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McKittrick exhaled slowly. I respect your judgement. Really I do. But I can't waste any more time on this. It's not a waste of time! Ingrid's voice was louder than she'd meant it to be. She was taking her anger at Faber out on McKittrick. McKittrick didn't deserve it. The detective plucked the report from the desk and held it up. OK! I know you wouldn't waste my time if you didn't sincerely believe there was a chance Younger might not be responsible for Lauren http://acontimo.ro/ Shelbourne's death. But there's something you don't know. Something that pretty much removes any doubt you might have about his guilt. I doubt you have that. This morning we carried out a second search of Younger's property. With dogs this time, concentrating exclusively on the garden. imobiliare bucuresti A second search, why? Something that came up in Faber's statement prompted us to search again. But you can't trust anything she says. Whatever's she's told you-- Enough! McKittrick dropped Ingrid's report into the trash can by her feet. Do you want to know or not? Ingrid looked down at the discarded report. Right at the back of Younger's garden, in the vegetable patch, buried under six inches of soil, the sniffer dogs found a half-burnt sweater. And I suppose Faber told you exactly where to locate it? And I guess you'll find traces of Lauren Shelbourne's DNA on it when it's yzed. Younger has admitted his affair with Lauren. It would imobiliare bucuresti be strange if her DNA wasn't on the sweater. We're not just talking traces of random bodily fluids. What do you mean? The burnt remains of Younger's sweater is smeared with blood. 56 Ingrid kept her finger on the buzzer a full minute. Still there was no answer. She stepped back down the stoop and looked up at Madison Faber's window. No face at the gl. No twitching of the window shade. Ingrid had left the station house with a sick feeling in her stomach. Though she'd suggested to McKittrick the sweater may have been planted in Younger's garden by Faber, the detective dismissed the idea as soon as Ingrid had admitted she had no way to prove it. Only Younger's word against Faber's. The guy didn't stand a chance. Ingrid had ped Ralph Mills in the reception imobiliare bucuresti of the station house. When you see your boss, she'd said, tell her I am one hundred percent certain she's wrong. So wrong, in fact, I'm willing to stake my retion on it. She was so angry by then, she'd practically spat the words at him. He'd looked at her non-plussed. Willing to stake my career, she'd said. Then she'd headed straight for her hotel, unlocked the safe in her room and removed her FBI issue Glock 23. In the cab on the way to Faber's apartment, she'd done her best to calm down. She needed to confront Faber with a level head. But hard as she tried, she just couldn't shake off the anger bubbling inside. Right now she was just as angry at herself as she was with Faber. How could she have been bucuresti so gullible to let herself be manited by Faber? Ingrid squeezed google her left arm against the gun, strapped in its holster beneath her jacket, and felt its reuring solidity press into her flesh. She tried the bell again. Then the one above it followed by the one beneath. The intercom crackled into life. Madison? she said. This is Mrs Palmer, flat one. I'm sorry to disturb you, ma'am. I'm looking for my friend--Madison Faber--I've come all the way from the US. She's expecting