Murder In the Past Tense (A Giorgio Salvatori Mystery Book 2) Read Online Free

to the first rope. He nodded to two firemen who handled the ropes back by the base of the ladder. One of them released the safety lock on the pulley, and they pulled back so that Pete’s feet left the ground. A few seconds later, he was hanging over the center of the well. The two men controlling the rope began to lower him into the opening.
    “Why the big rig?” Swan asked, nodding toward the fire truck.
    “We want him going right down the middle so he doesn’t hit the sides of the well,” the chief said. “It’s very unstable. That’s why we’re all standing back. We don’t want any more pressure up close.” He nodded toward the sheets of plywood that lined the perimeter of the well opening. “At least the demolition guys had enough sense to put down the plywood.” He rolled his eyes again, and his moustache twitched in mock appreciation for their effort.
    Swan nodded and they all waited patiently while Pete descended through the opening. It was only a minute or two before they heard the crackle of the radio.
    “At bottom,” he said.
    The firemen stopped extending the rope.
    “Give me a few minutes,” he said, his voice breaking up.
    As everyone waited above, there were intermittent bursts of light as Pete took pictures. When those stopped, Giorgio supposed he was beginning to unearth the remains. A couple of minutes went by. Then there were more bursts of light. Ten minutes later, Pete’s voice could be heard asking for the litter.
    Within seconds, the small boat-shaped device was lowered vertically through the opening of the well. As it slid past, a sudden breeze came up, blowing it sideways. It hit the edge of the well, dislodging a few bricks, which dropped into the depths.
    Everyone paused and held their breath. A moment later the radio spurted.
    “I’m okay,” Pete said. “Keep it coming.”
    It was a good five minutes before Pete’s voice finally sputtered on the radio again.
    “Bring the litter up,” he said.
    When the litter reappeared, it was filled with a body bag. The cradle was raised all the way to the ladder, and then one of the firemen pulled it up and over, before releasing it to slide down to another waiting team member.
    “God, these guys are good,” Swan mumbled, watching them.
    “Yeah,” Giorgio agreed. “Just think if that had been a live kid down there.”
    It was another minute before Pete’s yellow helmet appeared at the top of the well. His face and boots were dirty, but he was safe. By the time he was climbing down the ladder, the litter had been placed on the ground.
    “Now it’s your turn,” the chief said to Giorgio. “We don’t do dead things.”
    Giorgio snapped on a set of gloves and approached the small bundle. He and Swan crouched down and unzipped the body bag to find a bunch of bones with dry dirt still clinging to them. Bagged separately was a heavy, rusted zipper and two metal grommets with short strands of thick cotton thread attached to them.
    The bones were completely bare; there were no strings of cartilage or swaths of skin left. The bagged skull sat off to one side in the cradle. Also separately bagged was what appeared to be the plastic toe box and spiked heel of a woman’s shoe.
    A few large patches of a faded deep green polyester fabric was stuck to what looked like rib bones. And at the bottom of the litter, were the bagged pieces of a rigid plastic hairband. One piece of the hairband still had a small plastic flower attached. Its original dark pink coloring had faded to white in most places. Next to it was the bag holding the heavy metal chain with its heart pendant. Alongside that was one dangly heart earring.
    The Army shovel lay next to the remains, also bagged.
    Giorgio picked up the skull and peered at it through the plastic bag, turning it over in his hands. A moment later, he waved in the technician from the coroner’s office.
    “Don’t you want to see the rest of her?” Pete asked.
    He had jumped off the fire truck and was