Killing Time by Linda Howard Read Free Book Online

knew all about that sort of bed-making, because it was how he made his own bed. In the bathroom was one toothbrush, though the holder had a space for two. One basin still showed signs of dampness, while the other was bone dry.
    All the signs said that Taylor Allen had been alone in the house. But someone had been here, probably someone he knew. He’d opened the door and let his killer in the house. Then, when he’d turned his back, the killer had . . . No, how could the killer have concealed a five-foot-long spear? Mr. Allen would have noticed. The only way a spear would have been unremarkable was if someone who collected spears had brought a fine specimen over to show Mr. Allen, who was for some reason interested.
    Right offhand, Knox couldn’t think of a single spear collector in Peke County.

4
    Knox squatted off to the side, not touching anything, while Boyd carefully worked his way inward toward the body, using a handheld vacuum to suction fibers and hairs from the carpet. Next would come the body, and what clues could be found on it. The wooden shaft could have been homemade, though it looked so smooth and uniform Knox thought it might even be a broom handle. The metal head, though, could be homemade only if their killer had a metalworking shop in his house.
    Roger Dee squatted beside him. “What’re you thinking?”
    “I’m thinking about spears,” Knox replied. “And logistics.”
    “Such as?”
    “I’m not an expert in spears, but it seems to me a spear can be used two ways: you can stab with it, or you can throw it. Either way, it would be almost impossible for the angle of entry to be straight on. So you can stab up, or stab down. The M.E. will have to say for sure, but looks to me as if the spear is angled slightly downward.”
    “Stabbed downward. We can get a rough idea of the perp’s height.”
    “Unless it was thrown. A thrown spear would have a slight arc to it, right?” Knox made an overhand throwing motion and imagined the trajectory of the spear. “A sidearm throw would arc out and then in, instead of up and then down. The spear would enter slightly right to left if the thrower was right-handed, and left to right if he was a lefty.”
    “Agreed.” Roger Dee pulled at his lip, eyeing the prone body lying in the small pool of congealed and blackened blood. “He didn’t bleed much, so he must have died almost instantly.”
    “Going by the location of the spear, I’d say it went through his heart.” Had he dropped right there, or maybe turned around and faced his attacker, then collapsed? And had the spear been stabbed into him, or thrown?
    Knox pondered the logistics of a spear, which, unlike a bullet, required a clear line of sight to be effective when thrown. Some prowess with spear-throwing was also required, either that or a lot of luck. “Logically, he was stabbed with it. Strange choice of weapon, but an ordinary method. But suppose the spear was thrown. Where would the killer have stood, so he had a clear line of sight?”
    Roger Dee pointed into the foyer beyond the wide entrance into the living room.
    “Had to be in there.”
    “Unless Mr. Allen turned, then went down, in which case the perp was standing in front of this window.” Knox pointed to the side window. “Considering the size of the room, the length of the spear, he wouldn’t have wanted to get much closer. We have two possibilities, and we need to give them equal attention.”
    “What if Mr. Allen only managed a half turn?”
    “In my opinion,” Boyd Ray said from his position beside the body, “if he’d made a half turn, he wouldn’t be so perfectly prone. He’d have been sprawled more, because the fall would have been more awkward. As it is, it looks like he pitched facedown.”
    His men didn’t work many murders, Knox thought, but there was nothing wrong with their thinking.
    They did all the usual things, such as checking the answering machine, punching
Redial
on the telephone to see the last number