Amos Walker: The Complete Story Collection Read Online Free

along at his side like a spaniel trying to keep up with a Great Dane. DeLong was a razor-faced twenty-year cop with horns of pink scalp retreating along a mouse-colored widow’s peak and the kind of crossed eyes that kept you wondering where he was looking. Kurof, a Russian-born bear of a man, bushy-haired and blue of chin even when it was still wet from shaving, bobbed his big head in time with De-Long’s mile-a-minute patter for a few moments, then raised a palm, cutting him off. After that they wandered the lot in silence.
    “What they looking for, rattlesnakes?” muttered a grizzled fatty in a baggy brown suit.
    “Vibes,” someone answered. “Emanations, the Russky calls ’em.”
    Lardbottom snorted. “We ran in fortune-tellers when I was in uniform.”
    “That must’ve been before you needed a crowbar to get into one,” said the other.
    I was nudged by a young black in starched blue cotton, whowinked gravely and stooped to lay a gold pencil on the ground, then backed away from it. Kurof’s back was turned. Eventually he and DeLong made their way to the spot, where the psychic picked up the pencil, stroked it once between the first and second fingers of his right hand, and turned to the black cop with a broad smile, holding out the item. “You are having fun with me, Officer,” he announced in a deep burring voice. The uniform smiled stiffly back and accepted the pencil.
    “Did you learn anything, Dr. Kurof? DeLong was facing the psychic, but his right eye was looking toward the parked cars.
    Kurof shook his great head slowly. “Nothing useful, I fear. Just a tangible hatred. The air is ugly everywhere here, but it is ugliest where we are standing. It crawls.”
    “We’re standing precisely where the body was found.” The inspector pushed aside a clump of thistles with his foot to expose a fresh yellow stake driven into the earth. He turned toward one of the watching uniforms. “Give our guest a lift back to Wayne State. Thank you, Doctor. We’ll be in touch when something else comes up.” They shook hands and the Russian moved off slowly with his escort.
    “Hatred,” the fat detective growled. “Like we need a gypsy to tell us that.”
    DeLong told him to shut up and go back to Headquarters. As the knot of investigators loosened, I approached the inspector and introduced myself.
    “Walker,” he considered. “Sure, I see you jawing with Alderdyce. Who hired you, the family of one of the victims?”
    “Just running an errand.” Sometimes it’s best to let a cop keep his notions. “What about what this psychiatrist said about the strangler in this morning’s Freep? You agree with that?”
    “Shrinks. Twenty years in school to tell us why some j.d. sapped an old lady and snatched her purse. I’ll stick with guys like Kurof; at least he’s not smug.” He stuck a Tiparillo in his mouth and I lit it and a Winston for me. He sucked smoke. “My theory is the killer’s unemployed and he sees all these women running out and getting themselves fulfilled by taking his job and sometimes snaps. It isn’t just coincidence that the stats on crime against women have risen with their numbers in the work force.”
    “Is he a minority?”
    “I hope so.” He grinned quickly and without mirth. “No, I know what you mean. Maybe. Minorities outnumber the majority in this town in case you haven’t noticed. Could be the victims are all WASPs because there are more women working who are WASPs. I’ll ask him when we arrest him.”
    “Think you will?”
    He glared at me in his cockeyed fashion. Then he shrugged. “This is the third mass-murder case I’ve investigated. The one fear is that it’ll just stop. I’m still hoping to wrap it before famous criminologists start coming in from all over to give us a hand. I never liked circuses even when I was a kid.”
    “What are you holding back from the press on this one?”
    “You expect me to answer that? Give up the one thing that’ll help us separate