Decker said, “Unless he was lying left side down, and shot through the floor, there has to be some amount of splatter from the entrance wound.”
“So we’re figuring maybe this wasn’t the kill spot.”
“So where was the kill spot?”
“Not in this room.”
Decker said, “But that would mean taking a body up the stairs… what? Ten flights?”
“There’s an elevator. They could have stuffed him in a duffel.”
“We rode up that elevator. It took about twenty minutes. Not to mention that it would have been one heck of a big duffel.”
“It’s been done before,” Novack said.
“Let’s suppose… for a moment… that the guy got here on his own two feet.”
“You mean he took the girl up here?”
Decker thought about that. “You find any evidence that the girl was up here?”
“Nothing. No sperm-stained sheets, no dress, no purse, nothing to suggest any kind of sexual activity whatsoever.”
“Okay, for the moment, let’s assume that the girl wasn’t up here.” Decker raised his eyebrows. “We’ll worry about her later. Anyway, Ephraim was kidnapped and taken up here-maybe in a duffel, maybe by his own two feet… somehow he got up here.”
“That we know. What we don’t know is if he was dead or alive.”
“Assume that he was alive when they took him up here.”
Novack laughed. “You’re from L.A. Write the script, and I’ll play along.”
Decker smiled. “Suppose somebody brought Ephraim here on his own two feet.”
“Probably more than one person,” Novack said.
Decker nodded. “Yeah, probably to get him upstairs without his breaking away, there had to be two people-dragging him upstairs with a gun pointed at his head. Maybe they duct-taped his mouth.”
“Not when we found him.”
“Ask the coroner to check for glue around his mouth.”
Novack nodded, but he didn’t write it down.
Decker went on. “They lead him to this room… pull the shades-”
“By the way, I had some people canvass the next building over for witnesses.”
“The one out the window?”
“Yeah, that one. Nothing.”
“Okay, okay.” Decker’s brain was reeling. “They pull the shades and pop him somewhere up here that’s not going to leave any splatter.” He looked at Novack. “Was his hair wet?”
“Not when I got here,” Novack said. “But I will say this. His hair was short… almost shaved to the scalp. It woulda dried in a few minutes. You can see that in the postmortem pics.”
Decker looked at the photos. Ephraim had had a very close-cropped haircut. “How about his clothes? You don’t have his clothes?”
“No, we found him buck naked. What are you thinking?”
“The toilet,” Decker said. “They dragged him into the bathroom, dunked him into the bowl, and popped him. The water washed away most of the blood. It also probably muffled the sound.”
“Makes one hell of a splash.”
“Was the floor wet?”
Novack checked his notes. He shook his head. “No… I didn’t mention it. I think someone woulda noticed pink water on the floor.”
“Towels in the bathroom?”
Again Novack checked his notes. “No. It’s a crummy hotel.”
“It still might provide towels in the bathroom. Someone should ask.”
Novack was quiet. Then he said, “We should check underneath the toilet-bowl rim for splatter.”
“Yeah. If you don’t find anything, you might want to Luminall it. Also, tell Forensics to check the vic’s lungs. He may have taken some water into his lungs before he died.”
Novack scratched his neck and cleared his throat. “That can be arranged.”
“Do you mind if I look around?”
“Not too long.”
“Ten minutes?”
“Knock yourself out.” But after five minutes, Novack seemed annoyed. “What are you looking for, Decker?”
“Just trying to figure out… how he got here.”
“The room was registered to John Smith,” Novack said. “Paid for in cash. The receipts had already been taken to the bank and deposited, so we couldn’t pull prints off the bills even if we knew what we were looking for.”
Decker gave the place a final scan. “And you found nothing at the scene?”
“Only thing we found of any significance was a single pill.”
“A pill?”
“Yeah, like an aspirin pill. But it wasn’t aspirin. No imprint on it. Even generic drugs are imprinted.”
“Ecstasy?”
“Yeah, of course. But even those pills are usually imprinted with something-a ’toon or a heart. The guy had a drug problem; the pill may have come from his pocket. We sent it to Forensics. It’s being tested. If it’s a known drug like ecstasy, results shouldn’t take long.”
“My brother said he used coke,” Decker remarked. “Do they make cocaine in tablets these days?”
Novack shrugged. “I’m not an expert in these things. We don’t even got Vice in our hub, let alone Narc.”
Decker held up the photos. “Can I keep these over the weekend or are these your only copies?”
“Those are copies. Originals are in my file back at the two-eight.”
“So I can keep these?”
“What do you want them for?”
“I just want to… stare at them. See if something jumps out at me. I’ll give them back before I leave.”
Novack ran his tongue over his teeth. “I suppose you look honorable enough. Sure, take them.”
“Thanks, Novack.” Decker pocketed the photos.
Rather than take a chance with the moribund elevator, they elected to walk down the ten flights of steps. The stairwells were dark, lit by a bare bulb on each floor, and rank with odors and bacteria. Decker was happy his hands were gloved. He wished his lungs had equal protection. As they stepped outside onto the sidewalk, a heavy gust of wind nearly knocked them over. Immediately, Decker’s ears were assaulted by the honking of horns and traffic. He took off his latex gloves. “You know, I can catch a cab to my brother’s shul.”
“I can drop you off-”
“Nah, it’s out of the way.”
“It’s no problem for me to take you, Lieutenant.”
“Thanks, Detective, but I’ll be fine.” Decker paused. “So you’re going to check out those twelve-step chapters-”
“Yeah, Decker, I had intentions of doing that.”
Novack was irked. Decker said, “I’m a pain in the ass, and an older one at that. That means I’m not only obsessive, but I keep asking the same questions because I’m forgetful. Be happy you’re not my wife.”
Novack smiled. “I’ll check out the chapters.”
“What about dealers? Where would a religious guy like Ephraim buy his blow?”
“Probably from the same pushers that sell to the regular crowd. Way too many dealers out there for me to narrow down.”
“Any known dealer that specifically caters to the Orthodox crowd?”
Novack thought a moment. “Okay, Decker, this is what I’m gonna do for you. I’m gonna ask Vice. I’ll translate the New York part, and you can help me out with the family part and all their religious stuff.”
“I’ll do the best I can,” Decker said. “But I’ll tell you this much. I’m not that kind of religious. Furthermore, the Chasids up in Quinton are probably biased against me because I didn’t start out religious.”
“Aha!” Novack’s eyes narrowed. “What brought about the transformation?”
“My wife.”
A smile. “Was it worth it?”
“Absolutely.”
Novack laughed. “I thought of something. It’s gross.”
“I’m not sensitive,” Decker said.
“You gave up ham to get to the pork.”
“Yeah, that’s gross,” Decker said. “Can you call me on my cell Motzei Shabbos-Saturday evening.”
“You got it.” Novack shook his hand. “Shabbat shalom.”
“Shabbat shalom,” Decker answered.
Only in New York.
7
The ride back to Quinton was a killer. Traffic out of the city was a parking lot of red taillights, wind blowing dirt and debris onto the cars and roadways. Stoically, lifelessly, Jonathan sat at the helm, eyes fixed ahead-an inert driving machine. Decker hadn’t meant to, but he found his eyes closing. When he opened them next, the van was pulling off the highway. His mouth tasted like sawdust, his stomach long past hungry. He just felt empty.