Let Me In by Adam Nicholls (books under 200 pages .TXT) 📕

The murder site was a buzz of reporters, police officers, and onlookers from the local community. Camera flashes lit up the bustling crowd as people pushed and shoved to get a better view of nothing; the police had the scene wrapped up so tight nobody could get in.

Nobody except Morgan.

He kept close to Gary, squeezing through the civilians with his heart in his throat. There was no telling what he would find inside. There was a double homicide—he knew that much—but the details had remained a mystery. Gary probably thought it would be more impactful this way, and Morgan had to admit it worked.

Gary flashed his badge to an officer and said something Morgan couldn’t hear with all the ambient noise. Waiting on his own for only a second, Morgan scanned the crowd out of curiosity but found nothing. Still, that kind of inquisition was never wasted; the clues were often in the small things, and it never hurt to be aware of your surroundings.

A minute later, Gary waved him in. Morgan trailed behind him with his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, careful not to touch anything. They entered the house, where forensics took more photographs and officers hurried between the rooms. Morgan had never been a police officer, but he’d been let onto enough crime scenes to understand the anarchy that surrounded him. Everyone in a position of authority liked things a certain way, and that made it a nightmare for those on the ground. Morgan didn’t envy them.

“This is where the husband was stabbed,” Gary said, gesturing to the stained rug outside an open bathroom door. “Careful where you stand.”

Morgan noted the bloodstain and took a deep breath to steady himself. If this was only a sideline feature, he was scared to imagine what the main event looked like. “Where’s the body? With the coroner?”

“It will be soon. Follow me.” Gary held out an arm to make his way through a gathered group of officers, everyone huddled close together in the narrow hallway. “The killer dragged the body into this room, but we don’t know why. The other victim… Well, see for yourself.”

Morgan’s eyes took control then, leading him to view one of the worst things he’d ever seen. If he’d been more prepared, he would’ve taken a few seconds to collect himself before looking, but the heat of the moment had consumed his senses and put him on edge.

What he looked down at was beyond disgusting.

The husband lay at the feet of a seated woman—presumably his wife—whose legs were laced with thick trails of blood. A thick patch of scarlet covered her stomach, likely a result of multiple puncture wounds. Probably what killed her, Morgan thought, but he could only pray that’d happened before her face had been torn to shreds; flaps of skin and chunks of flesh hung from her bloodied face, obscuring her identity. The wide circle of horror on her mouth, however, promised little in the way of a swift, painless murder.

The image knotted his stomach.

“There’s an official ID on the body,” Gary said, turning his back to the gruesome scene as he ran a shaking hand through his thick, messy hair. “I’d ask if you recognize her, but you can see as well as I can.”

Morgan turned away too, his stomach unsettled and a vile watery taste filling his dry mouth. It was beginning to make sense now—the way Gary had been acting about this particular murder, why he’d been so unusually demanding that Morgan attend the crime scene. All the pieces fell into place too easily, and the identity of the female victim became clear in a heartbeat. “This is her, isn’t it? Carrie?”

Carrie Whittle had been Gary’s first love. They were high school sweethearts and went on to live together for two of the nine years they’d been an item. Whatever happened after that had been kept a secret, and Gary later went on to start a new life with Hannah, a woman perfectly suited to him, as far as Morgan could see. Everything had turned out for the best, but although Gary would never admit it, it was obvious he’d never truly gotten over Carrie.

“The bastard hurt her,” Gary said, his voice weak again. He spun around, locking his moist eyes with Morgan’s while he scratched his moustache—a thing he often did as a kind of reset before he took action. Some people blew out a breath or simply said, “Right,” but not Gary. A ruffle of his facial hair seemed to be all he needed. “Here’s the thing: the captain knows I have a past with the victim and doesn’t want me on the case. I’ve tried telling him I want to be the one investigating, but he thinks a desire for revenge might cloud my judgment.”

Morgan nodded. He had an idea where this was going. “What do you think?”

“Maybe he’s right.” Gary began to pace the room, folding his arms and lowering his head. “But I could live without the pressure. Can you imagine if I investigated but never got the answers I wanted? I’d have to go the rest of my life knowing I failed to avenge Carrie.”

“I get it,” Morgan said, now folding his arms too. “Don’t forget about Hannah either. I know she’ll understand what you’re going through, but she probably won’t like being a sounding board to your feelings about a past love.”

“Right.”

Morgan sighed, glancing over his shoulder at the nearby officers. The room was growing quiet now, and the coroner was probably due any minute. Whatever they had to discuss, that curtain would need closing fast. “I’m guessing the reason you summoned me here was to put me on the case. Is that it?”

“How would you feel about that?”

Morgan wasn’t sure, and that probably showed in his hesitation. As always, he wanted to help his best friend, and it just so happened that homicide investigation was his specialty, but what if he suffered the same problems as Gary? Morgan had only met the victim on a handful of occasions, but what if his loyalty to Gary stood in the way? Not only that, but if he failed to get answers, would it drive a wedge into their friendship? “I don’t know. I mean, there are other detectives in the department. Can’t they just—”

“It has to be you, Morgan.”

“Don’t first-name me, pal. You’re above that.”

Gary grunted, wiped his eye, and gave a semi-genuine half smile. He stopped in front of the window, his lanky frame hunched over his folded arms as his chest rose and fell in heaves. “Look, you’re a damn good investigator, and I know you get things done. The captain doesn’t always agree with me on that, but even he can’t deny the results.”

Morgan nodded. “I’m flattered. What does he have to say about me taking this case?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“Jesus, Gary.”

“But he will.”

“When?”

“Soon. The point is, I have a personal attachment to this case, and I want it solved. If it’s left in the hands of a second-rate detective and these morons, it’ll just end up another unsolved investigation.” Gary hiked a thumb over his shoulder at the officers. “We have some evidence to get you started on, and I’ll even pay you for your services.”

Morgan rubbed his eyes and checked his watch—one hour had passed since he’d left Rachel. That bath of hers was sure to be cold by now, so it wasn’t like he was getting home in time anyway. “What kind of evidence?”

Gary looked up, excitement flashing in his eyes. “A baseball cap was found in the bathroom. From a pizza place. Tell me you’ll look into it. Please, Morgan. If ever I needed help from you, this is the time.”

The pressure was already becoming too much, but Morgan was hardly the type of guy to let down a friend when he was in need. With that in mind, however, the problem remained that this case wasn’t necessarily solvable.

But should that keep him from trying?

“Okay,” he finally said, ignoring Gary’s hopeful grin. “I’ll give it my best shot, but I’m not making promises, and I won’t take your money. If that much is clear, then I’ll start right away, but you have to remember I can only do my best. Do we understand each other?”

“Definitely. Thank you, Morgan.”

Morgan sighed. “Let’s take a look at that evidence.”