The Butcher of Whitechapel
Page 17
Dehan, now dressed in jeans and a demure blouse, was bobbing her olive up and down in her drink, looking pensive.
“It’s hard to believe,” she said at last, “that something like that could happen in a country like Britain today.”
I nodded and ate my olive instead of bobbing it. “The world is changing. I don’t know if there ever were certainties. I guess after World War II, everybody thought there were certainties, until Kennedy and Vietnam, and Watergate… It was only a very short time when we felt more or less sure about who we were, in the West, and what we were about.”
She gave a short laugh that was more like a snort. “I read once that every new century actually starts one or two decades in. You know, the twentieth started in 1916, the eighteenth in 1812. I wonder if we are getting a first taste of what the new century is bringing us.”
“That’s a kind of scary thought.”
She nodded. “On a happier note, Stone, I have decided that in this new and uncertain world, I have acquired a taste for the good life. So we are going to become international consulting detectives to the Crowned Heads of Europe and world governments, uncovering coups and conspiracies and charging exorbitant fees for it.”
I frowned at my glass and signaled the barman to refill it. “Stone & Stone, Consulting Detectives, no fee too great, most jobs too small. I like it. However, Dehan, I insist that in all of our investigations, you wear a minute black dress and carry an AK-47.”
She shrugged. “I can do that.”
We were quiet for a while as the clock hands moved on toward departure time. After a bit, Dehan voiced my own thoughts. “I wonder what’s next in the box?”
The box was our collection of cold cases back at the 43rd Precinct.
“I seem to remember it was the Vince Wolowitz case. They found him tied to his bed in his house on St. Lawrence Avenue.”
“Oh yeah, Clason Point, near the Catholic church. His dog had got busy on his foot.”
“That’s the one. Neighbors said he had a hundred grand in a cardboard box under the bed.”
“But it was never found.”
“What was that, ’97?”
“August ’97. I remember it. You know? I wondered at the time about his family…”
“Yeah, I wondered that too…”
And the hands of clock moved on, toward departure.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
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DEAD COLD MYSTERY SERIES
An Ace and a Pair (Book 1)
Two Bare Arms (Book 2)
Garden of the Damned (Book 3)
Let Us Prey (Book 4)
The Sins of the Father (Book 5)
Strange and Sinister Path (Book 6)
The Heart to Kill (Book 7)
Unnatural Murder (Book 8)
Fire from Heaven (Book 9)
To Kill Upon A Kiss (Book 10)
Murder Most Scottish (Book 11)
The Butcher of Whitechapel (Book 12)
THE OMEGA SERIES
Dawn of the Hunter (Book 1)
Double Edged Blade (Book 2)
The Storm (Book 3)
The Hand of War (Book 4)
A Harvest of Blood (Book 5)
To Rule in Hell (Book 6)
Kill: One (Book 7)
Powder Burn (Book 8)
* * *
[1] See Murder Most Scottish
[2] See The Heart to Kill
[3] See An Ace and a Pair
Table of Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
EPILOGUE