at approximately 4:05. Says the door was ajar. That’s what alerted him something was wrong. He didn’t notice it had been forced open until after he called us."
"You got anything on him?"
"Not yet. I have a call in." McCormack reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "I knew you’d want to talk to the other tenants, so I took their names and apartment numbers." He handed Mitch the slip of paper. "They’re all accounted for, except the woman in apartment 8A. The super says she’s a flight attendant, so she’s probably on a trip."
"Thanks." Mitch scanned the list before putting it in his pocket. "What about the victim?"
"D.C. driver’s license identifies her as Gina Lamont. Age thirty-four. The super says she’s a model, but according to our records, the lady’s a hooker. She was arrested three times this year alone. Twice for solicitation and once for drug possession. Cocaine." he added in answer to Mitch’s quick, questioning glance. "Looks like
she was a serious user, too. Johnson’s already found a stash."
"Did you find an address book?"
McCormack pointed to a small black book on the end table. "Not too many names in it, though."
"Thanks, Joe. I’ll take a look at it later. Let me know if anything else comes up."
Mitch pulled out his own notebook from his breast pocket and walked over to Danny Branson. He was just a kid, no more than twenty-four or twenty-five with blond hair, blue eyes and pale, freckled cheeks.
"Hi," Mitch said in a low, unthreatening voice. "I’m Detective Calhoon."
The man, who had watched him approach, stood up. His eyes registered a mixture of bewilderment and fear. He nodded and threw a nervous glance toward the bed where the medical examiner was conducting a preliminary examination.
Mitch motioned toward the hallway. "Let’s go in the living room." Once there he turned back to Danny. "I understand you found the body?"
"Yes, sir." In a voice that shook, Bronson told Mitch how he had discovered the body.
"Did you know the woman?"
"Yes. But not well. I mean, I only saw her once a year-around Christmas."
"Why is that?"
"She always asked me to stop by so she could give me my Christmas present."
"What kind of present?"
Danny blushed. "Fifty dollars. In cash."
Mitch held back a smile as he wrote down the information in his neat handwriting. "That’s all right, son. I’m
not the IRS." When he stopped writing, he looked up. "Did you ever see anyone here? Man? Woman?"
Danny shook his head. "No, sir. She was always alone."
Mitch nodded. "How come you deliver the paper so early?"
"I have another job. I’m a full-time production employee at Chesapeake Frozen Foods. In order to punch in at six, I have to start my paper route at four."
"When do you finish?"
"Five- thirty."
"Did you touch anything besides the telephone?"
"The light switch." Danny pointed behind Mitch. "That one. And the one in the bedroom. Oh, and I touched the door when I pushed it open."
"Did you see anyone coming out of the building when you entered it?"
Danny shook his head.
"Did you hear any noise from the floor below? Or the one above?"
"No. It’s pretty quiet at this time of the morning."
Mitch closed his notebook. "All right, Mr. Bronson. One of the officers is going to escort you downtown-"
The man’s eyes grew fearful. "What for? I told you all I know." His face turned white. "Jesus, you can’t think I killed her." He shook his head. "I didn’t. I swear-"
"Take it easy, Danny," Mitch said, hoping the use of the kid’s first name would calm him down. "I don’t think you killed her. But you discovered the body, which means we need a signed statement from you. After you’ve given it, you’ll be free to go."
Mitch motioned to the patrolman at the door and gave him his instructions, then, as he returned to the bedroom,
"You got anything on him?"
"Not yet. I have a call in." McCormack reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "I knew you’d want to talk to the other tenants, so I took their names and apartment numbers." He handed Mitch the slip of paper. "They’re all accounted for, except the woman in apartment 8A. The super says she’s a flight attendant, so she’s probably on a trip."
"Thanks." Mitch scanned the list before putting it in his pocket. "What about the victim?"
"D.C. driver’s license identifies her as Gina Lamont. Age thirty-four. The super says she’s a model, but according to our records, the lady’s a hooker. She was arrested three times this year alone. Twice for solicitation and once for drug possession. Cocaine." he added in answer to Mitch’s quick, questioning glance. "Looks like
she was a serious user, too. Johnson’s already found a stash."
"Did you find an address book?"
McCormack pointed to a small black book on the end table. "Not too many names in it, though."
"Thanks, Joe. I’ll take a look at it later. Let me know if anything else comes up."
Mitch pulled out his own notebook from his breast pocket and walked over to Danny Branson. He was just a kid, no more than twenty-four or twenty-five with blond hair, blue eyes and pale, freckled cheeks.
"Hi," Mitch said in a low, unthreatening voice. "I’m Detective Calhoon."
The man, who had watched him approach, stood up. His eyes registered a mixture of bewilderment and fear. He nodded and threw a nervous glance toward the bed where the medical examiner was conducting a preliminary examination.
Mitch motioned toward the hallway. "Let’s go in the living room." Once there he turned back to Danny. "I understand you found the body?"
"Yes, sir." In a voice that shook, Bronson told Mitch how he had discovered the body.
"Did you know the woman?"
"Yes. But not well. I mean, I only saw her once a year-around Christmas."
"Why is that?"
"She always asked me to stop by so she could give me my Christmas present."
"What kind of present?"
Danny blushed. "Fifty dollars. In cash."
Mitch held back a smile as he wrote down the information in his neat handwriting. "That’s all right, son. I’m
not the IRS." When he stopped writing, he looked up. "Did you ever see anyone here? Man? Woman?"
Danny shook his head. "No, sir. She was always alone."
Mitch nodded. "How come you deliver the paper so early?"
"I have another job. I’m a full-time production employee at Chesapeake Frozen Foods. In order to punch in at six, I have to start my paper route at four."
"When do you finish?"
"Five- thirty."
"Did you touch anything besides the telephone?"
"The light switch." Danny pointed behind Mitch. "That one. And the one in the bedroom. Oh, and I touched the door when I pushed it open."
"Did you see anyone coming out of the building when you entered it?"
Danny shook his head.
"Did you hear any noise from the floor below? Or the one above?"
"No. It’s pretty quiet at this time of the morning."
Mitch closed his notebook. "All right, Mr. Bronson. One of the officers is going to escort you downtown-"
The man’s eyes grew fearful. "What for? I told you all I know." His face turned white. "Jesus, you can’t think I killed her." He shook his head. "I didn’t. I swear-"
"Take it easy, Danny," Mitch said, hoping the use of the kid’s first name would calm him down. "I don’t think you killed her. But you discovered the body, which means we need a signed statement from you. After you’ve given it, you’ll be free to go."
Mitch motioned to the patrolman at the door and gave him his instructions, then, as he returned to the bedroom,
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