The Devil Takes Half Read Online Free Page A

occurred without a body, a proper C orpus Delecti . Be it Eleni Argentis’ or someone else’s. Homicide was a serious matter, a term not to be bandied about, blood and body parts notwithstanding.
    The sun was up by the time he finished breakfast and returned to the dig site, the air already warm. It was going to be a hot day. Even now the cicadas were loud in the trees. A pair of goats watched him from a distance, their fur golden in the early morning light.
    Uninvited, the priest had followed him and now stood at the edge of the trench, looming over him, his black cassock billowing in the wind. “Chief Officer, with your permission, I’d like to assist you in your investigation.”
    â€œ Sorry, Father. You know that’s impossible.” Patronas was measuring the depth of the blood. He wasn’t sure what had happened, if the blood was even human, and he wanted to sort it out before his men arrived, before the day got any hotter. “This is police work and the police and the church, they’re at cross purposes. They don’t mix.”
    â€œ Hear me out. I can be of service. I’m familiar with the excavation. No one knows it better than I do. I am also familiar with crime detection. I am a fervent devotee of the mystery novel and of all manner of American detective shows. I know about trace evidence and DNA.”
    Patronas waved him away. “You are a man of faith, Father. You’ve no business in a homicide investigation.”
    â€œ Faith and homicide are not incompatible. The Bible is full of homicides.”
    â€œ Be that as it may, I have no need of your services.”
    Patronas entered his measurements in the spiral notebook he’d brought with him next to the date and time. He didn’t know what had transpired here, but he suspected it was a double homicide. He had never seen so much blood. Perhaps the priest was right and he should look to the forensic specialists on television to guide him. Write things down the way they did. As to what those policemen did with it after they wrote it down, he had no clue. As he’d told the priest, he’d never investigated a crime like this before. Assault and battery, sure. Violence against one’s spouse any number of times. But murder, never. As a cop, he was an amateur at best and he knew it.
    â€œ I can’t stop thinking about her,” the priest said. “Dead out here someplace.”
    â€œ What makes you so sure she’s dead?” There had been no doubt in the old man’s voice, only sadness.
    â€œ No one’s seen her. After I called you last night, I checked with Marina and Vassilis, people who were here yesterday. Eleni always said good-bye before she left, and yesterday she didn’t. Petros either.”
    â€œ Who was up here yesterday?”
    â€œ A lot of people: Petros’ mother and her boyfriend. Manoulis, I think his name was. Eleni’s stepmother, Marina Papoulis and Vassilis Korres, Jonathan Alcott, the American you met. Another archeologist was here, too, but earlier in the day. An Englishman.”
    â€œ Do you remember his name?”
    â€œ McLean.”
    â€œ Anyone else?”
    â€œ Not that I know of.”
    â€œ You were here the whole time?”
    â€œ No, I got a haircut in the morning, did some errands in town. But Marina Papoulis was here, getting lunch ready in the kitchen. She’ll know if anyone came by while I was away.”
    â€œ Did she go down to the dig site that day?”
    â€œ No. To my knowledge, Marina has never visited the excavation.”
    Not a long list. He’d start on it as soon as he finished here. “It seems she was concentrating on this end.” Patronas pointed to a break in the whitened matter, the broad indentation where the shards had been emptied out.
    â€œ Eleni kept a log. She told me you have to make a very precise drawing of the site with the elevations and afterwards number each fragment