7
Peabody opened the door.
“You were fast,” she said. “I just got here. Hey, Roarke.” She stepped back to let them in. “Officer Rineheart’s first on scene. Nine-one-one caller’s across the hall with his partner. She states she was leaving to go to work, saw the door open, looked in.”
Peabody gestured to where Ledo lay on a thin mattress stained with blood and assorted bodily fluids Eve didn’t much want to think about.
He was fully dressed – faded Knicks sweatshirt, black cargo pants, thick socks – once white, she assumed, and now the color of puss – with ragged holes so both big toes poked through.
A dark trench coat and a couple of frayed and tattered blankets lay crumpled beside him, and the butt end of a pool cue speared out of his chest.
Scrawny build, hair like dirty straw, eyes that showed the pink rims of the funky-junkie.
“That’s Ledo.” Eve turned to the uniform. “Let’s have it.”
“Responded to nine-one-one logged at oh-six-sixteen. My partner and I arrived at oh-six-twenty. Building unsecured, apartment door open, DB as you see it. I visually ID’d Ledo.”
The cop, grizzled hair under his cap, glanced toward the body.
“I’ve worked this area for the last four years, so I know him. Caller’s Misty Polinsky, lives across the hall. She’s young, Lieutenant, and pretty shaken up. Once we got her settled down, I called in some droids. We leave the cruiser out there unattended, there won’t be much left of it when we get out again.”
“Okay. Start a canvass, for what it’s worth. You want backup for that?”
“Most people know me. Won’t be a problem. A couple of sidewalk sleepers were inside, down on the entrance level. Sleeping. We had to shake ’em pretty good to wake them up. We got names, had them transported to a shelter. They didn’t see anything. I know ’em,” he added. “They’re regulars around here, so it’s easy to pick them up you want to talk to them, but they were both out cold.”
She nodded, then taking her field kit from Roarke, sealed up before she moved toward the body.
Routine, she told herself. Procedure. And took out her tools.
“Vic’s ID confirmed as Ledo, Wendall, of this address. TOD…” She checked her gauge. “Oh-six-three. Wit just missed the killer.”
“I’ve got the rest of the pool cue here, Dallas,” Peabody told her. “Top half.”
“Guess he bought a new one,” Eve murmured. “Pool was his game. I busted the other, about like this, and when he grabbed for it, he clocked me in the face with the butt end.”
“Dallas,” Peabody began, but Eve shook her head.
“That’s what the killer had to know, had to think. He tried lying to me – that’s why his tongue’s sitting in this go-cup.”
“Didn’t see that. I’ll bag it.”
“Cold in here. Windows are crap so it’s cold in here. He comes in, probably from Gametown, tosses his coat, his shoes, but flops down in his clothes, pulls on those crap blankets. Tox screen will be interesting.” She peeled one of his reddened eyelids up. “Couldn’t lay off the funk, couldn’t resist his own products. He’ll have some stashed around here, and you can bet the pockets of that coat hold more. Check that out, Peabody.”
“Ick,” was Peabody’s opinion, but she crouched down to go through the stained coat on the floor.
“Easy enough to case a dump like this, to get a line on Ledo’s routine. He’d sleep most days – his business is night business, plus the sun hurts his eyes. Funk does that. And in weather like this, he’d go underground, maybe hit one of the grease joints for some food first, but he’d do most of his business under. Get high, stay high, shoot some pool, and if he still had some skills, make enough to buy some brew, maybe more to eat – maybe enough to pay for a quick bang or a bj. Come home before the sun comes up, pass out, then do it all again.”
“Various suspicious substances,” Peabody announced. “In small, clear bags, two key bars, one-sixty-three in cash, no credits, no plastic, a pocket ’link, a small, opened bag of cheese-and-onion soy chips.”
Eve sat back on her heels. “Fucked-up life, but it was his.”
“The locks were tampered with recently,” Roarke told her. “What there is of them.”
She nodded. “Knows he’ll have flopped sometime before dawn. Hell, if he’s not here, just wait until he stumbled home. But odds are he’d be here. No security on this building, just walk in. Bet you had your cover, though. Your delivery uniform, your box of tricks. Just step over the sleepers and come right up. Pick the locks – crap locks, but you didn’t just break them, so that’s another skill in your pocket.”
She walked through it in her head, walked through it with the killer.
“He’s passed out. Had to be dark – filthy windows, not much light coming through that early, even from the streetlights, not through those windows. Brought your own light.”
Carefully, she lifted the bloodstained sweatshirt, examined his torso. “Brought your stunner, too. Passed-out junkie, and still you use a stunner. Cowardice or compassion? Have to think about that. Either way, he didn’t feel a thing.”
She got to her feet. “Pool cue’s right there. He kept it close, like a fricking teddy bear. Bust it – that’s symbolic. Give him one good smack with it – same side of the face as he got me. That’s symbolic, too, otherwise, why not beat him to death with the cue? Just wail away.”
“Too violent,” Peabody suggested.
“Yeah. Too violent, too passionate, and too messy. Beating somebody to death just isn’t efficient. One hit – payback – then stab the broken end into his chest. That takes some muscle.” She shifted her body, held her hands just above the butt of the cue.
“Set it on him? Press down, use your weight, push. That’s probably it. Popped it right through him. Take care of the tongue – lying tongue – then write the message.”
TO LIEUTENANT EVE DALLAS, WITH RESPECT AND ADMIRATION.
HE WAS A BLIGHT ON SOCIETY, THE SAME SOCIETY WHO HAMPERS YOU WITH RULES PROTECTING BLIGHTS. SOME RULES RESTRAIN JUSTICE. YOU AND I KNOW THIS.
HE SOLD HIS FILTH TO THOSE WHO IGNORE ALL RULES, LIVE IN FILTH. HE LIED TO YOU, ASSAULTED YOU. WHILE HE FEARED YOU, HE NEVER RESPECTED YOU. AND STILL THOSE RULES ALLOWED HIM TO LIVE HIS WORTHLESS, PARASITIC LIFE.
THIS IS JUSTICE, FOR SOCIETY, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, MOST PERSONALLY, EVE, FOR YOU. THE MARK HE LEFT ON YOUR FACE FADED, AND NOW THE INSULT HAS BEEN REPAID, IN FULL.
I AM YOUR FRIEND. KNOW THAT I’LL ALWAYS STAND BY YOU, ASK FOR NOTHING MORE THAN YOUR FRIENDSHIP. I WILL HELP YOU SERVE JUSTICE, REAL JUSTICE TO THE GUILTY. AS YOU READ THIS, KNOW I’M THINKING OF YOU EVERY HOUR OF EVERY DAY.