to his white hair and grey moustache.
    ‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that!’ he shouted. ‘The person responsible for this killed himself! You have no reason to be here.’
    Lamar leant towards Leslee.
    ‘I need to know what class he’s in and where I can find him right now. Plus his address, while we’re at it.’
    Leslee looked wide-eyed back at him.
    ‘But, um … I … er …’
    ‘You don’t want to be getting into trouble with the police now, do you, Leslee?’ Lamar warned sternly.
    She gulped, her eyes flicking to and fro between Lamar and a seething McLogan.
    ‘May I remind you that fourteen people are dead,’ Lamar added, sticking the knife in.
    He could see the librarian’s eyes welling up.
    Leslee clicked open a folder entitled ‘Personal details’.
    ‘Here’s his address. 122nd Street, just around the corner.’
    Lamar made a note of it and was about to point to the ‘Student grade and assessments’ tab when something stopped him.
    The details underneath the heading ‘School record’ caused a shiver to run down his spine.
    Christian DeRoy had been to five different schools over the last few years, expelled from each of them for bad behaviour.
    The first high school on the list was the scene of the Queens attack.
    ‘Scroll down a bit, would you?’ he asked.
    The next was the school by the Williamsburg Bridge.
    ‘Is something wrong, Detective?’ Quincey asked anxiously, seeing the troubled look on Lamar’s face.
    Lamar pointed at the screen.
    ‘Which class is Chris DeRoy in right now?’
    McLogan sighed loudly. ‘Your superiors are going to hear about this!’ he threatened.
    Leslee scanned through the file to find the student’sschedule. She opened her mouth to give the room number, but then froze.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Um, well, he’s not in class. We got a letter from a psychologist who’s been treating him since … since the tragedy three weeks ago,’ she read out, placing her hand against her heart. ‘Christian DeRoy is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and is still not well enough to attend classes.’
    She lifted her eyes from the screen when she heard a commotion, turning round in time to see the detective’s back as he sped out of the room.
    Lamar had broken into a sprint.

8
    The Pontiac skidded about in the snow, the back of the vehicle slewing across the road, forcing Lamar to slow right down in order to regain control of the car.
    Snowflakes continued to fall by the million.
    The roads were by now entirely fleece-lined and every building wore a white cap. Lamar called Doris back.
    ‘Doris, I need your help,’ he said, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘Meet me at 158 East 122nd Street, quick as you can. I think I’ve found our man.’
    ‘Huh? What are you saying?’
    ‘The kid who was in the closet with Russell Rod. It’s him, Doris.’
    ‘Him what? Calm down and tell me what’s going on.’
    ‘He lied. He said he saw Russell Rod come in and shoot himself just before the door swung shut. It’s not true. DeRoy is a troubled kid, he’s been to five different schoolsand been expelled from all of them. And three of those schools are where the attacks have taken place! It was him – he was the gunman every time! Russell Rod, the boy from Queens and Mike Simmons, all of them were victims, not the killers!’
    ‘What? You mean he was the one … But how?’
    ‘The hood, Doris! All three gunmen were