"Elrod, P N - Vampire Files 09 - Lady Crymsyn E-Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

depressing sight of those endless dark tunnels and piles of ancient bones
reminded us too much of what we'd seen on the battlefields. We got out fast and
spent the rest of the day and night in a roaring alcoholic fog. The memory came
back to me all over again here, razor-sharp.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered, not knowing if it was a prayer or a curse. Escort's
face was serious, and he shot me an uneasy look. He'd have picked up on the
smell, too.
Leon continued. "With all the crap down here and it being so dark and crowded
with the other walls up, you wouldn't notice it so much. But after we got the
lights in a couple of us wondered why this one wasn't as deep as the others. The
bricks are a little different in color, too. Not as old as the rest. When we
started this part of the job we found out." He pointed to a black opening in the
newer brickwork about a yard above the floor. It was the right height for
someone to swing a pick. A couple of courses had been pried loose and now lay
with the rest of the rubble. The hole wasn't more than two feet across and half
a foot high, and was the source of the musty smell.
Leon unhooked a flashlight from his tool belt and handed it to me, then stood
back. From his manner and Escott's morbid suggestion I already knew what would
be there, but I'd have to take a look. I was the boss; it was expected of me.
The flashlight beam was faded from use. Leon must have let the other guys have a
good view, too. I angled it around, reluctant to get too close. The uncertain
light at first revealed only that there was a space beyond the hole that stopped
abruptly about an arm's length in. The opposite wall. The real one.
Now I aimed the beam downward and caught a glimpse of naked bones. I was
half-prepared to see a grinning skull, but it wasn't visible. After a few
seconds I realized I was looking at the regular knobby march of a spine. The
body was lying facedown, then. Amid the pale bones was an incongruous glitter
and matted twists of what had been bright red fabric.
Dear God. A woman. The glitter came from the sequins clinging to what was left
of her evening gown. I stepped back and gave Escott a chance to look. He kept
his expression impassive the whole time, but when he turned around all the blood
had drained from his face. His eye-brows and the thin line of his mouth stood
out against the gray flesh as though they'd been drawn on.
"Damn, but sometimes I hate being right," he said. His voice had a brittleness
to it that I rarely heard. Only when he was deeply affected by something did he
sound like that.
Couldn't blame him. I got the light and steeled myself for another look. There
wasn't much more to see because of the narrowness of the opening, and I didn't
care to pull any more bricks out. During my time in New York as a reporter I'd
learned the cops get real annoyed when civilians disturb a crime scene.
The one new thing I did find out from this second glimpse turned me cold and
sick. I could just see the handsЧwhat was left of them. They'd been secured
together behind her with handcuffs. Also, some stuff that looked like electrical
cord started at her wrists and went up to the elbows. Whoever had done the job
didn't want to risk her getting free, because a heavy chain led from the
handcuffs to a thick bolt set into the inside wall.
"You noticed?" Escott was at my shoulder.
"Yeah," I whispered, with hardly enough spit in my mouth to talk. Dear God in
heaven.
"I may be speaking without benefit of absolute proof, but from that and the odd