Read Adam's Rib for Free Online Page B

bill, and maybe that’ll stop it from happening!” called the man in the jumpsuit, and he and his friend shared a hearty laugh.
    But Rocco remained straight-faced, leaning against thewall, lost in thought. “Holy shit!” he said, between clenched teeth. “I’m an idiot! Why didn’t I think of it? What a shitty profession this is!” Cursing, he left the game room before the astonished eyes of the two pool players.
    â€œALBE’, TELL ME THAT WHAT I’M THINKING DOESN’T hold up!”
    â€œRun it by me again, Rocco,” said the medical examiner, as he leaned over Signora Baudo’s corpse.
    â€œWhen I walked in, I switched on the light. And it short-circuited. So that means it was turned off before, right?”
    â€œOkay, Rocco, I’m with you.”
    â€œObviously, when she fell the poor woman yanked loose a couple of wires. When I flipped the switch I caused a short circuit. What does that mean? That she hanged herself in the dark. How did she do it? She lowered the blinds, fastened the noose, and let herself drop?”
    â€œThat doesn’t make any sense at all,” said Fumagalli, “and so?”
    â€œSo it must mean there was someone there with her. Whoever it was must have lowered the blinds after she hanged herself. Jesus fucking Christ!” Rocco cursed through clenched teeth.
    â€œAnd listen,” Fumagalli said, “as long as you’re here, I have something else to point out. Look at this.” He pointed to the victim’s fair skin.
    They walked over to the corpse, which Deruta and Rispoli had lowered to the parquet floor. “The cable is too thinto leave a bruise like that. You see it?” Alberto Fumagalli pointed to the purple stripe on Esther’s neck. It was a couple of finger widths wide. “When the cable dug into the flesh, it just left a narrow stripe; you see it? In other words, it wasn’t this cable that strangled her. That much is clear. And did you get a good look at her face?”
    Rocco sank into the leather armchair in the den. “Of course. She was beaten up. Do you know what that means?”
    Fumagalli said nothing.
    The deputy police chief continued with a low rattle, from the chest, a distant sinister gurgle like a rumble of thunder, warning of an oncoming storm. “That means this isn’t a suicide. It means I’m going to have to deal with this thing, and it also means a series of pains in the ass unlike anything you can even imagine!”
    Fumagalli nodded. “So now I’m going to take this poor creature to my autopsy room. And you’d probably better call the judge and the forensic squad.”
    Rocco suddenly jumped out of his chair. His mood had shifted as quickly as a wind at high elevation suddenly bringing black rain-heavy storm clouds where minutes before the sun had been shining.
    As he left the room Rocco glanced at Deruta and Caterina. “Rispoli, call the forensic squad in Turin. Deruta, go do what I told you and D’Intino to do this morning.”
    â€œBut we’re supposed to do the stakeouts at night,” the cop shot back.
    â€œThen go get some rest, go make bread with your wife, just get the hell out of my hair!”
    Like a kicked dog, Deruta shot out of the apartment. Caterina asked no questions. Unlike Officer Deruta, she had learned that when the deputy police chief’s mood turned sharply black, the best thing was to shut up and obey.
    â€œPierron!” Rocco shouted, and Italo’s face appeared immediately at the door to the living room.
    â€œYes, Dottore.”
    â€œScatter the people who are rubbernecking out in the street. I want the names of the Russian woman who was the first to enter the apartment and that half-dead warrant officer. Tell Casella to get busy and make sure nothing comes out in the newspapers. Question all the neighbors, and have someone call the district attorney’s office. This is another pain