The Filthy Few: A Steve Nastos Mystery by Richard Cain Page A

laughing. “Right, the girl. They all asked about her also. I’ll tell you what I told them. The woman raced back shortly after they had left that night. She was frantic. I thought maybe they had just forgotten something, then I never saw them again.”
    â€œWere they paid up?”
    â€œThey lived together. They had paid for another week in advance.”
    Carscadden asked, “Her name?”
    â€œAnn Falconer. I only remember because everyone asks about her.”
    Nastos wondered if at this point Sandhu was just exaggerating. “Everyone?”
    â€œWell, a lot of men. Like all of the other women here, she was a whore. But she was white, and the prettiest one of the filthy things.”
    Nastos asked, “Would you know where to find her?”
    â€œI’d try on the internet, the prostitution sites.”
    Nastos asked, “Can you describe the men who came looking for her?”
    â€œNot really. They were white, like you two. If you want to look around the room you can.”
    â€œDo you have video here?”
    His only answer was another soft chuckle.
    With the key, Nastos and Carscadden unlocked the door to room 103 and entered. It didn’t smell as bad as Nastos anticipated. Carscadden spread out the two empty pizza boxes on the dresser as well as the candy wrappers scattered there. He mumbled to himself a Seinfeld quote, “A penchant for empty calories.”
    The bed was left unmade, the sheets wrinkled and a paisley duvet lying in heap on the floor. The window had been left open, which helped with the smell. It wasn’t like anyone had
recently
died in there. As Nastos stepped around the duvet he pointed to the blanket and said to Carscadden, “Watch out for the DNA toilet.” He crossed the room to the waste can near the bathroom door and found what he was hoping for. “We just struck solid gold.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” Carscadden was going through the dresser, examining the contents with his hands on his hips.
    â€œNot really. But I found a pop can.” Nastos placed the tool box on the floor and unclipped the top. He removed the top tray and set it aside then pulled out a pen. He stuck the pen into the aluminum can and carefully lifted it out of the garbage and onto the bedside table. The partially crushed can teetered in place, balancing precariously. Nastos put on a pair of blue rubber gloves, turned on the bedside light and began dusting for prints. He opened a clear plastic tube and removed the brush. He twisted it in the tube of filings then began lightly twisting it over the can, carefully looking to see if they accumulated anywhere.
    Carscadden stepped over the duvet and joined him, watching over his shoulder. “Anything?”
    â€œNot yet. Check the bathroom, the mirror and garbage. Take a little flashlight and shine it offset so —”
    â€œYeah, I know, I know.” Carscadden grabbed the flashlight and began his search. He barely looked in before coming back out. “Nothing.”
    â€œYeah,” Nastos said. “Nothing here either.”
    â€œWhat’s your best guess for who this guy was to have so many people looking for him?”
    â€œNo idea. To be honest I think that at face value, this makes no sense. And when that happens it means that there is no logic to it.”
    Carscadden tried to open the closet door but it was stuck. He adjusted his grip and pulled harder. Glancing down he saw that the carpet wasn’t smooth and it bunched up under the door. He shoved the door shut and pulled it open again, this time pressing the bulge down with his foot. “So you think Karen is holding something back? I thought she was your old partner?”
    Nastos grunted. “We had a complicated relationship. She wished we could have been more than partners.” He tried to force himself to finish his thought. “Now that Maddy is gone, I just wonder what her game really is.”
    Carscadden yanked the