Peter Decker 3-Book Thriller Collection. Faye Kellerman

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СКАЧАТЬ It prevents overcrowding. Her first premolars have been extracted. Somebody spent money on her teeth, Pete. Orthodonture isn’t cheap. And her general dental work was done by someone with integrity. The few silver fillings she does have were carved neatly. There’s a tiny sliver of an overhang on number three but it happens to the best of us. Little Jean took good care of her teeth and had excellent dental care—middle class or above.

      “Now take a look at the second Jane Doe. Let’s call her Jan.”

      Decker winced and the dentist noticed it.

      “Did I hit a nerve?” She grimaced. “Sorry—bad choice of words for a dentist.”

      “Jan’s my ex-wife’s name. I don’t carry the torch for her, but let’s call the bones Joan instead.”

      “Joan, it is. Poor Joanie. She never had a chance. Look at these teeth.”

      Decker picked up the pink casts. The first thing he noticed were the odd-looking front teeth.

      “They look like pegs,” he said.

      “Right. Pegs notched up the center. And her first lower molars are odd-looking also. The occlusal table or biting surface is a mushy pile of oatmeal, suggesting to me Hutchinson’s incisors and mulberry molars—congenital syphilis. Dollars to doughnuts Joan was born with VD. Furthermore, Mom didn’t do much to help her daughter’s mouth, postpartum. The teeth left on the jaws are full of caries—decay. Several are broken off at the root, suggesting severe decay. And the little dental work she’d had done in her lifetime was strictly temporary. Trying to hold back a cracked dam with Scotch tape. You’re looking at a girl who didn’t have the finer things in life.”

      “Unfortunately,” he said, “they both ended up in the same spot.”

      She shook her head, clearly bothered, and Decker liked that. Most of the people he worked with, himself included, had hardened their attitude so they could get the job done. You couldn’t let it get to you. But once in a while he liked to be reminded that murder was something to feel badly about.

      “So what do we have?” he thought out loud. “A middle-class sixteen-year-old female Caucasian about five four with a petite built, and a lower-class female Caucasian about twenty, five eight, with a big frame. Both were killed about three months ago, burned, and shot with the same .38 caliber.”

      “Amazing what a bag of bones will tell you. Where do you go from here, Pete?”

      “Shuffle papers. I’ll run a line on sixteen-year-olds reported missing for at least up to six months ago. A middle-class girl like Jean should have been reported missing, although as often as not, they’re runaways. The second one will be trickier because she’s older. May have been on the streets for years. I’ll go with Jean first. After I get the files, I’ll call the family and contact the family dentist. Then I’ll send all the Missing Persons X rays to you, and with a little bit of luck, you’ll get a match.”

      “Long shot,” Annie said.

      “Yep. But sometimes long shots pan out.”

      “Well, let me throw this out at you—and this isn’t in my report because it’s not an official observation. Children with congenital syphilis are often born deaf or with hearing problems. That might narrow your search for Joanie.”

      “Very helpful,” he said, rising. He stuck the pen in his notebook, flipped over the cover, and stuffed the notebook in his coat pocket. “Dr. Hennon—”

      “Annie,” she quickly said.

      “Annie, thank you for your time.”

      He held out his hand and their eyes met.

      “I’ve got an hour or so to kill before I meet a friend for dinner,” she said. “Want to grab a drink or two?”

      Jesus, Decker thought, two in one hour. He must be coming across lean and hungry. She was a fine looking woman with a very likeable disposition. If he’d met her six months ago, he would have jumped at the opportunity, but now there was Rina. Still he ruminated, there was no harm in one drink; sit and shoot the breeze. But what would be the point? Suppose he liked her and wanted to see her again as a friend. And suppose it led to something more, like casual sex. And suppose he began to enjoy the casual sex. Then he’d have to deal with two women. He knew he was a poor juggler, which meant they’d both inevitably find out and he’d lose everything—Rina and the sex. He’d pledged from the outset to give himself a year with Rina to figure out what was going on. And it had only been four months. Most important, he loved her and she loved him even if they couldn’t show it physically. It was absurd to think of other women when his heart belonged to Rina, but sexual deprivation was beginning to muddle his sensibilities.

      He realized he had been silent for an awfully long time.

      “Uh, thanks for the offer, but I’ve got to run.”

      “What the hell were you thinking about?” Hennon asked. “I’ve had pauses to size me up in bed before, but yours lasted so long you must have been up to the house and kids by now.”

      Decker broke into laughter.

      “There’s someone else … else of.”

      “Sort of?”

      “Well, we’ve got a few differences to work out, but so do all relationships.”

      “Then what are your plans for the evening?” she asked.

      “Nothing really. I think I’ll go home and pray.”

      “Pray? I didn’t figure you for a religious man.”

      And Babs hadn’t figured him for a cop. It was a good time for an undercover assignment.

      “Well, I don’t really know if you’d call me religious.”

      “What religion are you?” she asked.

      “I’m not quite sure. I’m Jewish … Jewish of.”

      “Sort of?” She licked her lips and pursed them slightly. He felt a stirring below. Suddenly the months of celibacy seemed like years. Man, he was horny.

      “Thanks again,” he said as he moved toward the door.

      “Have you always had trouble with commitments, Pete?” she asked.

      “Sort of.”

      Back home, after working out and grooming the horse, he grabbed a bottle of Dos Equis and picked up the phone. He stood with his hip against the kitchen wall, receiver tucked under his chin, and gulped beer while listening to the ringing on the other end. His ex-wife answered.

      Damn!

      “Hi, Jan,” Decker said. “Is Cindy around?”

      “She’s doing her homework.”

      “During Christmas vacation?”

      “Well, she’s working on something important.”

      “Can I talk to her, please?”

      “You СКАЧАТЬ