The Society by Michael Palmer Read Free Book Online

eyes, and Patty wondered what life would have been like had someone like him been assigned to her case. “You’d best stick pretty close to her, Wayne. She’ll make you look smart.”
    Brasco merely shrugged. His eyes were flint. Even in the dim light Patty could see him flush. She felt like a guerrilla, making quick, annoying strikes at the enemy.
Next time maybe you’ll call me.
    “There’s more evidence this guy was a pro,” Brown added. “I interviewed Davenport’s wife. She didn’t see or hear anything before the explosion, but she also admits to having had a good deal to drink last night—and from the looks of her, I would bet most nights before that. However, she insists that her husband’s Cadillac was in the garage and the electronic door was closed. That means someone had to get the door open without disturbing anyone, then get through the security system of the car and get it out onto the driveway, then set the explosive.”
    “So maybe whoever wanted revenge hired a pro,” Dawes ventured, excited to be one of the gang of detectives.
    “Or maybe he was a pro to begin with,” Patty tried, testing the notion out on herself as much as the others. “You know, some HMO doctor or managed-care company just happened to do something to upset the wrong person—a professional killer.” She surveyed the scene again, then thanked Dawes and turned to the Norfolk men, pointedly ignoring Brasco, who looked something like the loser in a round of musical chairs. “Lieutenant Corbin,” she said, “we need to get inside the garage.”
    “The three of us were already there briefly before you arrived. As soon as the crime-scene people are done, we’ll be opening the door.”
    “We can wait if you insist, but I’d rather not. Lieutenant, as you know, this is the third death in what is almost certainly the work of a serial killer.”
    “Yes, I’m well aware of that.”
    “Well, did Wayne tell you about the letters?”
    “The what?”
    One glance at Brasco told Patty she had struck another nerve. If the killer had once again left alphabet letters about, as he had in the first two cases, Brasco clearly wanted to be the one to discover them. Immediately, he inserted himself between her and the Norfolk detectives.
    “Yes, Patty, thanks for bringing it up,” he said confidently, clearing the insincerity from his throat. “I was waiting to get clearance from Lieutenant Court to tell you two about the letters when Patty arrived. He hasn’t called back yet, but I assume Jack won’t have any problem with sharing the information with you.”
    “That’d be nice of him,” Corbin said, with thinly disguised sarcasm.
    “We’ve kept this information internal in case we needed it,” Brasco went on.
    “We understand.”
    “Well, in each of the other cases, the killer has left a calling card—two, in fact. Each of the first two victims had an envelope alongside them. The first one contained the letters
E
and
R
, and the second one the letters
R
and
T
. Both envelopes and all the letters were clean. Obviously, the killer couldn’t put an envelope in the car he was about to blow up, so I strongly suspect something is in the garage.”
    You wouldn’t suspect your knees were bare if you had forgotten your pants
, Patty thought savagely.
    “What about the garage?”
    The man behind the query, tall and straight, looking as distinguished as any diplomat, wore the full uniform of a lieutenant colonel, complete with a multitiered rainbow of decorations above his left breast. At the sight of him, Brasco stiffened. Corbin extended his hand.
    “Colonel,” he said.
    “Roosevelt,” Tommy Moriarity replied. “Good to see you again. It’s been a while since that forensics conference in Boston.”
    Corbin introduced Brown to the second in command of the state police force.
    Patty hesitated, gauging the situation to determine the greeting the man would like from her. Finally, she reached out and took his hand in both of