surviving skull fragments and found no sign of them. Might’ve been a deer slug, of course…Anyhow, he didn’t die from whatever agent caused the chloracne.
Time
of death is a little iffy, too. My guess is that he was alive either when or moments before the train hit him—the pulpified tissue was markedly hemorrhagic, and according to your field notes, there was a lot of blood on the ground where the body was recovered.”
I filled the sudden silence that followed this long-winded equivocation with, “But you’re not going to commit a hundred percent to saying he died when the train hit him?”
He sounded embarrassed. “I think he did, but Dr. Hillstrom would probably insist on my sticking to the old adage, ‘He died between when he was last seen alive and when he was first found dead.’ I’m sorry if that’s not terribly helpful.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “I’ll let the lawyers worry about that if it ever gets to court. You’ve been a big help.”
He sounded relieved. “Okay. Well, call any time.”
“I do have one last question. In the prelim, you mention the standard ‘well-nourished male, normal in overall appearance.’ Would that fit the average street person?”
“Not one who’d been following that lifestyle for a while, but you got to start sometime. I just assumed he was a beginner and that the usual signs hadn’t surfaced yet.”
“So I wasn’t out of line thinking that his clean underwear was at odds with his beaten-up clothes.”
Short didn’t answer for a couple of beats. “That’s a discrepancy I didn’t think about. His socks looked regular, too—I mean compared to some I’ve seen.”
I smiled at the phone, childishly pleased at having a gut reaction borne out. “Good talking to you, Bernie, and thanks again.”
I hung up and shouted into the squad room, “Is Ron in yet?”
Klesczewski appeared, still wearing his coat. “Morning. You bellowed?”
I glanced at the new phone on my desk. We’d been equipped some time ago with a new communications system, including voice mail, intercom, and a half dozen other features I hadn’t bothered to learn. Typically, J.P. and Ron had mastered it overnight, Willy and I had barely acknowledged its arrival, and Sammie was somewhere in between.
I gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Old habit. I just talked to the ME. Our John Doe was exposed to some nasty chemical shortly before he died. It didn’t kill him, but it did screw him up—running sores and all.” I handed him Bernie’s preliminary report. “Dr. Short called it a dioxin. You hear about that abandoned truck at Bickford’s?”
His eyes widened. “Were those dioxins, too?”
“Could be. Contact Pat Mason at ANR and tell him we may have found a connection to his case. Also, if their lab wants to compare what he found in the truck bed to the clothes the ME sent to the state forensics lab, they might find something—unless, like we think, his clothes were switched before he was killed.”
Klesczewski nodded. “Will do.”
“Short also said he lifted a footprint from the dead man’s skin. He was pretty enthusiastic about it. If it’s as good as he says, maybe we could use it as evidence later. Did Tyler tell you about the partial license plate Renaud claimed he saw?”
“Yeah. I was just about to call DMV about it.” He hesitated and then added, “Willy also told me about the governor’s plan to overhaul law enforcement.”
I looked at him more closely, surprised by the change of subject. “I think it was vaguer than that. Wasn’t he talking about floating the idea at a few public hearings first, using Reynolds as a bird dog?”
“I suppose. Still, it’s a pretty radical idea, isn’t it?”
In several ways, Ron Klesczewski was the youngest member of the squad, although Sammie was his junior by a couple of years. Tough in a fight, and as good as anyone I knew with a computer, a phone link, and a data bank, he remained almost
Time
of death is a little iffy, too. My guess is that he was alive either when or moments before the train hit him—the pulpified tissue was markedly hemorrhagic, and according to your field notes, there was a lot of blood on the ground where the body was recovered.”
I filled the sudden silence that followed this long-winded equivocation with, “But you’re not going to commit a hundred percent to saying he died when the train hit him?”
He sounded embarrassed. “I think he did, but Dr. Hillstrom would probably insist on my sticking to the old adage, ‘He died between when he was last seen alive and when he was first found dead.’ I’m sorry if that’s not terribly helpful.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “I’ll let the lawyers worry about that if it ever gets to court. You’ve been a big help.”
He sounded relieved. “Okay. Well, call any time.”
“I do have one last question. In the prelim, you mention the standard ‘well-nourished male, normal in overall appearance.’ Would that fit the average street person?”
“Not one who’d been following that lifestyle for a while, but you got to start sometime. I just assumed he was a beginner and that the usual signs hadn’t surfaced yet.”
“So I wasn’t out of line thinking that his clean underwear was at odds with his beaten-up clothes.”
Short didn’t answer for a couple of beats. “That’s a discrepancy I didn’t think about. His socks looked regular, too—I mean compared to some I’ve seen.”
I smiled at the phone, childishly pleased at having a gut reaction borne out. “Good talking to you, Bernie, and thanks again.”
I hung up and shouted into the squad room, “Is Ron in yet?”
Klesczewski appeared, still wearing his coat. “Morning. You bellowed?”
I glanced at the new phone on my desk. We’d been equipped some time ago with a new communications system, including voice mail, intercom, and a half dozen other features I hadn’t bothered to learn. Typically, J.P. and Ron had mastered it overnight, Willy and I had barely acknowledged its arrival, and Sammie was somewhere in between.
I gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Old habit. I just talked to the ME. Our John Doe was exposed to some nasty chemical shortly before he died. It didn’t kill him, but it did screw him up—running sores and all.” I handed him Bernie’s preliminary report. “Dr. Short called it a dioxin. You hear about that abandoned truck at Bickford’s?”
His eyes widened. “Were those dioxins, too?”
“Could be. Contact Pat Mason at ANR and tell him we may have found a connection to his case. Also, if their lab wants to compare what he found in the truck bed to the clothes the ME sent to the state forensics lab, they might find something—unless, like we think, his clothes were switched before he was killed.”
Klesczewski nodded. “Will do.”
“Short also said he lifted a footprint from the dead man’s skin. He was pretty enthusiastic about it. If it’s as good as he says, maybe we could use it as evidence later. Did Tyler tell you about the partial license plate Renaud claimed he saw?”
“Yeah. I was just about to call DMV about it.” He hesitated and then added, “Willy also told me about the governor’s plan to overhaul law enforcement.”
I looked at him more closely, surprised by the change of subject. “I think it was vaguer than that. Wasn’t he talking about floating the idea at a few public hearings first, using Reynolds as a bird dog?”
“I suppose. Still, it’s a pretty radical idea, isn’t it?”
In several ways, Ron Klesczewski was the youngest member of the squad, although Sammie was his junior by a couple of years. Tough in a fight, and as good as anyone I knew with a computer, a phone link, and a data bank, he remained almost
Similar Books
Always You
Jill Gregory
Mage Catalyst
Christopher George
The Princess of Sparta: Heroes of the Trojan War
Aria Cunningham
Into the Future: A Callahan Novel
Celya Bowers
Exile's Gate
C. J. Cherryh
4 Terramezic Energy
John O'Riley
Ed McBain
Learning to Kill: Stories
Love To The Rescue
Brenda Sinclair
The Expeditions
Karl Iagnemma
The String Diaries
Stephen Lloyd Jones