Frank. He coughed. ‘Medicinal.’
Emmet poured a drink for Milt and indicated for him to sit down. ‘What’s up?’
Milt parked himself against the filing cabinets. He lit a cigarette. ‘I’m not sure. I’m going to tell you some things and it’s up to you what to do with them.’
‘Go ahead,’ said Frank.
‘Okay. Robinson Taylor wasn’t killed where you found him. He wasn’t killed far away, what with the blood and everything at the secondary scene, but he wasn’t killed there. We have more work to do, but I thought you should know.’
‘So he was driven there and dumped?’ asked Frank.
‘Yeah. Seems like it. Time of death was around seven a.m. He was found, or noticed at least, at about eight fifteen. Uniforms were on the scene by eight twenty-five. They covered him up with a blanket.’ He turned to Emmet. ‘I understand why, what with the crowd and all, but it contaminates the scene; fibres, stray hairs et cetera. See if you can get some sort of plastic covers to your men, would you, Em?’
‘Sure.’
‘If he was killed elsewhere and about an hour before he was found,’ said Steve, ‘how come there was so much blood on the scene? That blanket was like a washcloth.’
‘He was on anti-coagulants. His family doctor says he threw off some clots about a year ago. Not uncommon in people with his habits. Plus, there was one other thing,’ said Milt.
‘Okay,’ said Emmet. ‘What?’
‘His balls were missing.’
Emmet winced. ‘His balls?’
Steve groaned. ‘Jesus!’
‘Yeah,’ said Milt. ‘I can understand it wasn’t noticed at the scene. There was a lot of blood, plus his pants had been pulled back up. It wasn’t until we got him on the table that we noticed.’
‘How can a man pull up in a vehicle, drag a body from inside it and dump it on the sidewalk without somebody at least raising an eyebrow?’ asked Frank with irritation.
‘I don’t know,’ said Milt. ‘The streets are yours, the lab is mine. There is however a vehicle somewhere with seats that are now black with dry blood and a meeting place for the local Brotherhood of Flies.’
Frank sighed. The weeks seemed to be getting longer, the nights shorter. The days sloughed from the calendar like the skin of a slowly shedding snake. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah. The Dybek woman; she was dead when she hit the floor so, in theory, the first floor of her apartment building was also a secondary scene.’
‘So she was killed in her apartment?’ asked Steve.
‘Yep.’
‘How?’
‘She was suffocated. You wouldn’t have seen it among the mess yesterday.’
‘How?’
‘There were some fibres in her mouth, airway and lungs that match a bath towel at the apartment. She may have put up a brief struggle. There’s some bruising around the nose that suggests it was pinched closed. The more she struggled, the tighter the pinch. Could be he covered her mouth with the towel at the same time. Could be he held it over her face ‘til she stopped fighting. He had to be quite strong. Don’t be deceived by a little old lady. They can still put up a fight. Must’ve made him sweat a little though.’
‘What about the plate?’ asked Frank.
‘Clean as a whistle. The sink was also clean.’
‘Which means that we can only surmise.’ Frank puffed his cheeks out and helped himself to more whisky. He poured some for Steve, who took it gratefully. He caught Emmet staring at the bottle. ‘I’ll buy you some more, Em. Stop being such an old hen.’ He turned his attention back to the ME. ‘Nothing on the glass of milk either?’ Milt shook his head. ‘So the guy was either known to her or trusted by her for some reason and she gave him food and drink. Or he sat staring at her body while he had himself a snack and a refreshing glass of milk. That’s pretty stone cold.’
‘What about the guy in the furnace?’ asked Emmet.
‘Early days yet, Em. There was one thing however.’
‘Yeah?’ said Frank. ‘Only
Emmet poured a drink for Milt and indicated for him to sit down. ‘What’s up?’
Milt parked himself against the filing cabinets. He lit a cigarette. ‘I’m not sure. I’m going to tell you some things and it’s up to you what to do with them.’
‘Go ahead,’ said Frank.
‘Okay. Robinson Taylor wasn’t killed where you found him. He wasn’t killed far away, what with the blood and everything at the secondary scene, but he wasn’t killed there. We have more work to do, but I thought you should know.’
‘So he was driven there and dumped?’ asked Frank.
‘Yeah. Seems like it. Time of death was around seven a.m. He was found, or noticed at least, at about eight fifteen. Uniforms were on the scene by eight twenty-five. They covered him up with a blanket.’ He turned to Emmet. ‘I understand why, what with the crowd and all, but it contaminates the scene; fibres, stray hairs et cetera. See if you can get some sort of plastic covers to your men, would you, Em?’
‘Sure.’
‘If he was killed elsewhere and about an hour before he was found,’ said Steve, ‘how come there was so much blood on the scene? That blanket was like a washcloth.’
‘He was on anti-coagulants. His family doctor says he threw off some clots about a year ago. Not uncommon in people with his habits. Plus, there was one other thing,’ said Milt.
‘Okay,’ said Emmet. ‘What?’
‘His balls were missing.’
Emmet winced. ‘His balls?’
Steve groaned. ‘Jesus!’
‘Yeah,’ said Milt. ‘I can understand it wasn’t noticed at the scene. There was a lot of blood, plus his pants had been pulled back up. It wasn’t until we got him on the table that we noticed.’
‘How can a man pull up in a vehicle, drag a body from inside it and dump it on the sidewalk without somebody at least raising an eyebrow?’ asked Frank with irritation.
‘I don’t know,’ said Milt. ‘The streets are yours, the lab is mine. There is however a vehicle somewhere with seats that are now black with dry blood and a meeting place for the local Brotherhood of Flies.’
Frank sighed. The weeks seemed to be getting longer, the nights shorter. The days sloughed from the calendar like the skin of a slowly shedding snake. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah. The Dybek woman; she was dead when she hit the floor so, in theory, the first floor of her apartment building was also a secondary scene.’
‘So she was killed in her apartment?’ asked Steve.
‘Yep.’
‘How?’
‘She was suffocated. You wouldn’t have seen it among the mess yesterday.’
‘How?’
‘There were some fibres in her mouth, airway and lungs that match a bath towel at the apartment. She may have put up a brief struggle. There’s some bruising around the nose that suggests it was pinched closed. The more she struggled, the tighter the pinch. Could be he covered her mouth with the towel at the same time. Could be he held it over her face ‘til she stopped fighting. He had to be quite strong. Don’t be deceived by a little old lady. They can still put up a fight. Must’ve made him sweat a little though.’
‘What about the plate?’ asked Frank.
‘Clean as a whistle. The sink was also clean.’
‘Which means that we can only surmise.’ Frank puffed his cheeks out and helped himself to more whisky. He poured some for Steve, who took it gratefully. He caught Emmet staring at the bottle. ‘I’ll buy you some more, Em. Stop being such an old hen.’ He turned his attention back to the ME. ‘Nothing on the glass of milk either?’ Milt shook his head. ‘So the guy was either known to her or trusted by her for some reason and she gave him food and drink. Or he sat staring at her body while he had himself a snack and a refreshing glass of milk. That’s pretty stone cold.’
‘What about the guy in the furnace?’ asked Emmet.
‘Early days yet, Em. There was one thing however.’
‘Yeah?’ said Frank. ‘Only
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