Nerds Who Kill: A Paul Turner Mystery by Mark Richard Zubro Page A

full volume.
    Turner reentered the room. “I could hear plenty.”
    Fenwick said, “Maybe the guy didn’t yell. Maybe he was too busy fighting for his life.”
    “What about the people above and below?” Turner asked.
    Sanchez reported that no one on this floor or the ones above or below had heard anything. Silence had reigned until the body discoverer had let loose.
    With his plastic gloves on, Turner picked up the man’s wallet by one corner and opened it carefully. He examined the driver’s license. Foublin was from Minnesota. He found a ticket for the hotel parking garage. He showed it to Fenwick. Turner said, “He drove. He didn’t have the problem of transporting weapons on planes. He could just stash a heap of them in his car. If he was the one who had the weapon.”
    “Yeah,” Fenwick said. “Was the sword his or the killer’s? Did our killer come to kill him or was it done in a moment of passion?”
    “We’ll have to check the car, if necessary, get the forensics guys to go over it.”
    Fenwick said, “One murderer or two? I’d prefer one. It’s easier on the paperwork.”
    Turner said, “I’m sure whoever did these is doing his or her best to accommodate you. We have no evidence of more than one. Can’t rule it out yet. I still don’t get why the door was open.”
    “The killer fled in a blind panic? He wanted the body discovered quickly because he’s on a tight schedule? How many guesses do I get?”
    Ignoring these feeble attempts at humor, Turner said, “Who died first? Was Foublin killed earlier but found later? Was this another thing the killer was leaving to chance?”
    Fenwick said, “I hate it when you ignore my feeble attempts at humor and start asking questions.”
    “It’s part of my humor management technique. I took a class.”
    “There is no such class.”
    “A twelve-step program?”
    “Only in your dreams.”
    “For those of us who know you, they have both.”
    “I’d be miffed, but that’s a pun waiting to be exploited.”
    “Can we get back to this?”
    Fenwick said, “You’re just jealous. Did I tell you, they’re setting up a government program? They’re going to pay me to not tell jokes. I’m supposed to keep it a secret.”
    “I’d be willing to pay half my salary in taxes to fund such a program. So would anyone who knows you. People would stampede to pay higher taxes. It could become a whole new concept in government.”
    “Paradise without my humor? Pah.”
    Turner said, “Can we get back to this?”
    Fenwick said, “Unless the killings were done quite a while apart, forensics won’t be able to tell us which one happened first.”
    “Makes sense if we’ve got the sword at the Devers’ scene that this one happened first. One killer. One sword. Wiped the blood off.”
    “It works,” Fenwick said. “Now all we have to do is find out if that’s what really happened.”
    Foublin only had the one room. They examined it carefully and worked around the Crime Lab people when they arrived. Foublin had much less in his luggage than Muriam Devers had had in hers. In the bathroom they found a shaving kit with deodorant, a razor blade, a comb, and other normal stuff. In his luggage they found underwear, socks, and the latest Barbara D’Amato novel.
    They met with the Medical Examiner. Fenwick said, “I hope this kind of thing isn’t catching.”
    The ME said, “Murder by unleashing a broadsword virus? There’s a lot of twisted terrorists out there, but my guess is this wouldn’t be the most efficient way to do in a large group of people.”
    Turner said, “From the marks on his throat I thought the convention badge we saw around his neck might have been used to strangle him.”
    The ME said, “Not sure yet. From the amount of blood, I’d say he was alive when he was stabbed. Could have fought while somebody tried to strangle him. Whether or not he was conscious when stabbed is another matter. We’ll have to check.”
    Fenwick said, “Maybe he