desk. ‘Want one?’
He looked up. ‘Yeah, thanks. Cream and sugar.’
‘Coming up.’ She wandered out of the office.
‘Liza?’ he called out. ‘Just realised I haven’t eaten today. Could you bring me back a sandwich?’
‘Sure. What do you want?’
‘Oh, anything. Cheese, bacon..?’
‘Really. Anything.’ Leroy turned back to his screen and read Hobson’s reports again. When Domingo returned, he was searching the database for missing person reports.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘How much do I owe you?’
‘Forget it.’ She rested her hand on his shoulder and went back to her desk. Leroy frowned. There was nothing on the two reports about either of the victim’s wearing a wedding band. Not that the absence meant anything striking. Not every married man wore one, and a man living with a partner would be missed. And it was possible that they might have removed a wedding band before going to a sex and drugs party; in that case there would probably be a white ridge on the finger. Leroy’s problem would be if the guy was single, living alone. It could be days before anyone reported him missing.
Leroy clicked on the folder icon and the missing persons database opened. He tabbed down the Date Reported column until he reached the date for the previous Monday. Then he slowly moved the cursor down over the entries, searching for matches.
‘I wonder.’ He clicked on the fifth entry down. It was for a man from Culver City, born thirty years ago. Leroy tabbed down to a photograph. ‘Damn,’ he muttered. The photographs were no match. The same again for the next entry. And the next. And the next.
Domingo called out, ‘What are you looking for, Sam? Anything I can help with?’
He swung round again. ‘No, I’m okay, thanks. Just searching the MPU database to see if I can come up with names for the John Doe I got last Friday. And Bill Farmer’s up in Hollywood.’
‘You had a John Doe on Friday?’ Domingo asked.
‘Yeah. And the next night, Bill Farmer up in Hollywood Division caught one in a back alley. Asked me to take a look at it on account of the circumstances being so similar to mine. Had to miss half of Quinn’s wedding to get up there.’
‘Both men?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, both men,’ he replied as he swung back to his desk. ‘Mid thirties.’
‘Only wearing shorts, cause of death as yet not ascertained?’
Leroy pushed back against the desk, moving his chair back three feet as it swung back round to face Domingo.
Domingo looked up from her screen.
‘We had one last night.’
THIRTEEN
‘ You had what? ’ Leroy said. ‘You had one of your own? Why didn’t you tell me?’
Domingo cocked her head to one side. ‘Sam,’ she said, ‘you only just told me yourself. I thought ours was a one-off.’
‘Yeah – where’s…what’s your partner’s name?’
‘Connor. Judd Connor. Only been here three weeks. We were both up till one on this case. Told him to take today off. He has a family after all.’
‘Don’t tell Quinn that. The number of times we’ve been working till one and been in at eight the next morning.’
‘ Quinn?’ she asked, looking into space in mock contemplation. ‘Isn’t he the guy you let off for ten days on account of his getting married?’
‘Yeah yeah yeah. What was I supposed to do? In any case, forget about Quinn. Tell me about your body.’
She raised her eyebrows.
‘You know what I mean,’ Leroy grinned.
She picked up her paper cup and drained it. Leaned back in her chair.
‘Black male, aged thirty to thirty-five, wearing only underpants, found by the side of the I-5 at Griffith Park last night.’
‘Black, you say?’
‘U-huh. Why? Is that important?’
Leroy shrugged. ‘Probably not. The other two were white. Sorry. Carry on.’
‘We figured he’d fallen or rolled down the hillside from Crystal Springs Drive. Or Griffith Park Drive. Both highways run about a hundred feet above.’
‘Sure. I know where you
He looked up. ‘Yeah, thanks. Cream and sugar.’
‘Coming up.’ She wandered out of the office.
‘Liza?’ he called out. ‘Just realised I haven’t eaten today. Could you bring me back a sandwich?’
‘Sure. What do you want?’
‘Oh, anything. Cheese, bacon..?’
‘Really. Anything.’ Leroy turned back to his screen and read Hobson’s reports again. When Domingo returned, he was searching the database for missing person reports.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘How much do I owe you?’
‘Forget it.’ She rested her hand on his shoulder and went back to her desk. Leroy frowned. There was nothing on the two reports about either of the victim’s wearing a wedding band. Not that the absence meant anything striking. Not every married man wore one, and a man living with a partner would be missed. And it was possible that they might have removed a wedding band before going to a sex and drugs party; in that case there would probably be a white ridge on the finger. Leroy’s problem would be if the guy was single, living alone. It could be days before anyone reported him missing.
Leroy clicked on the folder icon and the missing persons database opened. He tabbed down the Date Reported column until he reached the date for the previous Monday. Then he slowly moved the cursor down over the entries, searching for matches.
‘I wonder.’ He clicked on the fifth entry down. It was for a man from Culver City, born thirty years ago. Leroy tabbed down to a photograph. ‘Damn,’ he muttered. The photographs were no match. The same again for the next entry. And the next. And the next.
Domingo called out, ‘What are you looking for, Sam? Anything I can help with?’
He swung round again. ‘No, I’m okay, thanks. Just searching the MPU database to see if I can come up with names for the John Doe I got last Friday. And Bill Farmer’s up in Hollywood.’
‘You had a John Doe on Friday?’ Domingo asked.
‘Yeah. And the next night, Bill Farmer up in Hollywood Division caught one in a back alley. Asked me to take a look at it on account of the circumstances being so similar to mine. Had to miss half of Quinn’s wedding to get up there.’
‘Both men?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, both men,’ he replied as he swung back to his desk. ‘Mid thirties.’
‘Only wearing shorts, cause of death as yet not ascertained?’
Leroy pushed back against the desk, moving his chair back three feet as it swung back round to face Domingo.
Domingo looked up from her screen.
‘We had one last night.’
THIRTEEN
‘ You had what? ’ Leroy said. ‘You had one of your own? Why didn’t you tell me?’
Domingo cocked her head to one side. ‘Sam,’ she said, ‘you only just told me yourself. I thought ours was a one-off.’
‘Yeah – where’s…what’s your partner’s name?’
‘Connor. Judd Connor. Only been here three weeks. We were both up till one on this case. Told him to take today off. He has a family after all.’
‘Don’t tell Quinn that. The number of times we’ve been working till one and been in at eight the next morning.’
‘ Quinn?’ she asked, looking into space in mock contemplation. ‘Isn’t he the guy you let off for ten days on account of his getting married?’
‘Yeah yeah yeah. What was I supposed to do? In any case, forget about Quinn. Tell me about your body.’
She raised her eyebrows.
‘You know what I mean,’ Leroy grinned.
She picked up her paper cup and drained it. Leaned back in her chair.
‘Black male, aged thirty to thirty-five, wearing only underpants, found by the side of the I-5 at Griffith Park last night.’
‘Black, you say?’
‘U-huh. Why? Is that important?’
Leroy shrugged. ‘Probably not. The other two were white. Sorry. Carry on.’
‘We figured he’d fallen or rolled down the hillside from Crystal Springs Drive. Or Griffith Park Drive. Both highways run about a hundred feet above.’
‘Sure. I know where you
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