Blood Runs Cold. Alex Barclay
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‘Next of kin I have down as Patrick Transom, Jean’s younger brother,’ said Bob. ‘We’ll have to take care of the notification before this shit gets out. Ren, I’d be afraid to say it to another woman, but I’d like you to come with me for that feminine … presence.’
‘Jesus. You have me down as feminine?’ said Ren.
‘There’s a higher heel on your shoes,’ said Bob.
‘We’ve met Patrick,’ said Gressett. ‘Maybe Todd and I should …’
‘Let’s leave Bob and Ren to take care of it,’ said Gary. ‘We don’t want to all descend on him.’
Gressett slid forward on his seat. ‘Todd and I could –’
‘You’re too close,’ said Gary. Gary severed discussions; a quick, deep, cut – a special tone and a way of turning his head to focus on something else. ‘Bob, can you show us where we can work out of?’
‘Sure,’ said Bob. ‘We got an office cleared out there, computers set up, admin – you just let us know if there’s anything else you need.’
‘That’s great,’ said Gary.
‘Thanks,’ said Ren.
‘How many of your guys are coming down later?’ said Bob.
‘Three more from Safe Streets to join Ren for the duration of the investigation,’ said Gary. ‘And a bunch of agents who will be sent to us from any offices that can spare them.’
‘OK,’ said Bob, getting to his feet.
They all moved out of the office into reception. Ren pulled on her jacket.
‘Listen, go a little easy on people,’ said Gary, lowering his voice, leaning into her.
‘Like who?’ said Ren.
‘Gressett.’
‘Sorry … but he was being an asshole.’
‘Yeah, but we just got here.’
‘I know, but –’
‘You were the one who flagged the newbie thing,’ said Gary.
‘I know. It just came out. But, like he wasn’t going to find out.’
Gary let out a breath. ‘OK. Do you have everything you need for an overnight stay?’
‘Will I be doing the walk of shame tomorrow? Yes, sir.’
Bob threw Ren his keys and told her to go ahead. Outside, powdery snow fell heavily. Ren walked quickly to the Explorer and got in the passenger side, slipping in the keys so she could listen to the radio. She skipped all the pre-tuned stations and tuned in her own.
What kind of crap do you listen to, Bob?
He came out five minutes later.
‘What is that crap?’ he said, turning off the radio. He started the engine. ‘Right, we’re taking a little detour to the hospital. You can meet Corpses Maximus, our County Coroner.’
Denis Lasco was sitting forward in his bed with his back against three giant pillows. He was freshly showered and watching a DVD on a portable player. He pulled the earphones out when he saw Bob and Ren.
‘Lasco,’ said Bob, ‘I see your goddamn name in the paper every week, now this.’ He threw the Summit Daily News on to Lasco’s bed. ‘This is what the townsfolk will be having with their breakfast tomorrow morning. This time you’re not delivering the bad news, you are the bad news.’
‘Right, so I’m bad news as the victim of an avalanche,’ said Lasco. ‘A near-fatal blunt force trauma.’
‘This lovely lady is Special Agent Ren Bryce from the Rocky Mountain Safe Streets Task Force in Denver,’ said Bob. ‘And at least I don’t have to say that every day. She’ll be coming to talk to you – not right now, but I thought I’d have you guys meet.’
‘Well, nice to meet you,’ said Lasco.
‘You too,’ said Ren. ‘How are you doing?’
Lasco shrugged, then winced. He picked up the paper.
‘See the nice shit I said about you,’ said Bob.
Lasco read through it. ‘I see the bullshit you said about me. Blah, blah, blah … “we had to make a call. We knew we had a body and a possible crime scene. And Denis Lasco was committed to getting on up there to do his job. But that’s what we’ve come to expect from Denis Lasco.”’ He glanced up at Bob. ‘I like the ass-covering. Don’t think for a second, people, that the Sheriff’s Office marched him up the mountain.’
‘Christ,’ said Bob. ‘Zero to whining … Listen, we’re going to talk to Patrick Transom, the victim’s brother. Is there anything you can give us?’
‘What – to ease the blow? Like, she didn’t suffer, or something?’
‘I don’t know. You’re the coroner.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Lasco. ‘I’d love to be able to say something, but lying? Not so much.’ He turned back to the paper. ‘Ha,’ he said, ‘it’s like you thought I wouldn’t make it. It’s like a frickin’ obituary. “We love Lasco. We love Lasco. We are anticipating his demise.”’
‘You know you are, actually, a bitch,’ said Bob. ‘Next time a corpse slams into you, I’m going to tell the world you’re a whiner. Who lives in his pajamas.’
‘I’m in hospital.’
Bob rolled his eyes. ‘I swear you go out of your way to piss me off.’
‘It’s why I couldn’t die.’
‘Yeah, well, maybe next time a real live person’ll take you out. An elected official with the trust of the county.’
‘I’m an elected official with the trust of the county.’
‘All the better – you kill yourself, I don’t have to get involved.’
Lasco let out a long breath. ‘I think I need some quiet time.’ He turned away.
‘The drama,’ said Bob. He pulled the paper from under Lasco’s fingers and walked to the door. ‘Anyway, welcome back from the dead.’
‘To the dead.’
‘Your pals.’
‘My income.’ Lasco sighed. ‘Goodbye.’