P Tracy - Play To Kill aka Shoot To Thrill

It wasn't really a long walk to the gate. It just seemed that way. Halfway there Theo stopped for a cell call, then hurried to catch up. 'Crime Scene might have found the knife in Huttinger's dishwasher.'

'There goes that evidence.'

'Maybe not. It's serrated. They can pull a positive blade match from where he cut her.'

Frost stopped in his tracks, thinking autopsy. You didn't excise flesh and bone for a weapon match from a live person, which meant Marian was dead. He didn't have to say anything. All Theo had to do was look at his Chief to know what he was thinking.

'Oh, damn, Chief, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Marian's doing fine. Getting better.'

Frost closed his eyes and exhaled.

'But the thing is, well, the throat wound was pretty ragged, you know? So the surgeon had to do some trimming before he could close it. He'd done a turn as county coroner a few years back, so he knows evidence. He took care trimming and saved the flesh for a possible match someday.'

Frost was looking out the window at the 737 pulling up to the gate. His smile was slow in coming, and just a little scary.

Clinton Huttinger was one of the first off the plane, and never in a million years would Frost have passed him on the street and thought that this was an evil man. He looked just like the pictures Theo had pulled off the Web. Clean- cut, well-dressed but not pretentious, a little half-smile permanently placed on lips that told everyone who saw him what a fine, gentle fellow he was.

'Mr. Huttinger?'

Yes.' The smile broadened. 'Can I help you?'

He didn't even go pale when Frost started the very careful process of placing him under arrest. He just stood there with a baffled little-boy smile, cooperating in every way possible, looking to all the curious passers-by more like a Boy Scout than a crazed killer. Frost played to the gathering crowd, apologizing to Huttinger for the necessity of handcuffs, inquiring as to their comfort.

'They're fine, Officer.'

'Chief.'

'Excuse me?'

'It's Chief Frost, Medford Police Department.'

'Oh. Pardon me. It's just that I won't be able to carry my bags with my hands behind my back.'

Frost smiled benevolently. 'Of course not. We'll be happy to carry them for you. Just the single case and the laptop?'

'That's right.'

Theo moved to pick up the luggage but the Chief intercepted him, bending to pick up the hard-bodied Samsonite case with the metal reinforcements at the corners, then standing quickly, suitcase swinging as he turned back to face Huttinger. Centrifugal force was an amazing thing, he thought, as the case swung wide and fast with the turn, headed directly for the gentle English teacher's crotch. Huttinger took a quick, panicked step backward, and Frost managed to stop the case's momentum with an inch to spare. He looked head-on at Huttinger and smiled.

'Whew. That was a close one.'

Huttinger didn't say a thing, but he wasn't smiling anymore.

Gino was leaning back in his office chair, head thrown back, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. 'Are my eyes bleeding? Because they feel like they are.'

Magozzi peered around the towers of paper that dominated the space between their desks to assess his partner's current ocular condition. 'I can't tell because you have your fists punched into your eye sockets. But if they weren't bleeding before, they probably are now.'

Gino sat up, flipped over another sheet of paper from his stack, and stared at it like a mortal enemy. 'Is there an ink shortage, or what? I swear to God, anything in print is getting smaller day by day. I always used to wonder what kind of people bought those cheap magnifier reading glasses they always have in baskets at drugstore check-out counters. Now I know.'

'Old guys like us.'

'Yeah. Exactly. So what are you squinting at?'

'North Shore and Chicago cases.'

'Find any connections?'

Magozzi leaned back in his chair and rubbed at the knots in his neck, which made really creepy, crunchy noises when he pushed on them. 'Nothing ties these two together, for sure. None of the same players as far as law enforcement goes, and two totally different crimes – one pedophile and one gang banger. How about you?'

'I was looking at the Elmore Sweet transcripts, but I started to get nauseated, then I started to get pissed, so I thought I'd read something lighter for a break.'

'War and Peace?

'L.A. He was the guy who was driving after his fifth DUI revocation and killed that family on 35 W a few years back. Guess he decided to relocate.'

'Maybe he was getting threats from the vies' family.'

Gino shrugged. 'I'll look into it.'

'Any overlaps with Sweet and L.A.?'

'Not that I can see. At least not yet. I still have some more dead trees to get through before I can tell you for sure.'

Magozzi sighed and returned his attention to the file he was reading. 'I guess all we can do is make a list of our major players, and we'll compare notes once we get through all this paper.'

'Which is going to take forever. You know how many names I have swimming in my head right now? Perps, vics, next of kin, witnesses, family members, lawyers, cops… This is a nightmare.'

'Maybe we should get Smith on board. He's sharing with us; only seems polite to share with him. After all, these are his cases, too.'

Gino's mouth curled into a smile. 'I like your train of thought, Leo. Very devious, like something I'd think of. Give him a call.'

While Magozzi was trying to reach Smith, Detective Johnny McLaren ambled in and set a big box of donuts on Gino's desk. 'Here's your cliche of the day.'

Gino could literally feel his pupils dilate. 'Are you kidding me, Johnny? Are you angling for beatification, or what?'

'I won the donut raffle this week. Thought I'd share the wealth.'

'What donut raffle, and why the hell don't I know about it?'

'Because you never come to my poker games. The biggest loser of the week has to buy for the biggest winner.'

Gino reverently lifted the lid of the box and selected a glazed disk of heaven. 'You are my hero.'

McLaren eyed the stacks of paper on Gino's and Magozzi's desks. 'Jesus. That's a Muir's Forest worth of pulp – were there just fifty new homicides that I didn't hear about?'

'Just our one river bride, but it might be connected to a bunch of other ones all across the country.'

'No way.'

Yes, way. It could be huge. We're even working with the Feds and Monkeewrench on this.'

Johnny's red brows peaked into twin Vs. 'Sounds interesting. A hell of a lot more interesting than the Litde Mogadishu drive-by Tinker and I pulled yesterday. We solved that homicide in about one second.'

'Oh yeah?'

Yeah. The perp was a shit driver – couldn't shoot and steer at the same time, so he wrapped his car around a telephone pole. When the first responders yanked him out through the window, he was still holding the gun.'

'That's priceless.'

Magozzi finally hung up the phone, greeted Johnny, then turned to Gino. 'Smith's tied up and can't help us right now. They've got a hot lead on the Wisconsin guy.'

'Excellent.'

'Who's Smith? Who's the Wisconsin guy?' McLaren asked.

Gino gestured to the files on their desks. 'All part of this mess. You want in on it? We could use an extra pair of eyes big time.'

McLaren shrugged. 'Sure, why not? Our docket's clear right now. I'm officially on vacation anyhow, so maybe the Chief will throw me some overtime.'

Gino pulled a chair for McLaren, and he and Magozzi gave him a quick overview and two of the murder files.

Magozzi said, 'Right now we're just looking for a link between the victims.'

'Cool. Cop work. I can do that.'

Write down every name you see, and anything else you think might be interesting.'