Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [361]
“Okay, so why not at least invest some of it, like in the stock market?”
“Oh, Justin, what am I going to do with you?” Alice smiled and patted his arm as though he had made a joke. “The stock market is controlled by the government, too. Remember reading in your history classes about the Great Depression?” She was using her calm teacher voice with him. At least the worry lines had left her face for the time being. “Anytime the stock market takes a plunge, it’s the government causing the decline, stealing people’s hard-earned money and making them start all over again.”
Justin hadn’t really thought about it before. He knew his dad got really pissed when he lost money in the market. Alice knew so much more about this stuff than he did. History had never been one of his strongest subjects. He shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter to him. This time when she took his hand to lead him away, he let her and enjoyed the feel of her soft skin. He wanted to ask her about last night, about Father and the perverted moves he had made on her. Yet, at the same time, he didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to forget it had ever happened. Maybe it was best that they both did.
As they walked to the cafeteria, Justin decided instead to think about how much money must be buried in that hole. He couldn’t help wondering how many others knew about it. When they decided to leave maybe he and Eric wouldn’t need to hitchhike, after all.
CHAPTER 21
FDR Memorial
Washington, D.C.
Ben Garrison put his gloves back on and slapped the back of his camera shut on a fresh roll of film. He certainly didn’t want to waste any time or give Detective Racine a chance to change her mind. He stepped in closer, focusing on the woman’s face. She looked so peaceful, almost as if she were simply sleeping, despite being set up against a tree. Ben was fascinated by the blue tint of her skin. Had it been caused by the cold last night or a delayed reaction to the strangulation?
Even more fascinating were the flies, hundreds of them, persistent despite the activity of officers and detectives examining the area around them. They were huge and black, not your ordinary houseflies, and they seemed to be taking up residence in every one of the body’s orifices, especially the warmer, moist areas like her eyes and ears. Her dark pubic hair looked alive with them. Already Ben could see what had to be milky gray eggs nestled in the mass of thick hair.
Death and its rituals and all the natural processes that went along with it amazed him. No matter how many dead bodies he saw, he continued to be fascinated. Less than twenty-four hours ago something warm and pulsating had been housed within this body. In New Caledonia the old men called this a word that meant shadow soul. The Esquimaux of Bering Strait referred to it as a person’s shade. In Christian faith it was simply referred to as the soul. But now, whatever it was, it was gone. It had disappeared into thin air, leaving behind an empty, hollow carcass for insects to feed upon.
He remembered reading somewhere that in a week’s time, a human cadaver could lose about ninety percent of its original weight when left exposed to insects during a hot summer. Insects were certainly efficient and predictable. Too bad human beings weren’t. It would make his job so much easier.
“Hey, watch where you’re stepping!” a uniformed cop yelled at him.
“Who the hell are you, buddy?” a guy in a navy windbreaker and baseball cap wanted to know. He looked more like a third baseman than a cop. When Ben didn’t answer and continued to snap shots, the man grabbed him by the elbow. “Who let this guy back here?”
“Wait a fucking minute.” Ben twisted free and was immediately accosted by two uniforms. Now he could see the white letters on the back of the guy’s windbreaker: FBI. Shit, how was he supposed to know? The guy looked