The Deepest Wound (Jack Murphy Thriller #3) - Rick Reed Page 0,4

dumped here in a garbage bag and animals had a go at it, so it’s going to be hard to say when she died. But Little Casket’s here, and hopefully the autopsy will tell us more.”

“Do you need more detectives or uniforms for the search?”

“Crime scene is setting up a search grid. I’ll pass this on to Walker and see if he needs more people.” Jack didn’t have to tell the captain what the chances were of finding the rest of the body. It was a working landfill. That they had even found the head was pure luck.

“I called the chief. We’ll both be at headquarters in an hour. Keep me posted.” Franklin hung up.

There was a chain of command in police work, just like in the military. The brass was supposed to assist the investigator get the needed men or equipment, or to give the media a talking head—usually a lieutenant or above—to pass on information. This, in theory, allowed the detectives to work unobstructed.

In Jack’s experience, though, the chain of command did just the opposite. Every time he followed SOP and called the brass, they felt compelled to come in, and would make him stop whatever he was doing and come to headquarters to have a meeting. They wanted to make their suggestions, worry about the media, and then sit around useless as a bra on a bull.

But Captain Franklin didn’t interfere or try to direct the investigation from a telephone. He’d served in the field and knew what it was like. Plus, he would take the blame when Jack screwed the pooch, like a good leader. Of course, he got an extra twenty-four percent pay for his troubles.

Jack saw a familiar figure wearing hospital scrubs—complete with green medical cap, green paper booties, and a surgical mask—heading their way. Lilly Caskins, chief deputy coroner for Vanderburgh County, was a diminutive woman who had been dubbed “Little Casket” by local law enforcement officers because she was tiny and evil-looking and associated with death. Her large dark eyes stared out of thick lenses of horned-rimmed glasses that had gone out of style in the days of Al Capone.

Jack respected her work for the most part, but she had an annoying habit of being blunt at death scenes. He found it surprising that a woman could have no compassion for the dead, and no love for the living. She wasn’t trying to protect herself. She just didn’t like people.

“Who found her?” Lilly asked.

Liddell looked at the notes he’d been given by the first officer on scene. “A man and wife were dumping a mattress this morning. Apparently he stepped on it.”

“They wouldn’t have cut the fence,” Lilly said, looking at the section of fencing that had been spread wide by the crime scene squad. She frowned at the busy crime techs. “Walker and his team are here, so there’s nothing for me to do. I’ll wait in the Suburban until they’re done.” Lilly turned and marched promptly back to her vehicle.

“Look at this, Jack,” Walker said, motioning for a tech to bring the camera.

“Start taking pictures. I’m going to get a closer look.”

On hands and knees, Walker crawled into the circle of flags toward the head, his arms buried up to his elbows in the stinking trash and uncut weeds. He stopped and tugged something, then lifted the object for the others to see.

“What the—!” Liddell’s eyes widened.

Walker pulled an evidence bag from his belt.

“We need to back up, folks,” he said. “The scene just got bigger.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“Let’s talk to the couple who found the victim’s remains,” Jack said, and they looked toward the St. Joseph Avenue entrance to the landfill, where a man and woman were sitting inside a yellow Chevy pickup.

A black Lexus sedan with dark-tinted windows approached the gate and was waved through by another uniformed officer.

“The eagle has landed,” Liddell said under his breath.

“More like a vulture,” Jack murmured.

The car rolled to a stop, and Captain Dewey Duncan—who was square-shaped and bald as a baby’s ass with huge spaces between his peg teeth—literally leapt from the driver’s side wearing his dress blue uniform, complete with a police-issue eight-point cap, and rushed to open the door for his boss, Deputy Chief Richard Dick. Duncan seemed to be attached to his boss by an invisible tether. Liddell once remarked that when Dick had his hemorrhoids removed, he promoted them to captain and taught them how to drive.

Duncan was called an administrative assistant, but in truth he was little more