Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (best thriller books to read .txt) 📕

of opportunity to talk in depth and in detail, but first, there are a couple of things I need to do. Number one, you are going to write me a letter of authorization, on letter-headed paper, with an official stamp, allowing me to dig up the whole, damned churchyard if I need to. If you don’t, I will get a court order from a judge. You understand me, Father O’Neil?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Now you have one chance, one shot. I haven’t decided what to do with you yet, but cooperate with me and I will listen to your story.”

“I understand.”

“After you have written the letter of authorization, I want a full confession, detailing the parts played by Mick Harragan, Conor Hagan, Sadiq Khan, Bishop Bellini…” I watched his face carefully as I mentioned each name, the frowns, and the winces. “All of them. Do we have a deal?”

He seemed to sway, like he was about to pass out. “Yes. Please, take me inside, I don’t feel well. ”

“Okay.” I took his arm. “Let’s go.”

We went to his study where he wrote out the letter of authorization in careful long hand, then signed and sealed it. After that, he called Mrs. Doyle and asked her to pack him an overnight bag.

“I shall be assisting the police with their inquiries over the next couple of days.”

She looked impressed and hurried upstairs to prepare his bag.

At the station house, we left him in the care of a uniformed officer in one of the interrogation rooms and Dehan and I climbed the stairs to the captain’s office. I knocked and opened the door as he answered. He looked surprised, but not as pleased as he had been the day before.

“Stone, Dehan. It seems like only yesterday…”

I dropped the letter on his desk and didn’t sit down. He looked at it, then at us. He opened it and read it, then sighed.

“Detective Stone, you are an implacable man. I am glad I am on your side…” There was an implied ‘but’, but he didn’t go there. He dropped the letter on the desk and asked, “How did you secure this? Presumably if he is agreeable, there is nothing to dig up?”

It was Dehan who answered. “His fingerprints are on each and every one of the photographs, from twelve years ago.”

He echoed the Father. “Sweet Jesus!”

I took back the letter. “He has agreed to cooperate fully on the condition we listen to his story, and on the off chance of a deal.”

“There was no trickery or entrapment?”

“Of course not.”

He rubbed his face with his hands. “The shit is really going to hit the fan, Stone. I don’t want any of it to land on the 43rd, you understand me?”

I took a moment to answer. “The shit is going to land where the shit is going to land, Captain. We are cops simply doing our jobs, and if the investigating officers had done their jobs twelve years ago, we wouldn’t be in this situation now.”

Dehan had to speak up. She couldn’t keep quiet.

“Sir, there are probably twelve or thirteen young girls’ remains buried in St. Mary’s churchyard. Those girls were probably forced into prostitution and murdered, and Father O’Neil has as much as admitted all of this. I am having trouble understanding exactly what the options are, and what it is we are discussing.”

His face went rigid, but he couldn’t think of an answer. I gave him a sweet smile and said, “Detective Dehan isn’t looking to get promoted any time soon, sir, but I would have to agree with her. We have no option but to dig.”

He nodded. “Take four men, and a Crime Scene team. Where is Father O’Neil now?”

“In interview room three, waiting to give us a statement.”

He frowned. “You can’t hold him without charge. Once he has given you his statement, you either charge him or let him go.”

I sighed. “Yes, sir.”

He said, a little reluctantly, “It’s good work, both of you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As I opened the door, he said, “Stone, don’t ambush me again. I’m on your side.”

“Wasn’t my intention, Captain, I just did what I needed to do to get the job done.”

“And Dehan?”

“Yes, sir?”

“It was a fair point, it’s just,” he spread his hands, “things aren’t always that simple on this side of the desk.”

“Yes, sir.”

On the stairs, Dehan said, “You want me to take O’Neil’s statement while you assemble the team and call Frank? I can join you at the church when we’re done.”

I stopped and stood chewing my lip for a minute. Then I shook my head.

“No, he’s going to wriggle and writhe and squirm like a worm on a hook. He won’t know whether to implicate the world and his cousin to save himself, or protect them all to save himself. We’ve got a few hours before we need to let him go. Let him sweat and think through all the angles. Sooner or later, he’ll realize he’s out of choices. Meanwhile, I want to see what we find under those trees before we talk to him.”

“Makes sense to me.”

Sixteen

Frank’s team had brought a Bobcat in the back of their truck, and before the guys with the shovels and spades could get started digging pits, the Bobcat had to uproot and remove the fruit trees. Meanwhile, I had the uniformed officers seal off the churchyard with tape. Once the trees had been pulled out and removed to one side, I had them set up screens and the CSI team moved in. While the guys in uniform dug, the CSI team sifted. It was a slow and painstaking task, and it drew attention. Pretty soon there was a small crowd peering through the railings and standing behind the tape at the church gate, seeing if they