DARK CITY a gripping detective mystery by CHRISTOPHER M. COLAVITO Read Free Book Online Page A

same thing as expecting it, though they each fractured and fragmented the dim light of hope.
    “I'm not talking about rushing, I just want to know that we have a lead, any lead, to start with. I don't see one.”
    “I agree with you. We're staring at a whole lot of nothing right now.”
    “We have three suspects, all of whom I can see wanting the victim dead, but they all have air-tight alibis. No one who didn't know that house could have done it, but no one with the knowledge could have been there.”
    “You're the one who got so excited when you saw the scene. This is exactly what you wanted.”
    Detective Lane didn't need to be reminded of the grin he had worn, the Cheshire scar of a man who didn't know what abyss he was jumping into. Had he an inkling that they would have nothing to work with, his reaction would have been far less ebullient at the time. Remembering the child-like glee he felt, now that it had time to erode, it burned him from the inside out.
    “Since you know better than I do, why don't you tell me what we're going to do about this mess?”
    “First of all, we're not going to panic. You can't think when you panic, and if you can't think, you can't do your job. Secondly, we're going to talk to the coroner to see if there's anything about the body that can help us. If there is, we follow the evidence. If there isn't, we have to knock out one of the walls so we can think outside the box.”
    “I like the box. It’s cozy in here.”
    “I like it too. I'm hoping we can stay.”
     
    * * *
     
    Dr. Michael Morse was not what Detective Knox, nor anyone else, would have expected from someone who spent his life surrounded by the dead. He was a soft-spoken, good-natured man, who would have flourished in the job of mall Santa, if he were older and morbidly obese. The juxtaposition of him and the flayed bodies piled on his operating tables was a sight that made little sense, no matter how many times Knox ventured into the catacombs for information.
    Detective Knox's first sight, as he opened the door, was an image he thought could only exist in the blackest of comedies. Dr. Morse knelt atop the table, over the body, his entire head stuck inside the hollowed cavity that was once its chest. A circle of yellow danced on the stretched skin, a flashlight searching out some hidden ore.
    Knox stood rooted to the spot, watching the proceedings with bewilderment. It would be funny, he thought, if Dr. Morse had any idea how ridiculous he looked. The least Knox figured he could do was lock the door when engaging in such unseemly behavior. If people knew what was really happening down below, Dr. Morse's reputation would not be so sterling.
    Seconds passed, nearly a minute, and Detective Knox grew tired of the waiting game. Dr. Morse was engrossed in his study, unaware of his visitor watching from the doorway. Knox hated to pry him away from his work, but watching was beginning to make Knox feel uneasy. At last Knox spoke.
    “Doc, do you have any results on the Hobbes murder?”
    Dr. Morse pulled his head from its hiding place, with a look on his face of mingled surprise and aggravation. Knox couldn't read which was the dominant reaction, as before his synapses could begin to fire, his friend had wiped away any trace, his face reverting to its usual jovial expression.
    “Detective, do come in, you absolutely must see what I've found in here.”
    “Thanks, but I think I'll take your word for it. I don't want to spoil the surprise for the detectives working that case.”
    “Ah, a fine idea. They will enjoy this a lot.”
    Dr. Morse hopped from his perch, his shoes landing silently on the cold, tiled floor. The thought had crossed Knox's mind before that he may indeed be Death himself, and the constant flow of bodies was the reason for his contentment.
    “About the Hobbes case . . .”
    “Right. I had a preliminary look at the body, and the results are quite fascinating. Quite a good murder, I must say.”
    Knox knew