Free TRACE - CSI Reilly Steel #5 (Forensic novel Police Procedural Series) by Casey Hill Page A

surreptitiously slide a snack bar from his pocket. She and Chris exchanged a grin; Kennedy caught it and blushed, then shrugged. His colleagues knew his vices all too well.
    ‘But there was this one unsolved case that kept coming up when I ran a search for poisoning. A few months ago. A girl, living in a one room bedsit in Rathmines. Aspirations to be an actress, she had a couple of tiny parts in plays. 24 years old, she was found dead one day by her landlord. She worked part time as a waitress in town and she hadn’t shown for a week. But no one worried too much, because waitresses are always slipping the net. So she was in a pretty advanced state of decay. They couldn’t figure out if it was homicide or suicide.’
    He brought up two images side by side. The decomposing body of the girl on one side, and the recreation of her flat on the other. Reilly felt a stab of pity. Who would want four people dispassionately analyzing the contents of your life when you were dead? Everything this girl had was in this grimy little room. You could see her dreams in the theatre prints on the walls, her hopes in the obsessive neatness of the room.
    ‘They eventually landed on murder, because the pills she had taken hadn’t been swallowed whole, but crushed up and added to the food she was eating.’ He paused for a moment to let that fact set it. A third deadly dinner.
    ‘Added to that, it was clear that someone had been in the room with her. Neighbors had heard talking and laughter but no struggle of any kind. The place was clean. But, if you look here,’ He enlarged the recreation of the girl’s room and zoomed in on the bed. It was rumpled, indented. Someone had been lying there. ‘Same kind of thing as in the Armstrong case. Someone lay down in the bed. Someone that was heavier than the victim.’
    The victim herself lay neatly on the couch, as if slumbering.
    ‘Looks like we’ve got a repeat offender then,’ said Kennedy. ‘If there’s been three, and he’s got away with it, there’s probably more.’
    ‘And he’ll be looking to try again,’ Chris agreed.
    ‘We’ll look into the restaurant where she worked,’ said Kennedy, ‘see if we can make a few connections. Seems too good to be true that she worked in the restaurant business.’
    ‘This place doesn’t exactly match any of those that Jennifer Armstrong went to, though,’ said Reilly. ‘This is basically a burger joint.’
    ‘That’s why this one is mine,’ said Kennedy triumphantly. ‘The two of you can have your tiny pieces of duck liver or whatever it is. I’m going to eat some real food. And, if there’s information to be had, I’ll come back with it. Let’s see who has the most productive day, eh?’
    ‘You’re on,’ said Chris. ‘If you make it back to work, that is. You’ll probably give yourself killer indigestion.’
    Kennedy laughed. ‘Josie made me a salad for lunch,’ he said. ‘Anything’s better than suffering through that.’
    ‘We’ll meet you back here at 3pm,’ said Reilly. ‘Compare notes.’
    ‘Sure,’ said Kennedy. ‘Just let me know if you want me to pick you up a burger. I get the feeling you won’t be quite satisfied.’
     
     
     
     

 
     
    Chapter 9
     
    It was a beautiful early summers day for a change, and Reilly and Chris had an outside terrace table at Amuse Bouche, the first restaurant on their list licensed to import and use Joker Fruit aka antimine.
    Reilly had changed out of her work clothes into a simple black shift dress and high heeled boots. The whole point of her and Chris visiting was to not look like law enforcement. Kennedy would have stood out like a sore thumb but Chris had scrubbed up too, replacing his usual work uniform of T-shirt and jeans for a light blue tailored shirt and chinos.
    ‘Nice to see a bit of sunshine for a change.’ said Reilly. ‘I don’t think we’ve had one sunny day since I got back.’
    ‘You Americans, always complaining about the weather,’ said Chris.