“You said you had the finger processed?”
“The one that got mailed?”
“Yeah, with the correct postage.”
“Hunh? Yeah we sent it in, ain’t come back yet. Like I said, matter of priorities. With the budget cuts and all…”
When I could get a word in edgewise I thanked him for his time. I got the same sort of response in Kansas City, it wasn’t a priority and with budget cuts…
The guy in St. Louis spoke with a lisp, a Detective Sexton. He had the same story as the others, no results, he’d call me when the reports came back, but don’t wait by the phone.
“Look, I’ll give you a call when they come in, but you’re probably looking at months not weeks, budget cuts and all that shit.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to be fighting.”
“God, it’s getting worse than dealing with the bad guys. So you work with some guy named Manning up there?”
“Yeah,” I said, immediately getting cautious, sensing I was being pushed out onto thin ice.
“That guy as big a jerk as he sounds like on the phone?”
“No, bigger.”
“Figures, some things never change. Look, got a few hundred irons in the fire just a little hotter than this. I run into anything I’ll let you know, okay.”
“Appreciate your time.”
An afternoon wasted.
Chapter Fifteen
I was sitting in The Spot when my phone rang. I had stopped in to check for messages and nurse a Leinenkugel before I went home.
“Haskell Investigations.”
I had to step out the side door to hear as I answered my cell, the juke box was blaring Bob Seger singing about Old Time Rock and Roll.
“Detective Dev Haskell?” the voice asked, not sounding too sure.
“That’s me,” trying not to sound too cautious.
“King Quinn, Denver. We spoke earlier. This your office phone?”
“No, my cell, I’m out at a crime scene right now.”
“Crime scene,” he said, not sounding too convinced.
“Did you find anything for me?”
“No, meaning yes. Nothing turned up in a DNA match, either someone’s not in the CODIS data base or, well that’s just it, they’re not in the data base.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning whoever is missing that finger, they most likely aren’t or weren’t a sex offender or convicted of a violent felony in the past umpteen years.”
“Back to square one.”
“Yeah, I can tell you this much, finger was from a Caucasian male. Aged between twenty-five and forty, and one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“It was frozen, the finger.”
“Frozen?”
“Yeah, not when we recovered it, but it had been frozen.”
“What sense does that make? Why?”
“Maybe this guy has a stash of them, on ice. When he needs one he grabs it out of the freezer and mails it off.”
“Or tapes it to the door of a bus,” I added.
“That too,” he said.
“Of course, that still suggests someone who has access to them, the fingers.”
“Maybe a hospital worker, morgue, undertaker, someone along those lines.”
“Yeah, maybe. Detective, thanks for the effort and the call back. You come across anything else please let me know.”
“Sure thing, Detective.” He said the last word like he wasn’t quite sure but played the party line just in case. “Give my best to all those English girls.”
“I will.”
“And Detective Manning.”
“I will.”
“Just kidding, don’t,” he said and hung up.
Actually, the smart thing to do would be to call Manning in homicide, give him the information I’d just received and let him follow it up. Instead, I called the guy in St. Louis with a lisp, Sexton. He didn’t speak too kindly about Manning and I hoped to maybe use that to my advantage. I left a message.
Next I phoned Jimmy McNaughton, just to touch base. I treaded carefully, he may be in touch with Manning, though I doubted it.
“What can I do for you?” Jimmy asked, he sounded preoccupied.
“Just keeping you up to date. So far none of those fingers match up to anyone in our data bases here.”
“Your contact with the police tell you this?”
“Manning? No, actually he’s got a lot on his plate right now. I went ahead and contacted the other departments, Denver, St. Louis, Chicago and Kansas City. Wanted to see what I could learn from them.”
“And what’d you learn?”
“Just what I said, they can’t get a match to anyone here. I thought if we could find where the fingers came from it would help in finding out who sent them.” I purposely didn’t tell Jimmy about the finger in Denver having been frozen.
“Felicity was released this noon from your Regions Hospital,” Jimmy said.
“Oh, I hope she’s okay.”
“Probably best for both of us not to comment at this stage. I did get a visit from three of the girls.”
“A visit?”
“Seems they wanted to withdraw their statements.”
“The statements about what happened between Emma and me, that bullshit about groping and attacking her. Fantastic, they came to their senses and said nothing like that happened, that it?”
“Not exactly, they said they were too far away and maybe just joined up in the heat of the moment. Thought better of it and as much as they’d like to see you brought to justice, upon further reflection they didn’t see enough to sign a statement.”
“It’s a start, I’ll take it. Listen Jimmy, I’m going to check back with the other departments I spoke with today. I hear anything else, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”
I went back inside, finished my beer and went home.
Chapter Sixteen
I was on my laptop, supposedly doing a search on frozen fingers and anything that might point to a copycat situation. In actuality I was drinking beer and watching a porn video titled No Boys Allowed, hoping to learn something about women’s sports teams. Thus far I’d learned a lot, none of which could be applied to women sport teams in general or the Hastings Hustlers specifically. The cell phone broke my concentration.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“Hello Dev, Justine.”
I deleted the sound to hide the nonstop moaning and tore myself away from the computer screen.
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”
“Justine, hi, hello, thanks for calling. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, a lot better than yesterday. I just got off the line with our manager, she got a call from the Hustlers, and Emma Babe, her name’s actually Felicity Bard, anyway, she’s been released from the hospital.”
This wasn’t news to me.
“Well good, I hope she’s doing well,” I said, trying to sound sincere all the while visualizing me tripping the little bitch and pushing her down the front steps of the Saint Paul Cathedral.
“Oh yeah, I guess she’ll be fine. But, the reason I called is some of the girls over there have changed their story.”
“Changed their story?”
“Yeah, you know swearing to things they said they saw you do.”
“Things they saw me do, like assault Emma Babe and grab her by her boobs, that sort of thing?”
“Well yeah.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Any help I can get in not becoming public enemy number one is always appreciated.”
“I guess fourteen of the girls have said they really didn’t see anything.”
“Fourteen, that’s great. Didn’t see anything? You mean they weren’t watching or that it didn’t happen the way your pal Emma said it did?”
“They said they were too far away, but at least they’ve withdrawn their statements, that’s the important thing. And, she’s not my pal.”
“There were seventeen signed statements, so just Emma and two others still have statements out there. Right?”
“Yeah, I’m guessing she’ll stick to what she said, but it has to be encouraging.”
“It’s very encouraging, now if we could just get things back on track and find out who is stalking Harlotte Davidson.”