The Killing Game by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online Page B

how they—shit!”
    Joe pushed him aside and looked down into the drawer.
             
    EVE ANSWERED THE phone on the first ring.
    “It's gone,” Joe said harshly.
    “What?”
    “The skeleton's gone.”
    She went rigid with shock. “How could that be?”
    “How the hell do I know? Dr. Comden says the skeleton was in the drawer last night when he left the lab. It wasn't there at noon today.”
    She tried to think. “Could the Pathology Department have picked it up?”
    “Dr. Comden would have had to sign the release.”
    “Maybe there was some foul-up and they picked it up without getting—”
    “I called Basil. No one was authorized to pick up the skeleton.”
    She was dazed. “Someone has to—”
    “I'm trying to find out where the snafu is. I just didn't want you to wait around for me to bring it to you. I'll call you when I know something.”
    “She's . . . lost again?”
    “I'll find her.” He paused. “It could be a macabre joke. You know how college kids can be.”
    “You think one of the students stole the skeleton?”
    “That's what Dr. Comden's guessing.”
    She closed her eyes. “Oh, my God.”
    “We'll get it back, Eve. I'm questioning everyone who was near the lab last night and today.”
    “Okay,” she said numbly.
    “I'll call you when I know something,” he repeated, then hung up.
    Eve put down the receiver. She mustn't get upset. Joe would find the skeleton. Dr. Comden was probably right. It must be some kid who thought it hilarious to pull such a prank and—
    The phone rang. Joe again?
    “Hello.”
    “She was a pretty little girl, wasn't she?”
    “What?”
    “You must have been very proud of your Bonnie.”
    She froze. “Who is this?”
    “I had trouble remembering her. There have been so many. But I should have remembered her. She was special. She fought for her life. Do you know that children very seldom struggle? They just accept. That's why I seldom choose them anymore. It's like killing a bird.”
    “Who is this?”
    “They flutter and then go quiet. Bonnie wasn't like that.”
    “You lying son of a bitch,” she said hoarsely. “What kind of sicko are you?”
    “Not the usual kind, I assure you. Not like Fraser. Though I do have an ego, I never take credit for someone else's kills.”
    She felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. “Fraser did kill my daughter.”
    “Did he? Then why didn't he tell you where her body was? Where all the bodies were?”
    “Because he was cruel.”
    “Because he didn't know.”
    “He knew. He just wanted to make us suffer.”
    “That's true. But he also wanted to increase his notoriety by confessing to kills he had no business claiming. At first I was irritated, and then amused. I even spoke to him in jail. I'd left a message saying I was a newspaper reporter and he wasn't going to let that chance go by. When he called me back, I gave him a few more details to feed the police.”
    “He was caught in the act of killing Teddy Simes.”
    “I didn't say he was totally blameless. Actually, he had legitimate claim to the Simes boy and four others. But the rest were mine.” He paused. “Including little Bonnie Duncan.”
    Eve was shaking so badly, she could scarcely hold the receiver. She had to control herself. It was a crank call. Some pervert who wanted to hurt her. She'd gotten a few similar calls during Fraser's trial. But this man sounded so calm, so sure, almost indifferent. Make him talk. Make him prove he was lying. “You said you don't like to kill children.”
    “I was experimenting at that point. I was trying to see if they were worthwhile pursuing on a regular basis. Bonnie almost convinced me of it, but the next two were a terrible disappointment.”
    “Why—are you—calling me?”
    “Because we have a bond, don't we? We have Bonnie.”
    “You lying bastard.”
    “Or, rather, I have Bonnie. I'm looking at her right now. She was much prettier when I put her in the ground. It's sad that we all end up