Page 120 of Dead Man's List

“I bet you have,” Kit said. “I wouldn’t be getting a wink of sleep if I knew that Munro had a list with my name on it, just waiting to be shared with everybody in the event of his unfortunate demise.”

Daly looked back down at the table, but his throat worked as he tried to swallow.

“It was averyunfortunate demise, too,” Connor said. “His body was nearly unrecognizable. Luckily, he had that neck tattoo. His killer was angry.”

“Or hismanykillers,” Kit said, her smile slipping into somethinggrim. “Did you help, Mr.Daly? Was one of those many stab wounds by your hand?”

Daly flinched again, which was very interesting.

“That’s enough,” Daly’s attorney snapped. He stood up. “We’re done.”

“We’re not,” Kit said, all pleasantry gone. “Sit down, please.” She waited until he’d done so. “Mr.Daly, that dead-man’s-switch list is still out there. Several people have searched for it, but to no avail. Somebody found it, though. Of that we’re pretty sure. Probably the person who cut off all of Munro’s fingers and toes to get him to talk.”

Daly swallowed again, his shoulders hunching forward.

“He’s gonna puke,” Navarro said blandly.

Sam hoped not. It looked like Daly was holding it together. But barely.

“Maybe notallhis fingers and toes,” Connor said. “Sure, they were all cut off, but I’m betting Munro caved after the first few and told his tormentors what they wanted to know. The rest were likely cut off just for fun.”

Daly clamped his hand over his mouth.

“Trash can is behind you,” Kit said.

The information was given just in time, because Daly grabbed the can and retched into it.

Sam grimaced. “I hate when they puke.”

“Not my favorite thing, either,” Navarro agreed. “At least he hit the can. Sometimes they miss.”

“So gross,” Sam muttered, feeling green just watching.

“Are his reactions legit?” Navarro asked.

“The puke is real,” Sam said. “The rest, I’m not sure. He certainly knows about the list Munro kept. And I’d bet that it has been keeping him awake at night. He looks like he hasn’t slept well in some time.”

“That’s what happens when you do crimes that get you blackmailed,” Navarro said.

“He flinched when Kit asked if he was one of the people who stabbed Munro. If he wasn’t, he knows who was.”

Navarro sighed. “Damn. I hated that multiple-hands theory as much as Kit did, but it’s looking viable.”

“The thing is,” Kit was saying, “just because Munro is dead doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. I’d expect a call or text or singing telegram from the guy who now holds the list giving you a new payday and a new drop location.”

Daly closed his eyes, defeat in the movement.

“Yes,” Sam whispered. “He’s already been contacted.”

“I think you’re right, Doc,” Navarro said.

“Was it a call, text, or singing telegram, Mr.Daly?” Kit asked cheerfully.

His skin pale and clammy, Daly just glared.

Connor slid Walter Grossman’s mug shot across the table. “Know this guy?”

Daly’s eyes burned as he stared at the mug shot but no words left his mouth.

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