directions. ‘This place gives me the creeps. It’s like a goddamn haunted house.’
‘I didn’t have you down as being superstitious.’
‘I’m not. I’ve just watched too many horror movies. Doesn’t it give you the creeps?’
‘Not really.’
The corridor running parallel to the stairs had two doors leading off it. The first one they tried opened on to the living room. He aimed the flashlight at the fireplace, saw the faded bloodstains on the floor and the arterial spray patterns on the nearby walls. There was a smaller stain on the floor near the dining table. The markings were consistent with where Birch said that Lester and Melanie had died. Mendoza crouched down by the fireplace and examined the stained wood, the beam of her flashlight playing back and forth.
‘Judging by these, I’d say that Lester got off easier than Melanie.’
‘That’s how I’m reading it.’
‘Poor kids.’
Winter went over to the dining table and laid his left hand on the wood. Birch had been right about this, too. It was roughly five feet by three feet, big enough for four. You could get six on it, but it would be a squeeze. He closed his eyes, saw the table set for four, but he couldn’t picture the scene as clearly as he’d like. He opened his eyes and headed back out into the hall.
‘Where are you going?’ Mendoza called after him.
‘To find a tablecloth.’
‘Ask a stupid question.’
The next door along led to the kitchen. It looked tidy enough, albeit with the layer of dust and the deserted feel that came from abandonment. Winter wondered who’d tidied up after the crime scene investigators had left. Lester’s parents? Melanie’s? He went through the drawers and cupboards and found most of what he was looking for on his first pass. Flatware, plates, wine glasses, candles. No candelabra but he did find some candlestick holders, There were cloth napkins and place mats in one of the bottom drawers. The mats were black instead of red, but they’d do. The only thing he didn’t find was a tablecloth. He heard Mendoza walk into the kitchen, saw the beam of her flashlight bouncing over the collection he’d put together on one of the work surfaces.
‘Take these back through to the living room,’ he told her as he headed back out to the hall. ‘I’m going upstairs to look for a bed sheet.’
‘This time I’m not even going to ask,’ she shouted after him.
Winter went back along the hall and took the stairs two at a time. There were three doors leading off the landing, all closed. The first door led to a small bathroom. There was just about space for a toilet, sink and bathtub. He heard Mendoza’s footsteps on the stairs, heard her walk along the landing. She stopped at his shoulder and looked past him.
‘No bed sheets in here.’
‘Nope.’
He closed the door and tried the next one. This room was painted a pale yellow colour and there was a crib pushed into one corner. White furniture, sky blue drapes and soft toys. There were brightly coloured dancing jungle animals on the walls. Elephants, tigers, giraffes and monkeys. On closer inspection, it was clear that the mural was hand painted. Mendoza let out a long heartfelt sigh.
‘Birch didn’t say anything about the Reed’s having a baby.’
‘That’s because they didn’t have one.’ Winter walked over to the cradle and plucked out two teddy bears. One was pink, the other blue. He held them up for Mendoza to see. ‘They were trying for one.’
Mendoza was looking around the room. She was somehow managing to look both angry and sad. ‘This job really sucks at times.’
‘No arguments there.’
‘You know, I deal with this shit day in, day out, and I think I’ve got immune, then I walk in on something like this. Lester and Melanie were just kids really. They had their whole lives ahead of them and that was stolen away from them. It’s not fair.’
‘No, it’s not.’
Winter went over to the closet. There were some crib sheets
Learning to Kill: Stories