Free The Devil in Gray by Graham Masterton Page A

Street, just off Nine Mile Road. Like, you know, instantly.”
    â€œWant to tell me why?”
    â€œIt looks like your invisible guy has been at it again. Some old coot’s been gutted like a salmon.”
    Decker said, “On our way,” and switched on his siren and flashing lights.
    â€œWhoo,” Hicks said, slapping his armrest.
    Decker U-turned the Mercury in the middle of Broad Street, its tires squittering, and headed east. “Did I tell you that I was going to be a father?” he asked Hicks.
    They stepped cautiously into the bathroom where the forensic team were already at work, waddling around in white Tyvek suits and taking tissue samples and footprints and measuring the smears of blood on the walls of George Drewry’s shower cubicle.
    Decker took a long look inside the shower. George Drewry’s eyes were still half open, as if he were right on the point of nodding off to sleep. A fly settled on his heaped-up intestines and one of the forensic team flapped it away.
    Decker turned back to Hicks and Hicks had his hand pressed over his nose and mouth. There was nothing guaranteed to bring up your breakfast more than the sweet smell of human insides.
    Decker looked around the white-tiled floor, which was decorated with blood, like blotchy crimson roses. “How many sets of footprints?” he asked Lieutenant Bryce, who was kneeling on the floor beside the toilet bowl, painstakingly dipping Q-tips into one of the gradually congealing petals.
    â€œOnly one, as far as I can tell,” she said. “Major Drewry’s wife.”
    â€œ Major Drewry?”
    â€œThat’s right. Fort Monroe, TRADOC, retired.”
    They left the bathroom and went back to the living room, where Cab was talking to the medical examiner, Erin Malkman. She was a handsome blond woman with a strong chin, deep-set eyes, and lips that were so full and glossy that they always looked to Decker as if she were halfway through eating an overripe apricot. Her Tyvek suit was half unzipped and she was tugging off her protective gloves.
    â€œHi, Erin. How’s the meat trade these days?”
    â€œHello, Martin. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
    â€œOh, I’ve been around.”
    â€œI’m sure you have.”
    He gave her a tight, humorless smile. “So what’s the picture here?”
    â€œI was just telling Captain Jackson that Major Drewry’s wounds are distinctly different from those that were inflicted on Alison Maitland. They’re triangular, and they were probably caused by a large blade that was sharp on one side and serrated on the other.”
    â€œBowie knife?”
    â€œSomething of that order. I’ve prepared some profiles of Alison Maitland’s entry wounds and of course I’ll be doing the same for Major Drewry.”
    â€œBryce said there was only one set of footprints in the bathroom—Mrs. Drewry’s.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Cab said. “Major Drewry had been out jogging … he came in and went directly to the bathroom to take a shower. When he didn’t reappear after ten minutes, Mrs. Drewry went in to see why he was taking so long, and that’s when she found him.”
    â€œShe didn’t see anybody?”
    â€œNope. We have some similarities with the Maitland killing here … no evidence of any intruder, no murder weapon, no witnesses. But, I don’t know … with Gerald Maitland in custody, my opinion is that we’re probably looking at a copycat.”
    â€œWhat about Mrs. Drewry? Is she a suspect?”
    â€œAre you kidding me? You should see her. She had blood on her hands and feet, but that was only consistent with going into the bathroom and finding Major Drewry’s body.”
    â€œWhere is she now?”
    â€œNext door, with her neighbor.”
    â€œWe’d better go talk to her then.”
    Erin said, “I’ll start on the autopsy as soon as I get the body