Jack vaguely heard Roscoe exclaim in surprise over the phone, followed by what seed to be an intercom call. "Are you serious? Why didn't Finlay call first? Ah, his call is coming."
"You should ask Finlay. How long until you get to Morrison's house?" Jack asked.
"About 20 minutes," Roscoe replied.
"See you in 20 minutes then."
Jack quickly washed up, went downstairs to buy a fish sandwich, ate it in a few bites, and drove to the address Finlay had given him.
The police chief's house was a sizable villa with a neatly trimd lawn and a pleasant surrounding environnt, much like the town square — all show and no substance.
But now, the villa was cordoned off, and two police cars were parked on the side of the road.
When Jack arrived, Roscoe and Reacher had also just arrived. The three of them t without saying much and went to the door together, where Finlay was already waiting.
However, Jack sensed that he wasn't waiting for soone, but rather seed to be running away from sothing, as if there was sothing inside the villa that terrified him.
"What happened inside?" Roscoe, who was walking in front, asked.
Finlay clenched his right fist and put it to his mouth, seemingly feeling nauseous, perhaps because Roscoe's question reminded him of what he had just witnessed.
"The cri scene was more horrific than any I've seen in Boston. Believe , I've seen my share of big scenes in Boston."
Reacher, who had been keeping a straight face since he saw Finlay, asked calmly, "Was he nailed to the wall?"
Finlay looked up at him in surprise. "How did you know?"
Reacher didn't answer and walked straight inside. Jack, who was following behind, added, "Was his wife also bled to death, probably before him?"
Finlay's eyes widened, and then, as if he had thought of sothing, he quickly followed.
There was nothing unusual at the door, but as they crossed the living room and entered the hallway connecting the bedrooms, a strong sll of blood hit them, as if they had entered a slaughterhouse.
Jack sniffed; there seed to be a strange latex odor mixed in with the blood, like the sll of a freshly opened pack of dical latex gloves.
Entering the bedroom with the door open, Roscoe, who was walking in front, glanced inside, then stopped at the doorway, turning her head away, unable to bear the sight, and uttered a soft cry, "My God!"
Reacher and Jack carefully avoided the bloody footprints on the floor and entered the room.
A double bed, which had originally been in the center of the bedroom, had been lifted and leaned against the wall. On the floor where the bed had been lay a blood-soaked female corpse, face down, obscuring her features.
However, judging from the blood-soaked old-fashioned silk nightgown and the skin on her neck, she was likely a middle-aged woman. Her fingers, gripping the carpet so tightly that several nails were broken, clearly indicated the imnse pain she had endured before death.
Even more horrifying was the presence of Police Chief Morrison, whom the two had t briefly at the police station and who had been hostile to Reacher. He was completely naked, arms outstretched, and nailed firmly to the wall where the bed should have been, in the posture of crucifixion, with six thick steel nails.
Jack noticed that if the figure on the wall looked down, its gaze would be directly at the female corpse on the floor — a scene exactly as Paul had described to the two n in prison.
A young coroner was recording a description of the scene with a voice recorder, while his assistant took photos with a cara.
Reacher seed oblivious to the grueso scene before him, and after careful observation, turned his gaze to Jack, who was also ticulously examining the scene.
Jack pointed to several bloodstains and bloody footprints.
"There were four murderers who entered the room. They should have been wearing protective suits or sothing similar. There are clear traces of blood near the footprints, caused by splattered blood dripping down."
"Those who do this are professionals. The bloody footprints have the sa pattern but are different sizes, indicating that the murderers all wore rubber shoe covers. There are several bloodstains on the wall with finger marks but no fingerprints, aning they were all wearing latex gloves."
"Both bodies are covered in knife marks, but apart from the final fatal cut to the male victim's neck, the other marks are very shallow. The marks suggest serrated blades, indicating the injuries were primarily for torture."
"Based on the wounds and the amount of bleeding, the female victim was tortured for at least an hour. I can't even determine if she died from pain or excessive blood loss; that requires a detailed autopsy."
After listening to Jack's rough assessnt of the scene, and seeing his gaze turn to him, Reacher shrugged. "You've said everything, I have nothing more to add."
"Oh, holy shit, his damn organs were cut out!"
The young coroner suddenly scread, startling everyone present.
"Gasper, stay professional. Swearing is a sign of weakness," Finlay reprimanded, completely unlike his earlier retching appearance outside.
"Sorry, the body under the overpass was the first case I handled, and then this one…" The young coroner, Gasper, forced a smile that looked more like a grimace on his chubby face.
"Where exactly is it?" He faced Finlay, his eyes darting around as if searching.
"In his stomach," Jack and Reacher said in unison, giving a similar answer.
With a clatter, the young coroner's recording pen fell to the ground, and he stood motionless, stunned.
Finlay's face was as black as the bottom of a pot. "You two, co out here."
Outside the villa, several curious citizens stood outside the police cordon, peering in. The other two officers from the Margrave Town Police Departnt, the bald, elderly officer Baker and the seemingly honest young officer Stevenson, were talking beside a police car.
Seeing the group erge from the villa, Stevenson abandoned his companion and strode to Finlay.
"Detective, what did they do to the chief? Baker won't tell ."
Finlay sighed. "You can go in and see for yourself, but I don't recomnd it."
Stevenson nodded, about to go inside, but then stopped as if rembering sothing. He glanced at Reacher and Jack, then tugged at Roscoe, signaling her to co aside and talk.
Unfortunately, they hadn't gone far enough, and Jack could hear their conversation clearly.
"My cousin Charlie is very worried and has called several tis. Her husband, Paul, didn't co ho last night. I know you're close to Charlie, could you go check on him for ? I need to guard the scene here, so I can't leave right now."
Roscoe nodded in agreent. "No problem, I'll be there in a bit. I'm handling Paul's case, and I was planning to visit him anyway."
Finlay was already quite impatient and ready to explode.
"Alright, stop playing gas now. When are you two going to…"
He was interrupted by Jack halfway through his sentence.
"Let's find a quiet place to talk. I think it's not just you, Roscoe has a lot of problems too."
Roscoe, who had just returned to the group, glanced at Reacher and nodded. "Let's go to my house. My house is secluded; it should be 'quiet' enough."
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