"Folsom, Allan - The Day After Tomorrow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Folsom Allan)

surgeon or by someone with surgical capabilities who had access to the
necessary instruments. After that, nothing else fit. Three of the
victims had been killed where they were found. The remaining four had
been killed elsewhere, with three dumped by the roadside and the fourth
tossed into Kiel Harbor. For all his years in homicide, this was as
confounding and more curious than anything he'dd ever encountered.

Then, golf clubs put away, and back in the damp of London, exhausted and
disoriented from the long flight, he'dd barely settled back on the thing
the hotel passed off -as a pillow and closed his eyes when the phone
rang and Noble informed him he had a head to go with his bodies.

It was now quarter of four in the morning, London time, and McVey was
sitting at a writing table in his closet of a room, two fingers of
Famous Grouse scotch in a glass in front of him, on a conference call
with Noble and Captain Cadoux on the Interpol line from Lyon.

Cadoux, an intense, stockily built man, with a huge handlebar mustache
he could never seem to keep from rolling between his thumb and
forefinger, had in front of him a fax of young medical examiner
Michaels' preliminary autopsy report, which described, among other
things, the exact point at which the head had been removed from the
body. It was precisely at this same point the seven bodies had been
separated from their heads.

"We know that, Cadoux. But it's not enough for us to say for certain
that the murders are connected," McVey said wearily. "The age bracket
is the same."

"Still not enough."

"McVey, I have to agree with Captain Cadoux," Noble said gently, as if
they were talking over four o'clock tea.

"If it's not a connection, it's too damn close to being one to ignore
it," Noble finished.

"Fine..." McVey said and repeated the thought he'dd had all along. "You
gotta wonder who this lunatic is we got running around out there." The
minute McVey said it both Scotland Yard and Interpol reacted the same
way. "You think it's one man?" they said together.

"I don't know. Yeah-2' McVey said. "Yeah. I think it's one man."

Begging off that jet lag was about to put him under and could they
finish this later, McVey hung up. He could have asked for their opinion
but didn't. It was they who had asked for his help. Besides, if they
felt he was wrong they would have said so. Anyway, it was just a hunch.

Picking up his glass, he looked out the window. Across the street was