Lilith: a novel Read Free Page A

of Criminal Investigation. In the movies, gangsters are always killing each other with shotguns and machine guns. In reality, Alan knew, most gangland executions are done with small caliber slugs like the .22. The .22 avoids the mess of an exit wound. And it is effective enough when fired into the top or rear of someone’s head at close range. A .22 slug with a hollow point easily penetrates the skull and then wreaks havoc inside the brain, practically guaranteeing death.
    “It looks like at twenty-two,” Koenig said as he finally pulled the blood-and tissue-covered slug free with a pair of forceps. Using a sponge, Koenig wiped the slug clean with his free hand and placed it inside a clear plastic evidence bag.
    In addition to Koenig and Grooms, Maribel Flynn and Dave Hennessy were also in attendance. Alan had expected that Sergeant Rayburn would be here, too; but the sergeant was apparently still busy with the double homicide that had taken place in Over-the-Rhine. Named in the nineteenth century to honor the homeland of the city’s many German immigrants, Over-the-Rhine was now a drug-infested zone that the city’s business and government leaders had been trying to rehabilitate for years, with inconsistent and varying results.
    Maribel and Dave had thus far observed the autopsy in silence. Their mouths were covered with surgical masks, but their eyes revealed their barely contained revulsion at the proceedings. As law enforcement work went, homicide was near the top of the pecking order in terms of prestige; but one big downside of homicide work was the required attendance at homicides.
    Most cops—even the tough ones—dreaded this part of the process. Truth be told, Alan hated it, too. Although he had technically been to war, his time in the Gulf during the 1990-1 conflict had been as bloodless as war could get. Alan had been assigned to a rear area, where he was responsible for administering Iraqi POWs, mostly scared teenagers and old men who had been recently conscripted. Few of the Iraqi prisoners had seemed interested in putting up a fight. The majority of them were more interested in angling for political asylum.
    Alan had seen far more bloodshed in homicide than he had ever witnessed while in the army. And Dave and Maribel were even less prepared for it. Both of Alan’s partners were a decade his junior, more or less. Dave, a sandy-haired, slightly overweight computer nerd, hated the sight of blood—let alone a homicide corpse. Maribel was a little less squeamish, but not by much.
    “Based on the angle of the shot and the degree of distortion of the bullet’s path once inside the skull,” Dr. Koenig went on, “I think we can safely conclude that Robert Billings had no idea he was going to die—at least not until the very last second.”
    “But he knew something at the last second?” Maribel asked from beneath her blue surgical mask. Her dark brown eyes were glossy, possibly a reaction to the numerous noxious odors and fumes in this room. Maribel’s long black hair, normally worn shoulder-length, was pulled back into a bun.  
    “He might have been aware the second before the shot was fired,” Koenig said. “The fragmentation of the entry wound, and the distortion of the bullet’s path inside the braincase, do suggest that. But by then it would have been too late. He might have flinched. But that would have been it.”
    Maribel nodded. “I see.”
    It was good to get the confirmation, but this was the exact same pattern as the previous two killings.
    An image began to form in Alan’s mind: Robert Billings seated on the couch, perhaps talking to someone, or otherwise distracted by that person.
    Then a second person coming up from behind and shooting him in the back of the head.
    That would imply more than one killer.
    But how would that work with the apparent methodology of using the online dating sites? Maybe the killers were two women.
    That was a scenario that might work, though there were