“Ah, Charlie,” Marcus said when he caught sight of me, adding dryly, “You already met Commander Peck, I understand.”
“Yes sir,” I said, holding my hand out as I approached. Automatic good manners had Peck reaching to shake it. I gave it a few hearty pumps with a friendly smile on my face, watching him for signs of discomfort. He showed only bemusement at my enthusiastic greeting.
Damn. That’s that theory out the window.
Marcus gestured to the body on the slab. “This is the guy who—”
“Was found outside the jewellery store with the woman,” I finished for him. “Yes, I know.”
He raised an eyebrow.
It was Peck who demanded, “You know this man?”
“Not his identity, no. But I got a good look at him yesterday… when you were searching the bodies after they were brought out,” I said. “It’s not a state of face you forget in a hurry.”
Dr Bertrand glanced at the body with a frown, as if unable to work out what made it memorable. I guessed she’d seen a lot worse in her time.
“That is immaterial,” she said. She indicated the gaping chest cavity with a gore-spattered glove. “What I found ’ere is of greater concern at present. See for yourself.”
The invitation was issued in an off-hand manner with just an underlying hint of smug. She clearly expected me not to spot whatever it was she was indicating. Then I would be compelled to ask and she would have the opportunity to sledgehammer home her superior knowledge.
I moved closer, leaned over the body, remembering to breathe shallowly through my mouth. It didn’t stop the taste of death from settling on my tongue but it was better than the alternative.
Looking down, I saw the rib cage had already been cracked open and the breastplate of sternum and ribs removed in one piece. The heart and other organs still nestled in place but I noticed a blackened torn mass at the bottom edge of the left lung. I peered closer, then glanced up and met Dr Bertrand’s quickly hidden look of surprise.
“Would you mind, doctor?” I asked politely, indicating the lower triangular flap of skin that she had folded back to hide the whole of the abdomen. With disapproval in every line, she lifted it for me to inspect. I saw what I was looking for almost at once, nodded and stepped back.
“He was shot,” I said, drawing blank stares from the three of them. Not for my verdict but the fact I’d been able to reach it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“You can see the front entry wound — here,” I said, keeping my voice cool and level, pointing to the dead man’s chest. “I’d say the round clipped the bottom edge of his lung. Without taking a look at his back I wouldn’t like to guess on it being a through-and-through but it wasn’t a large calibre if I’m any judge — maybe a thirty-eight or a nine mil. The wound was possibly not bad enough to be immediately fatal, but without immediate medical attention I doubt he would have lasted long.”
And he didn’t last long because — looking at his face — the earthquake got him before he had a chance to bleed out or suffocate to death.
For a second nobody moved and then Dr Bertrand gave me a stiff little nod, as if it grieved her to have to do it.
Commander Peck cleared his throat. “We are looking at homicide here and I shall be launching a full investigation.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Joe Marcus said. “If the quake hadn’t hit, he might have survived.”
“With a bullet through his lung?” Peck scoffed.
“Why not?” I asked. “I managed just that a year or so ago. I have the scars to prove it.”
Peck gave me a strange look as if he was pretty sure I was joking but he couldn’t be sure. “Either way, you don’t shoot a man in the chest without intending to kill him, regardless of what actually finishes him off.”
I couldn’t refute the logic of that. “Do we know who he is yet?”
Marcus lifted one shoulder. “Maybe,” he said. “The woman he was found with is a French tourist, Gabrielle Dubois. According to immigration she entered the country last weekend, travelling with a man called Enzo Lefévre, her fiancé.”
“That was quick,” I said.
Marcus ducked his head in Peck’s direction. “The commander remembered her name from looking at her ID,” he said without inflection. “From there it was easy enough to check out her passport record.”
I nodded, turning over this new information. If Peck had originally taken the woman’s wallet to conceal her identity, why give it up voluntarily now? After all, it would have been entirely believable for him to say he didn’t take a good enough look at the ID to recall the details.
“You seemed to think she’d been reported missing. Was that why you were looking for her?” I asked him.
He lifted a casual shoulder. “I thought I recognised her but I was mistaken.” His face was expressionless, giving nothing away. Probably best never to get into a poker game with the police commander.
“So… why drag us off the streets for this?” I asked Marcus, getting the perplexity into my voice without having to work too hard. “Couldn’t it have waited until we got back later anyway?”
His face ticked in irritation. “Because there’s a threat here you need to be aware of, Charlie,” he said. “Somebody shot this guy right before the earthquake hit. We don’t know why, and we haven’t yet recovered a body clutching a gun. Plus there were no survivors other than the store owner on that street, so it looks like our gunman got away.”
“He could well be the man you say broke in here last night,” Peck said. “Although I have inspected all the points of entry and can only assume this man was highly professional, or that he had access.”
It was an echo of my own earlier thoughts, and although he left that one dangling nobody wanted to make a grab for it.
“So, why steal their identification?” I asked instead. “What does that achieve?”
“Perhaps the robber was known to them.” Peck made a vague flapping motion with his hand. “Perhaps he fears that if we were able to identify these people we might also make some connection to him?”
Marcus’s stare lasted a second or two longer than it needed to, and spoke volumes as to what he thought of that idea.
“Or perhaps,” I echoed the commander with a straight face, “Mr Rojas might be able to fill in some blanks.”
Peck straightened to show the mild jibe had not passed unnoticed. “I will be questioning Rojas in due course. I trust that you will leave this in my hands.” He gave a stilted bow of his head to Dr Bertrand and Joe Marcus but ignored me completely as he headed for the main door out of the mortuary.
“You know, Charlie,” Marcus said as we watched the commander disappear. “I get the feeling he really doesn’t like you.”
“Oh-dear-what-a-pity-never-mind,” I said cheerfully. “So, when do we go and see Mr Rojas?”
Just for a second Marcus’s severe face cracked into a smile. “Any time you’re ready.”
“I’ll just go and let Hope know what’s happening,” I said. “I’ll meet you by the helo in five.”
But Hope was not in the mess hall as I expected. I jogged across the parade square to the NCOs’ quarters we’d been assigned, aware that if I went more than half a minute past the five I’d promised Marcus, he was likely to take off without me.
That was the reason I forgot my manners and just shoved open the door to Hope’s room already calling her name.
And my voice died in my throat.
Hope was sitting cross-legged on her bed. Her head jerked up when I burst in and her mouth formed a soundless oh. Spread on a shirt in front of her was a pile of stones. Some of them were pebbles, of the type that I’d seen Lemon delivering to her so solemnly when we were out in the field.